The Old Horse
I came down to the rest camp with others to get a fresh horse. My old horse was shot under me. I was sorry, too, for he was a splendid animal, and it is solely due to him that I am alive to write this letter. We had to make a run for it, and I can tell you that those with slow horses did not get far. Things are going very well indeed with us now, although they are about five, and in some cases twenty, to one. But we can generally manage to thrash them: Corpl. R. Greenwood, 18th Hussars.