e wet weather had ceased, and a biting east wind reigned in
its stead.

On one occasion an elaborate night operation was arranged. Four
battalions were to assemble at a given point five miles from camp, and
then advance in column across country by the light of the stars to
a position indicated on the map, where they were to deploy and dig
themselves in! It sounded simple enough in operation orders; but when
you try to move four thousand troops--even well-trained troops--across
three miles of broken country on a pitch-dark night, there is always
a possibility that some one will get mislaid. On this particular
occasion a whole battalion lost itself without any delay or difficulty
whatsoever. The other three were compelled to wait for two hours and
a half, stamping their feet and blowing on their fingers, while
overheated staff officers scoured the country for the truants. They
were discovered at last waiting virtuously at the wrong rendezvous,
three-quarters of a mile away. The brazen-hatted strategist who drew
up the operation orders had given the point of assembly for the
brigade as: ... _the field_ S.W. _of_ WELLINGTON WOOD _and due_ E.
_of_ HANGMAN'S COPSE, _immediately below the first_ O _in_ GHOSTLY
BOTTOM,--but omitted to underline the O indicated. The result was that
three battalion commanders assembled at the O in "ghostly," while the
fourth, ignoring the adjective in favour of the noun, took up his
station at the first O in "bottom."

The operations had been somewhat optimistically timed to end at 11
P.M., but by the time that the four battalions had effected a most
unloverly tryst, it was close on ten, and beginning to rain. The
consequence was that the men got home to bed, soaked to the skin, and
asking the Powers Above rhetorical questions, at three o'clock in the
morning.

Next day Brigade Orders announced that the movement would be continued
at nightfall, by the occupation of the hastily-dug trenches, followed
by a night attack upon the hill in front. The captured position would
then be retrenched.

When the tidings went round, fourteen of the more quick-witted spirits
of "A" Company hurriedly paraded before the Medical Officer and
announced that they were "sick in the stomach." Seven more discovered
abrasions upon their feet, and proffered their sores for inspection,
after the manner of Oriental mendicants. One skrimshanker, despairing
of producing any bodily ailment, rather ingeniously assaulted a
c