The shelling died down after a couple of hours, and we stood down and tried to sleep; but it started again at 12.45 a.m. for an hour, and again at 4.45 a.m.; and this practically meant stand-to all night.
One of the worst nights I’ve spent out here—in fact, the worst.
About 2 a.m. I got word that ——, one of our B Co. officers, was killed while waiting to go out on patrol to ascertain the effects of gas on enemy. He was a fine chap, and most popular, and even now it is difficult to believe he is really gone. Another lucky escape for us (B Co.) that we were not occupying the trenches. They were blown out of all recognition and the casualties were awful, the lines being strewn with dead and wounded and buried men.
The trench occupied the previous night by my platoon is absolutely gone, and only six men are left in the platoon holding it at the time of the “show.”
Dec. 23rd.
Shelling continued all the morning—most uncomfortable, and we had many narrow escapes, walls round us being blown to h—; but still our cellar got off. We were relieved at 12.30, and, things being quieter, we got off down the road at top speed.
What joy to see actually motor buses waiting for us three miles back, which took us by way of —— to ——, a small village where our few days’ rest and incidentally Christmas, will be spent. The change will be much appreciated by yours truly. I have just had my first wash and shave for four days, and feel cleaner than ever before in my life; and in a clean change and new suit I wouldn’t call the King my aunt!
A delicious surprise was the sight of H. on the road, waiting for me as our convoy of buses neared ——. We had a good chat, and I hope to see him to-morrow again.
Dec. 24th.