and "stick it out," consoling ourselves with the vague hope that
by the end of the week our gunners might possibly have garnered
sufficient ammunition to justify a few brief hours' retaliation. The
boot is on the other leg now. For every Boche battery that opens on
us, two or three of ours thunder back a reply--and that without any
delays other than those incidental to the use of that maddening
instrument, the field-telephone. During the past six months neither
side has been able to boast much in the way of ground actually gained;
but the moral ascendancy--the initiative--the offensive--call it what
you will--has changed hands; and no one knows it better than the
Boche. We are the attacking party now.

The trenches in this country are not arranged with such geometric
precision as in France. For instance, the reserve line is not always
connected with the firing-lines by a communication-trench.
Those persons whose duty it is to pay daily visits to the
fire-trenches--Battalion Commanders, Gunner and Sapper officers,
an occasional Staff Officer, and an occasional most devoted
Padre--perform the journey as best they may. Sometimes they skirt a
wood or hedge, sometimes they keep under the lee of an embankment,
sometimes they proceed across the open, with the stealthy caution
of persons playing musical chairs, ready to sit down in the nearest
shell-crater the moment the music--in the form of a visitation of
"whizz-bangs"--strikes up.

It is difficult to say which kind of weather is least favourable to
this enterprise. On sunny days one's movements are visible to Boche
observers upon distant summits; while on foggy days the Boche gunners,
being able to see nothing at all, amuse themselves by generous and
unexpected contributions of shrapnel in all directions. Stormy weather