_September 20._

[Sidenote: TOWARDS GEUDECOURT]

We are long past Fritz's first line; past his second line; at his third
line; and his fourth line he is wildly digging now--places for his
M.G.'s wire, etc. But he's very, very hard put to it. We have almost all
the high ground. Our guns are at it day and night. Trench warfare no
longer exists. A few hastily dug holes, a few short lines of trench,
mostly battered to pieces, and that's all. It's almost open fighting.
Even the infantry come up across the open. No communication trenches,
nothing of that sort. The crump holes are continuous. There's scarcely
an inch of ground that isn't a crump hole.

I was up in an interesting wood this morning with the Colonel. Now, this
will give you some idea of how dislocated and above-ground everything
is:

We wanted to go to a place the other side of the wood. When we reached
the middle of the wood, where a new O.P. of ours has been established,
Fritz put up a barrage on the edge of the wood. Very well, then. We just
waited at the O.P. till the barrage was over, and then calmly walked
out. The wood is only a few shattered stumps of trees, and the place
where undergrowth once was is one continuous sea of earth thrown about
in every conceivable shape, with dead Tommies and dead Fritzes lying
side by side. So the wood isn't much cover, you can imagine.

On the far side of the wood is beautiful rolling country, but not green.
It's all brown, just a mess of earth. It's pitted with holes just like
sand after a hailstorm. In the distance you can see real lovely trees,