ry to scuttle his craft and save his honour.

Another fatigue, which was highly unpopular, took place in relays from 6
p.m. to 10, or from 10 to 2 a.m. The scene was the goods yard of the
railway where trucks had to be loaded with great bales of forage, sacks
of grain, or cases of bully and biscuit for the personnel at railhead.
Snatched from the tender care of their officers, the men were delivered
over to N.C.O.'s of an unknown breed, probably a cross between R.E. and
A.S.C. and Ordnance Corps, with a highly technical jargon picked up in
happier days in the goods yards of English railways. Great naphtha
flares cast a blinding light, dispelling the friendly gloom on which
every right-minded private relies, if unlucky enough to have to work at
night. The still air is solid with dust, increased every moment as G.S.
waggons, each drawn by a team of maddened mules, enter the yard at a
hand gallop, scattering all in their path. The atmosphere is one of
strenuous profanity, most uncongenial to the unhappy infantry. At last
the officer in charge--ironic phrase--determines that time is up and
raises a feeble outcry amid the din. Fortunately the sheep know their
shepherd, and will hear his voice. The men fall in and he listens to
complaints and soothes the indignant. One man laid his tunic down and a
mule ate a great bit out of it. Another cannot get his arm straight
"after lifting thae bales." A still, small voice asserts that a man has
as much chance of doing what the R.E. wants, as a gnat has of fighting
a ---- aeroplane. The sergeant numbers them off. There is of course one
missing; but the officer, being certain that he is either a mangled
corpse among the mules, or far more probably triumphantly asleep on a
stack of tibbin, declines to search for him, and the party steps out for
home, are challenged by a pessimistic sentry, dismissed, and, stumbling
over their recumbent comrades, find an unoccupied corner of their tents,
and sleep the sleep of the just till reveille--and after, if possible.

Such was life, broken by an occasional Sunday's rest with the Divisional
Band, or at any rate two men with cornets to help with the singing at
Church Parade. Services were often held under difficulties, but one has
heard of no sadder case than that of the Padre who went off to hold a
parade for some transport men stationed near the railway line. He had no
hymn books but, being an optimist, chose well-known hymns and one of the
officer