trucks of hay and straw and built them in a stack. I got
several stray pieces down my neck. After that we had to
unload a traction load of coal in one-cwt. sacks, and oh,
they were dirty and awkward too. We had sacks over our heads
like ordinary coalmen, and you ought to have seen our hands
and faces when we had finished. We could not get any tea, as
we were expecting three more trolleys. After about two hours
the trolleys came, and we unloaded some meat; it took three
of us to lift some of the pieces. Then after that bacon,
oats, tea, jam, and about 1,000 loaves of bread. We were
proper Jacks-of-all-trades and were thoroughly tired out.

"This seems a funny sort of Christmas Day, but it will be
all right after five o'clock. Of course I'd rather be in
London and see you all. Still, all the same I'm rather
enjoying myself this afternoon. I have a big box of chocs.
by the side of me, and they are gradually diminishing. And
now I feel in a better mood."

The Y.M., as it is now always called by the men at and from the front,
played a very important part, an invaluable part, in Sydney Baxter's
camp life. He writes:

"We were about twenty minutes' walk from the village, and at
first there was absolutely nothing there to go down for,
and we seemed doomed to a very uncomfortable winter.
However, the words of a well-known war song, 'Every cloud is
silver lined,' are very true. _Our_ cloud was soon brightly
lined by the Y.M. people, who discovered the best way to do
it in no time. A hall was acquired in the village for the