Our first visit was made to the Belgian Headquarters in the town for our
_laisser passers_, without which we would not be allowed to pass the
sentries at the barriers. We were also given the _mots du jour_ or
pass-words for the day, the latter of which came into operation only
when we were in the zone of fire. I will describe what happened in
detail, as it was a very fair sample of the average day up at the front.
The road along which we travelled was, of course, lined with the
ubiquitous poplar tree, placed at regular intervals as far as the eye
could see. The country was flat to a degree, with cleverly hidden
entrenchments at intervals, for this was the famous main road to Calais
along which the Kaiser so ardently longed to march.

Barriers occurred frequently placed slantwise across the roads, where
sentries stood with fixed bayonets, and through which no one could pass
unless the _laisser passer_ was produced. Some of those barriers were
quite tricky affairs to drive through in a big ambulance, and reminded
me of a gymkhana! It was quite usual in those days to be stopped by a
soldier waiting on the road, who, with a gallant bow and salute, asked
your permission to "mount behind" and have a lift to so and so. In fact,
if you were on foot and wanted to get anywhere quickly it was always
safe to rely on a military car or ambulance coming along, and then
simply wave frantically and ask for a lift. Very much a case of share
and share alike.

We passed many regiments riding along, and very gay they looked with
their small cocked caps and tassels that dangled jauntily over one eye
(this was before they got into khaki). The regiments were either French
or Belgian, for no British were in that sector at this time. Soon we
arrived at the picturesque entry into Dunkirk, with its drawbridge and