Well, I'll
resume at the first possible moment; for, in the Army, what
you don't go and fetch you never see, and then again, first
come first served, last man the grouts."
* * * * *
"Here we are again; I was last for dinner, but didn't do
badly by reason of it. I am writing this at a house which
our Chaplain has put at our disposal. It's quite a treat to
sit on a chair and write at a table, after sitting on the
ground with knees up and a bad light.
"The trenches are in a rotten state now owing to the heavy
rain and the snow. It's like walking on a sponge about
eighteen inches deep. Squelch, squelch you go and not
infrequently get stuck; parts are knee deep in water, and
icy cold water trickling into your boots is the reverse of
pleasant or warm. Then the rain trickles through the
dug-out roof--that caps it. I really don't think there can
be anything more irritating than the drip, drip in the
region of the head. Then of course your hands are covered in
mud, for as you walk along you need your hands to keep your
balance, and the sides are all muddy as well. You come
inside then and eat your quarter of a loaf for breakfast and
go without for tea--the usual ration is one-third of a loaf,
which generally is found sufficient.
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