V

But the newest and most fashionable form of winter sport this season
is The Flying Matinée.

This entertainment takes place during the small hours of the morning,
and is strictly limited to a duration of ten minutes--quite long
enough for most matinées, too. The actors are furnished by a unit of
"K(1)" and the rôle of audience is assigned to the inhabitants of the
Boche trenches immediately opposite. These matinées have proved an
enormous success, but require most careful rehearsal.

It is two A.M., and comparative peace reigns up and down the line. The
rain of star-shells, always prodigal in the early evening, has died
down to a mere drizzle. Working and fatigue parties, which have been
busy since darkness set in at five o'clock,--rebuilding parapets,
repairing wire, carrying up rations, and patrolling debatable
areas,--have ceased their labours, and are sleeping heavily until the
coming of the wintry dawn shall rouse them, grimy and shivering, to
another day's unpleasantness.

Private Hans Dumpkopf, on sentry duty in the Boche firing-trench,
gazes mechanically over the parapet; but the night is so dark and the
wind so high that it is difficult to see and quite impossible to hear
anything. He shelters himself beside a traverse, and waits patiently
for his relief. It begins to rain, and Hans, after cautiously
reconnoitring the other side of the traverse, to guard against
prowling sergeants, sidles a few yards to his right beneath the
friendly cover of an improvised roof of corrugated iron sheeting, laid
across the trench from parapet to parados. It is quite dry here, and