Jan. 13th.
Quiet day. Went back to front line at 7 p.m. for a further forty-eight hours. Quiet night.
Jan. 14th.
Found in the morning that in addition to the usual bombs, grenades and shells we had a trench mortar opposite us, which kept lobbing big black objects over all day, burying men and knocking our trenches to pieces. There was not much else they could use on us now; but we gave them back two for every one we received, and at 2 p.m. we commenced a big “strafe” with rifle-grenades, bombs and mortars. It was good to see them bursting, and altogether we expended over 800 (!) in an hour.
We got all manner of things back, from a bullet to a 6-inch. The latter were falling 100 yards from the rear of our breastworks, and we could actually see them falling the last fifty feet or so.
All quiet by 4 p.m. Quiet night—far different to our expectations.
Jan. 15th.
Each side shelling all day unceasingly, with the usual quota of bombs. We were relieved at 7.30 p.m., and came back in safety to ——, after six more days of LIFE?
Very weary, and thankful for quiet and my valise.
Sunday, Jan. 16th.