rs, however, were not
so lenient and they frequently made excellent use of their good ration
of ammunition, so that we were able to make daily notes of the changes
in the scenery, particularly in Havrincourt village. Considerable
interest was aroused one morning, soon after our arrival, by the sudden
disappearance of Havrincourt Chateau in a cloud of red brick dust and
smoke. This was always a mystery and a frequent source of controversy.
Did the Boche blow it up, and if so, why? Or did it go off as a result
of our shelling, and again, if so, why? Some said they saw
stretcher-bearers moving about amidst the debris afterwards, which
rather indicated the second theory.

We enjoyed the advantages of a continuous front line here, but naturally
a good deal of time had to be spent in perfecting the system, both in
digging and wiring. The brigade was given an opportunity of leaving its
mark on the war-geography of France, two copses in No Man's Land being
dubbed "Wigan Copse" and "Dean Copse" by the 5th, while we were
responsible for "Manchester Trench" and "Cheetham Hill," "Henley Lane"
serving to keep green the memory of the brigadier. Two great chalk
craters showed up in front, "Etna" and "Vesuvius" respectively, and one
of the jobs of the patrol commanders by night was to find out if the
former was occupied by the Hun. We very soon found that it was, and that
he appeared to use this and the two copses as starting points for his
patrols. Thus, when our parties went out at night, the possibility of an
encounter in No Man's Land was never remote, and indeed there were a few
clashes of this sort. It was all a great education for the battalion,
for such work as this had not often come our way in the Gallipoli days,
and there had been no opportunity of practising it since. It was
considered advisable to get as many officers and men as possible out on
patrol at some time or other, for there was a noticeable difference in a
man's morale, and in his attitude towards trench life, once he had
returned from such an adventure. He was conscious of having in a way
asserted his manhood--more than his pal who had not been out--and the
dim uncertainty of what there might be in front of our wire had gone. He
knew now what was there--nothing. He was acquainted with the ground in
such a way that if the enemy did wish to attack he knew exactly where he
could get him with Lewis gun, rifle or bombs. A spirit of confidence was
thus engendered in t