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Letters to Helen - Impressions of an Artist on the Western Front by Keith Henderson
page 51 of 104 (49%)
are so amusing that I must describe them to you.

The Colonel and I were up trying to find a "working-party" from the
regiment. The regiment is sadly split up at present into various parties
doing various jobs in various places, all unpleasant. Better than
infantry work, but still unpleasant.

We rode up much closer than we have ridden before, and left the
Colonel's orderly and Hale in a bit of a valley with Minotaur, Jezebel,
Hob, and Tank. Tank is a new mare I've got. Hale was riding her, as I
never take Swallow closer than I can help.

We dismounted in this small valley, and the Colonel's orderly and Hale
were given orders to move if any shells were put over too near them.

Then the Colonel and I went up through a wood that is just a few
splintered stumps now.

We passed behind several batteries, and I thought to myself: "Dash it
all! I know my eyes can't be watering because of the noise. What the
deuce is the matter? I hope the Colonel won't notice."

However, on we waded and plodded. Suddenly the Colonel stopped, and
exclaimed: "Oh damnation! This is perfect nonsense." His eyes were like
tomatoes, and the tears were rolling down his cheeks!

By this time we could hardly see at all, and it dawned on us that we
must hastily put on our tear goggles, which we had never used before,
but always, of course, carry. They go in the satchel along with the two
gas helmets.
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