casualty clearing
station near by. A most mournful and yet most impressive
spectacle it was. As I returned I saw long strings of ambulances
coming down from the Front--a sight that spoke eloquently of the
toll that this war is taking of our best. I note you say that the
new Welsh Division will be going out presently, either to France
or to the Dardanelles. I hope that they will prove worthy of the
great name that the Welsh have made for themselves in this war.
Yesterday I chatted with a Welshman from Pontypridd, a Regular in
the First South Wales Borderers. He had been out here right from
the very start, had been twice wounded, and, except for one
convalescent period of a fortnight, had had no leave at all.
Chris Fowkes, who was wounded some time back, was in the same
company as this sturdy Welshman.[1]

[Footnote 1: Fowkes was a contemporary of Paul's at Dulwich.]

_October 6th, 1915._

The general impression here now is that the advance is proving a
very tough proposition. The casualty list is of colossal
dimensions. All the signs point to a long war.

A French interpreter is attached to each battalion of British
infantry, or regiment of cavalry, with a liaison officer, or
interpreter officer, attached to each brigade in addition.
Personally, I have never found any need for an interpreter's
services. I am able to make almost any of my requirements
comprehensible to the inhabitants, and I think I may describe
myself as being really fluent in French by this time. It is
perfectly amazing how few of our people can talk any other
language than their own.

That was a piquant incident at the College as described by Hal. A
little dash of unconventionality like that is wanted in Dulwich
and in all Public Schools. They, like other national
institutions, are terribly prone to get into a groove. Though
that groove be a good one, yet an occasional lift out of it can
do no harm. But there's no doubt about it that, conservative
though they may be, our Public Schools have done marvellously in
this war. The system has proved its value ten thousand times
over, and never so much as on these gory plains of Flanders and
the hilly crags of Gallipoli. Of late the officer casualties have
been fearful, an