_August 18th, 1915._

I am very busy, but my work is becoming more and more
interesting, and I am about in the open air almost all the time.
To-day I have had a twenty-mile horse-ride. My little mare ran
like clockwork. She is a gem of a horse. I am hoping also to get
some motor driving. There is no speed limit here. Talk about
express trains! No; Rugby football is not much appreciated by the
9th Brigade. Cavalry officers swear by polo. To see them play a
polo match is a sheer delight, for they are the best horsemen in
the world.

Many men of our Cavalry Division are at present employed in
making a reserve line of trenches some distance behind the real
article. Our own brigade is digging vigorously in the grounds of
a fine old chateau. The Supply Officer and I, as his understudy,
go up continually in a car conveying special supplies and to do
various other duties. The chateau grounds are well within enemy
gun range, and most of the neighbouring buildings have been blown
to atoms. Yesterday the first news that greeted us from the
trench-diggers was that they had been bombarded that morning by
gas shells, among other pleasant surprises. While we were
pursuing our duties I heard a boom, followed by a long, sighing
screech, then a violent crash about fifty yards off. It was a
German shell. Another and yet another followed. Suddenly an
R.A.M.C. man came running up to fetch a stretcher--someone had
been knocked out. As the nearest man at hand I joined him in
carrying the stretcher, and we doubled our fastest for the trees
where the first shot had pitched. We found that an R.A.M.C. man
had been struck above the ankle by a piece of shrapnel. The wound
was small, but deep and ugly, and the leg was broken. The poor
chap was in terrible pain. We conveyed him as carefully as we
could to the field ambulance. There had been other casualties
hereabouts in the morning.

More and more shells, and then a lull. After this exhibition of
afternoon hate, we took tea with some officers of the 15th
Hussars in a tent in the chateau grounds. It was a delicious
meal, and was not interrupted, though enemy shells from time to
time shot over our heads and exploded some distance away in the
woods behind. The ineffectiveness of the enemy shelling was
gre