deserve it.' On which they would shrug their shoulders and say, 'Madame,
c'est la guerre!' evidently wishing to see me terrified. But I never
gave them that pleasure."

A long drive home, through the dark and silent country. Yet everywhere
one feels the presence of the Army. We draw up to look at a sign-post at
some cross roads by the light of one of the motor lamps. Instantly a
couple of Tommies emerge from the darkness and give help. In passing
through a village a gate suddenly opens and a group of horses comes out,
led by two men in khaki; or from a Y.M.C.A. hut laughter and song float
out into the night. And soon in these farms and cottages everybody will
be asleep under the guard of the British Forces, while twenty miles
away, in the darkness, the guns we saw in the morning are endlessly
harassing and scourging the enemy lines, preparing for the day when the
thoughts now maturing in the minds of the Army leaders will leap in
flame to light.

* * * * *

To-day we are off for the Somme. I looked out anxiously with the dawn,
and saw streaks of white mist lying over the village and the sun
struggling through. But as we start on the road to Amiens, the mist
gains the upper hand, and we begin to be afraid that we shall not get
any of those wide views from the west of Albert over the Somme country
which are possible in clear weather. Again the high upland, and this
time _three_ tanks on the road, but motionless, alack! the nozzles of
their machine guns just visible on their great sides. Then a main road,
if it can be called a road since the thaw has been at work upon it.
Every mile or two, as our chauffeur explains, the pave "is all burst up"
from below, and we rock and lunge through holes and ruts that only an
Army motor can stand. But German prisoners are thick on the worst bits,
repairing as hard as they can. Was it perhaps on some of these men that
certain of the recent letters that are always coming into G.H.Q. have
been found? I will quote a few of those which have not yet seen
the light.

Here are a batch of letters written in January of this year from Hamburg
and its neighbourhood:

"It is indeed a miserable existence. How will it all end? There is
absolutely nothing to be got here. Honey costs _6s. 6d_. a pound, goose
fat _18s_. a pound. Lovely prices, aren't they? One cannot do much by
way of heating, as there is no coal. We can just freeze and starve at
home. Everybody is