I had dropped out of the train between Amiens and Landrecies. It had
been quite a little tragedy, as it was a pipe for which I had a great
affection. It had been my companion in Switzerland and Paris.

Coming back from the Square I came across an excited crowd. It appears
that an inoffensive, rather buxom-looking woman had been walking round
the Square when one of her breasts cooed and flew away. We shot three
spies at Landrecies.

I hung round the Signal Office, nervous and excited, for "a run." The
night was alive with the tramp of troops and the rumble of guns. The old
108th passed by--huge good-natured guns, each drawn by eight gigantic
plough-horses. I wonder if you can understand--the thrilling excitement
of waiting and listening by night in a town full of troops.

At midnight I took my first despatch. It was a dark, starless night;
very misty on the road. From the brigade I was sent on to an
ambulance--an unpleasant ride, because, apart from the mist and the
darkness, I was stopped every few yards by sentries of the West Kents, a
regiment which has now about the best reputation of any battalion out
here. I returned in time to snatch a couple of hours of sleep before we
started at dawn for Belgium.

When the Division moves we ride either with the column or go in advance
to the halting-place. That morning we rode with the column, which meant
riding three-quarters of a mile or so and then waiting for the
main-guard to come up,--an extraordinarily tiring method of getting
along.

The day (August 21) was very hot indeed, and the troops who had not yet