"There was only one working party last night. I went to bed at 10 p.m. At 10.20 there was a terrible row on our front. A big artillery duel was going on, machine-guns were firing continuously, and flares were going up! I sat up in bed and watched it all through the prison bars. It went on for about twenty minutes! I should think it must have been a raid of some sort. Shortly after this, Priestley came to bed, and, later, Verity and Barker. We had quite a long discussion upon all kinds of topics ranging from the conduct of the war (East versus West), and the doctrine of the Apostolical Succession, to the character and policy of Winston Churchill (whom, of course, they all detest!), and the pre-war morals of civilian Ypres, concerning which Barker held very decided views. We went on arguing until dawn broke! Then we got to sleep.
"I rose at 10 this morning. When I entered the mess for breakfast I was greeted by the inquiry from Captain Andrews: 'How's Palestine?' They all think that the war will end out here and in two or three months' time! They think that the next great offensive will end it. I admit that there is a great deal to be said for their theory; our plans are good, and if successful, will probably do the trick; but I am none too sanguine. We shall see. I hope they are right. Everybody does. Everybody is 'fed up' with the war; that goes without saying. I have not read a single one of the men's letters in which they do not say that. To say that, and to inform their people that they are 'in the pink' is the stock substance of their letters!
"I ought now to tell you something about my platoon. To give you the names of my non-commissioned officers is surely not giving away any information which would be of use to the enemy! So I do not see why I should not do so.
"As I may already have told you I am in command of No. 7 platoon. My platoon sergeant (second-in-command) is Sergeant Williams. (He was a waiter in Parker's Restaurant in St. Ann's Square, Manchester, in pre-war days). A platoon consists of four sections, each of which is commanded by a corporal. My sections are as follows: Rifle Section commanded by Lance-Corporal Tipping; Bombing Section commanded by Lance-Corporal Livesey; Lewis Gun Section commanded by Lance-Corporal Topping; and Rifle Grenade Section commanded by Corporal Baldwin. You will notice that a Lewis Gun Section is part of every platoon; I think that is sufficient answer to your question whether the fact of my attending lectures on the Lewis Gun meant that I should go into a Lewis Gun Section.
"There has not been much to do to-day; nor has anything very notable happened during the day up to now. It is now 6.40 p.m. So I will close."
"June 10th.
"Last night the whole Battalion went out on working parties; so I had command of a party. My party was detailed to repair the parapet of a communication trench just behind our front line. I set off with Sergeant Williams and a party of fourteen men of my platoon at 9.40, just as it was getting dark. We were soon in the open fields and so could see all around us the ruined buildings of the great city. Three shells fell across the path we had traversed, after we had passed the points. Fritz was just a little too late on each occasion! We went on in the dusk, amidst the flashes of booming guns and exploding shells and flares lighting up the weird ruins and ghostly country, as far as a dump (Potidje) where the remainder of the Battalion appeared to be congregated. It occurred to me what a number would have been knocked out if a shell had burst just by this dump just then! Fortunately no such thing happened. Tools were drawn here; then we proceeded on our way by platoons. The whole region was swarming with little wooden crosses where lie the thousands who have fallen on this oft-fought, long-fought, ever contending, battlefield. We threaded our way along a winding communication trench (Pagoda Trench). We passed a party in the trench with bayonets fixed—a party of one officer, Lieutenant Alexander, and thirty men of the 1/4th King's Own—waiting to go over the top for a bombing raid on a section of the enemy front line. 'Good-byee!' they laughed as we passed them. Eventually we reached the point at which we were to commence work. Flares were going up the whole time; the enemy must have seen us: the whole crowd of us all in the open by the side of the trench which was to be repaired! When a flare goes up the whole place is as light as day for a few seconds; and they were going up all round the Salient—what remains of it, one side disappeared on Thursday morning! Now and then a machine-gun would rattle a few rounds, and we would all duck down; but none of them were ranged on our party.
"At 11.20 I was informed that Captain Andrews wished to see me; and, with some difficulty, I found him. He was in a trench with the other B Company officers and Sergeant-Major Hoyle. He had sent for us in order to tell us that at 11.35 we must each bring our parties into a certain trench (Oxford Road) for refuge as we knew that the bombing raid was coming off at 11.45, and we expected that the Germans would retaliate. So I brought my party into this trench at the appointed time. We were there just in time. At 11.45 our barrage—artillery, stokes-mortars and machine-guns—opened on the section of the enemy trench to be raided (Ibex Trench from Oskar Farm to The Stables) a little to our right; and as our barrage lifted, the bombers went into the enemy trench. We could hear the bombs exploding. The enemy replied by sending 'whizz-bangs' in the vicinity of the trench in which we were taking refuge. Some of them burst within a yard or two of us; but we crouched behind the parapet, and there were no casualties.
"At about 12.30 this morning, when the raid was over and things had quieted, we emerged from the trench and went back to the job. Just before we got back an ugly instrument of death familiarly known amongst the boys as a 'minnie' burst about the spot where our work was. That was not encouraging! But we went back and set to again. One or two more 'minnies' burst not far from us while we were there. You should have seen us duck! And the flares continued rising and falling. We constantly heard the shells from the big guns screaming like express trains over our heads; and every now and then a machine-gun or a Lewis gun would spurt forth its bullets. We felt anything but comfortable! One man in C Company was carried away with very bad shell-shock—a 'Blighty' all right! None of us were sorry when 2 came. Major Brighten came along just before it was time to stop. 'Is that you, Floyd? How are you going on?' he inquired as he passed me. He is liked by everybody. He is awfully nice.
"Major Brighten is the young Major who is temporarily in command of the Battalion while the real Commanding Officer—the notorious Colonel Best-Dunkley—is home on leave. By the way—I have not seen Colonel Best-Dunkley yet. He was away when I arrived. I am told that it is a treat in store for me! He is simply hated by everybody. His reputation as a beast is famed in 'Blighty.' I heard about him in the 5th Reserve; and Brian Kemp told me about him when we were in Harrogate. He is discussed here every day. From what I hear he is a horrible tyrant; nobody has a good word to say for him. So I am looking forward to seeing this extraordinary man. He is only twenty-seven! His greeting to Verity when he arrived a month ago was: 'Who the d—— are you?'