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brother,

      Raymond"

      "I hope you get my communiqu�s regularly from home (swank). Some one must have the time of their lives copying out all the stuff I write. I hope, however, there are a few grains in the bundle of chaff (I'm fishing again)!

      "You say, Norah, that you don't think the ch�teau was as quiet as I described. Well, provided I mentioned our gun, that went off at occasional intervals close behind it with a terrific report, it was just as I described—a peaceful summer afternoon. I know that people think that everything in Belgium is chaos and slaughter, but it isn't so. For instance, where Fletcher is, is a charming country place with trees and fields and everything in full green. Simply ripping. If I had only had a motor-cycle to see it from instead of a trotting horse I should have enjoyed it even more!

      R."

      "Wednesday, 19 May 1915, 12.50 p.m.

      "You must know that we have now only three officers in our Company. I am very sorry indeed to lose Fletcher. He went off for a rest cure yesterday morning to a place about five miles from here. He is my greatest friend in the Battalion, so I miss him very much and hope he won't be long away. He will probably go back to England, however, as his nerves are all wrong. He is going the same way as Laws did and needs a complete rest. I am going to ride over to see him this afternoon with the Captain. I am afraid it won't be 'good going' as the roads are thick with mud. The slightest rain, and they are as bad as ever.

      "I told you that I was Mess President (M.P.). I am sure you would smile to see me ordering the meals, and inspecting the joints. I don't know anything about them, and when the cook calls me up specially to view a joint I have hastily to decide whether he means me to disparage it—or the reverse. However, I am usually safe in running it down."

      "Thursday, 20 May 1915, 9.10 a.m.

      "We rode over and saw Fletcher yesterday and had tea with him. He is with about twenty other similar cases in a splendid ch�teau (this one is not ruined and has magnificent grounds). Unfortunately this is probably the very worst possible treatment he could have. He has nothing to do, no interest in anything, and no society except people who, like himself, want cheering. He does not read, he does not even walk about the grounds. He cannot sleep much, and he said he did not know exactly what he did. Under these conditions I know it will not be long before he is sent home. Brooding is just the very worst thing for him. He sees all the past horrors all over again; things which, at the time, he shut his mind to. The best treatment (even better than home, I think) would be to send him back for a month or so to Crosby. He would then have plenty to occupy his mind and would have cheerful companions. … "

      "6.20 p.m.

      "I have attached a list of a few slang terms and curious expressions in use in this Regiment and I believe universal at the moment. Some of these are amazing, and it is difficult to trace the origin. 'Drumming up' is one, and 'wind up' another. I saw an old Belgian cart yesterday, a three-wheeled affair. It had been overturned on its side and the spokes of the lowest wheel had been broken. Well, some one had 'drummed up' on them—every one had disappeared. These men here will 'drum up' on anything. 'Drumming up' on a thing does not mean lighting a fire on it but with it.

      "When we were at that place where we were for a week, there was a most peculiar state of affairs. The Germans were holding a small piece of trench joining, and in line with, ours. They were only separated from us by double barricades—their and ours. They corresponded to the meat in a sandwich. [A sketch is omitted.] When I say 'ours' I mean the English. I was not actually in this trench, but in the one just behind. The trench on one side of the 'meat' was held by one of our Companies, and the other by another Regiment. … "

      "Friday, 10.20 a.m.

      "My nickname in the Mess is 'Maurice' (with a French pronunciation); I am called after the small boy in the grocery shop here. The good dame always says 'Oui, monsieur le lieutenant!' 'Non, monsieur le lieutenant!' to everything one says; she gets in about six to the minute. Well, we used to imitate her after our visits to the shop, and one day she called out 'Maurice'; so Fletcher calls me 'Maurice,' and I reply, 'Oui, monsieur le lieutenant.'"

       Table of Contents

Water-Party A fatigue party carrying water.
To have Wind up (to rhyme with 'pinned up')—To be uneasy, 'on edge.'
Drumming up Making a fire for the purpose of warming food.
Blighty England.
A Blighty Wound A wound that necessitates invaliding home.
Pucca Real, genuine.
Rally up A short period of considerable firing in the trenches.
Dug-out A cramped dwelling-place, usually above ground.
Stand-to An hour of preparedness at dawn and at dusk when every one is
awake and wears his equipment (in trenches and supports
only).
Stand-down The finish of 'stand-to.'
Knife-Rests Barbed wire in sections.
Cushy A 'soft' thing.
To Go Sick To report oneself ill to the doctor.
To Get Down to it To lie down, go to bed.
Cribbing or Grousing Complaining.
20.5.15 R. L.

       Table of Contents

      "26 May 1915

      "I expect you have read it, but I want to recommend to you Simon Dale, by Anthony Hope.

      "We had the gas over here on Monday morning about 3 or 4 a.m. Although it was coming from a point about four miles away, as we learnt afterwards, it was very strong and made our eyes smart very much.

      "We have got hold of some liqueurs from Railhead, a large bottle of Chartreuse and one of Cura�ao.

      "Good-bye and good luck."

      "Saturday, 29 May 1915, 8.30 p.m.

      "We have again done a little move, this time with bag and baggage. We are now on the outskirts of 'No. 1,' and due west of it. The men have built themselves dug-outs along a hedge and we (C Coy. officers) are installed in an untouched ch�teau. Quite comfortable. Fine lofty rooms. We only use part of the house. We have the kitchen, and a large dining-room on the ground floor. We sleep upstairs on the first

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