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.
No More Collecting
I have given up collecting pieces of shells for souvenirs, having found myself a veritable Krupp’s scrap heap. Spies seem to be the chief excitement here, and the old motto has been altered to read, “Catch that spy!” Two days ago a haystack was found in the interior of which was a complete telegraph office working by underground cable to the German lines, and thus the Germans were kept acquainted with our movements and the disposition of our artillery: A Telegraphist, 1st Army Headquarters.
Worthy of Tom Brown
Another chap tried to get some bread at a farm. After he had made all sorts of queer signs the woman seemed to understand, and said, “Oui, oui, M’sieur,” rushed back into the house and brought back a bundle of hay! There was a terrific roar of laughter from the troops. The nonplussed look on the woman’s face and the “fed-up” expression on the chap’s made a picture worthy of the pencil of poor old Tom Brown: Bombdr. E. Cressy, Royal Field Artillery.
Wonderfully Popular
The troops are wonderfully popular, and I think a lot of it is due to their kindliness to the kiddies and animals, and also to their unbounded enthusiasm and good spirits. There’s no grousing, and there is nothing but what fun is made of. No one has seen the soldier at his best unless he has seen him here. Grimy, unshaved, his khaki full of grease marks, and tired out, yet full of life and fun, his sole luxury a good wash—grub, sleep, everything goes to blazes if there’s water to be had for a wash, but, good Lord, you should see our towels: A Sergeant of the Army Service Corps.