h and his hands in his
pockets the whole time he was speaking; he was quite jovial, cracking
jokes all the time. He impressed upon us the importance of sending
messages back when we reach our objectives; he said that if we do not do
so it will mean his coming up to the front line himself for information
'and I don't want to have to do that,' he laughed, 'but it will come to
that if necessary,' he went on in a more serious tone, 'and it will be
woe betide the platoon commander whose negligence has brought his
brigadier-general's life into danger!' At the conclusion of his speech
the General asked whether any of us had any questions to ask. I could
have asked one, but I know he would not have answered it; so I remained
silent!

"Archbishop Lang was in the big town half-way between here and the front
line on Monday, but I did not see anything of him. Nor did I see the
Queen when she was inspecting the hospitals there. But I think it very
fine of Queen Mary to visit troops within range of the Germans guns as
she did.

" ... It is now evening and is quite bright, the sun is shining into the
tent where I am writing this. We have been stationed here since July 21,
and are now marching back in a few minutes to a camp beyond the
above-mentioned town--where I went to reconnoitre this morning.

"You will see that it is impossible to write any reply to 'Bumjo' at
present as I have not the time.[9] I also warn you not to get the wind
up if you do not hear from me for a week or so. I can quite foresee a
period of that length elapsing between my letters now, as before this
present week is out we shall be engaged in fighting the great battle of
the North. 'Bumjo' will have to wait until we come out of action again.
I intend to deal with him and give him the telling-off which his
impudence and his treason are asking for after the battle. I hope to
have more leisure then! So au revoir!"

These days at Watou, while being days full of work, were not unpleasant.
We had plenty to talk about; and, seated on the grass on a summer
evening, Joe Roake would make us rock with laughter at his quaint and
humorous tales of his experiences when a sergeant at Loos and other
battles. Roake was always a great asset to any mess when he honoured it
by a visit. He hated Headquarters Mess; he was always ready to jump at
any excuse to get away from the society of Colonel Best-Dunkley; and he
was never happier than when, over a nice selection of drinks, he