With nerves on edge, we curse the numerous and apparently purposeless halts, become uncomplimentary about our leaders, revile horses for jogging and stumbling, warn companions of the damage they are likely to do if they persist in being careless with their rifles. Cheerful and good-tempered soldiers are few at 03.00.
And so on until we hail with relief the approach of dawn, which dispels the hallucinations of darkness.
“ARAM.”
ROMAN FORT, JERICHO
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HORSES UNDER COVER
[middle]
A. L. HORSE IN CAMP
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2nd A. L. H. MARCHING THROUGH KHAN YUNIS
A Gloomy Outlook
Amidst the universal joy—booming of guns, ringing of church bells, cheering, and the screeching of ships’ sirens—I am gloomy and ill at ease. I cannot share in the thanksgiving and tumultuous welcome of Peace; my mind is dark with foreboding, oppressed by thoughts of three things that have made so many happy lives miserable during the Great War.
With the knowledge that huge stocks of dubbin, bully and biscuits are on hand, how can a chap be joyful? They must be disposed of—not cast into the incinerator—and thoughts of the woe that they will cause make me sorrowful.