"But Corps haven't instructed you to water here," he persisted.
"Neither have they told us not to come here," I countered.
We parted, agreeing to refer the whole matter to Corps. Corps, I might add, ruled that we should be allowed to water 200 horses per hour at certain hours, and that the other Division should police the performance.
I had returned in time to administer the distribution of fifty-nine remounts come from the base to replace battery horses killed by bombs and shell-fire, or evacuated by "Swiffy," our veterinary officer, to the Mobile Veterinary Section, as a result of the hard-going and watering difficulties since the advance started on August 8th.
I was talking to the staff captain about the ammunition dumps he had arranged for the coming battle, when the brigade clerk handed me a buff slip just arrived from the Casualty Clearing Station. It stated simply that 2nd Lieut. Garstin had died as the result of gun-shot wounds. Poor boy! a handsome well-mannered youngster, who had come out to France practically from school.
I finished talking to the staff captain and walked to the colonel's tent. I told him of Garstin's death.
"Wounded last night taking up ammunition, wasn't he?" said the colonel gravely.
"Yes, sir. He had finished the job and was coming back towards Lieramont. Two of the men were wounded as well."
The colonel pulled out the note-book in which he kept his list of the officers in the Brigade.
"That leaves C Battery very short of officers. You'd better transfer—let me see—M'Whirter from 'B.' ... And ask the staff captain if we can have an officer from the D.A.C."