gradually you begin to track out safe routes. Don't go near the edge of
---- Wood, but 200 yards inside the wood, on the north side, you're
pretty comfy. Don't go near the mangled remains of ---- village, but
keep to the right of it until you get to the wrecked aeroplane, and then
turn down the remains of ---- trench, and you probably won't be touched.
That sort of thing.

[Sidenote: BOCHE DUG-OUTS]

I've been sleeping in the most superb Boche dug-out. Very deep; I
should think 30 feet down. The inside is pillared rather like the
studio, and cretonned all over with maroon-coloured stuff instead of
wall-paper. There are lovely little cupboards everywhere, and doors and
window-frames just like a real house. The windows, of course, only look
out on to an air-shaft, so it's very dark, and you have to have candles
all the time. The windows have no glass, of course, as that would be
shattered to smithereens by the vibrations. Then there's an arch and
more steps down lower still, into the bedroom for two.

Yesterday, being rather misty, I thought as follows:

"It is too foggy to see what Fritz is doing. No attack is intended or
expected. The Colonel is at corps H.Q. Swallow and Jezebel and Tank are
safe in ---- valley. Roger is still here as Adjutant. Why not an
afternoon off?"

So picture a holiday-maker armed with a revolver, two gas helmets, tear
goggles, some sandwiches, and a large empty haversack. Now where to go?
What about ---- trench and all round ---- village, even, perhaps, a
lightning five minutes in the village itself? We have just taken the