on fine days, of which we've had
few. The men were paraded, and then sent route-marching, which they much
enjoyed. It was possible, as word was sent that the train was not going
out till 1.30. It did, however, move at 12, which shows how little you
can depend on it, even when a time is given. They had a mouth-organ and
sang all the way.

_Monday, December 21st._--Got to Boulogne early this morning after an
exceptionally rackety journey, all one's goods and chattels dropping on
one's head at intervals during the night. Engine-driver rather _ivre_,
I should think. Off again at 10.30 A.M.

Mail in.

Weather appallingly cold and no chauffage.

On way up to Chocques, where we shall take up Indians again. How utterly
miserable Indians must be in this eternal wet and cold. The fields and
land generally are all half under water again. We missed the last two
days' papers, and so have heard nothing of the war at home, except that
the casualties are over 60,000. Five mufflers went this afternoon to
five men on a little isolated station on the way here. When I said to
the first boy, "Have you got a muffler?" he thought I wanted one for
some one on the train.

"Well, it's not a real muffler; it's my sleeping-cap," he said,
beginning to pull it off his neck; "but you're welcome to it if it's any
use!"

What do you think of that? He got pink with pleasure over a real muffler
and some cigarettes. You start with two men; when you come back in a
minute with the mufflers the two have increased to five silent expectant
faces.

_Wednesday, 23rd._--We loaded up at Lillers late on Monday night with
one of the worst loads we've ever taken, all wounded, half Indians and
half British.

You will see by Tuesday's French communiques that some of our trenches
had been lost, and these had been retaken by the H.L.I., Manchesters,
and 7th D.G.'s.

It was a dark wet night, and the loading people were half-way up to
their knees in black mud, and we didn't finish loading till 2 A.M., and
were hard at it trying to stop haemorrhage, &c., till we got them off the
train at 11 yesterday morning; the J.J.'s were swarming, but a large
khaki pinny tying over my collar, and with elastic wristbands, saved me
this time. One little Gurkha with his arm just amputated, and a wounded
leg, could only be pacified by having acid drops put into his mouth and
being allowed to hug the tin.

Another was sent on as a sitting-up case. Half-way through the nigh