us a huge factory, now in English hands, which had
been owned before the war by a German. Under cover of the so-called
"factory" he had built a secret gun emplacement for a large gun, to
train on this same fort and demolish it when the occasion arose. At this
point we saw the first English soldiers that day in motor boats on the
canal, and what a smile of welcome they gave us!

Presently we came to lines of Belgian Motor transport drawn up at the
sides of the road, car after car, waiting patiently to get on. Without
exaggeration this line was a mile in length, and we simply had to crawl
past, as there was barely room for a large ambulance on that narrow and
excessively muddy road. The drivers were all in excellent spirits, and
nodded and smiled as we passed--occasionally there was an officer's car
sandwiched in between, and those within gravely saluted.

About this time a very cheery Belgian artillery-man who was exchanging
to another regiment, came on board and kept us highly amused. Souvenirs
were the aim and end of existence just then, and he promised us shell
heads galore when he came down the line. On leaving the car, as a token
of his extreme gratitude, he pressed his artillery cap into our hands
saying he would have no further need of it in his new regiment, and
would we accept it as a souvenir!

The roads in Belgium need some explaining for those who have not had the
opportunity to see them. Firstly there is the _pave_, and a very popular
picture with us after that day was one which came out in the _Sketch_ of
a Tommy in a lorry asking a haughty French dragoon to "Alley off the
bloomin' pavee--vite." Well, this famous _pave_ consists of cobbles
about six inches square, and these extend across the road to about the
width of a large cart--On either side there is mud--with a capital M,
such as one doesn't often see--thick and clayey and of a peculiarly
gluey substance, and in some places quite a foot deep. You can imagine
the feeling at the back of your spine as you are squeezing past another
car. If you aren't extremely careful plop go the side wheels off the
"bloomin' pavee" into the mud beyond and it takes half the Belgian Army
to help to heave you on to the "straight and narrow" path once more.

It was just about this time we heard our first really heavy firing and
it gave us a queer thrill to hear the constant boom-boom of the guns
like a continuous thunderstorm. We began to feel fearfully hungry, and
stopp