turned on, and every man stood stock still till all was dark again.

Between men of the incoming and outgoing battalions such casual
greetings were exchanged as: "Wot's it like up here, matie?"; "'Ow are
yer goin', son?"; "Yer want to keep your 'ead well down in this
part--it's a bit 'ot"; "So long, sonnie." Sprawling, ducking and diving,
we got in, and "safe" behind the sandbags. Just as my chum and I had
entered the dug-out, and were preparing to make ourselves comfortable,
as our turn for sentry-go would not be for two hours, the sergeant
shoved his head in and shouted that we were wanted for a ration party.


RATION PARTIES.

A ration party consists of fourteen men--fewer sometimes, but fourteen
if possible, as the proper full complement. The small carts in use are
generally of rude and primitive construction. As everybody knows by now,
rations comprise bully beef Spratt's biscuits--very large and rather
hard--loaves of bread packed in sacks, bacon, jam, marmalade,
Maconochies in tins, and, when possible, kegs of water. Let not the rum
be forgotten. No soldier is more grateful for anything than for his
tablespoonful of rum at half-past six in the evening and half-past four
in the morning. His "tot" has saved many a man from a chill, and kept
him going during long and dreary hours of wet and press. As to bread, by
the bye, it is highly probable that one small loaf, about half the size
of an ordinary loaf, will be divided between seven men. With the good
things already enumerated, a plentiful supply of charcoal and coke is
usually to be expected. The horse transports with these provisions never
get nearer than, at the closest, say half-a-mile of the front trench
itself, when the men in charge dump their loads down and get away back