Two hours of my four had passed when word came down that I
was wanted by the Sergeant-Major. Hallo, thinks I, what am I
wanted for? Ah, letters! I was a source of continued
annoyance to the Captain because of my many letters.

"However, he that expecteth nothing shall receive his seven
days' leave, for that's what it proved to be. I stood with
unbelieving ears whilst the Serjeant-Major rattled off
something to the effect that I was on the next party for
leave, and was to go down H.Q. the following night. I
crawled back to my dug-out, wondering if I was really awake.
Eventually reaching our post, I cried, 'John, my boy, this
child's on a Blightly trip.' No profuse congratulations
emanated from that quarter, but a voice from a dug-out
cried, 'Good! you can take that clip of German cartridges
home for me.' This was our souvenir hunter; he'd barter his
last biscuit for a nose cap of a Hun shell, and was a
frequenter of the artillery dug-outs. My next two hours'
guard was carried out in a very dreamy sort of way. I had
already planned what I should do and how I would surprise
them all. Next day I was busy scraping off the mud from my
tunic and overcoat. I spent hours on the job, but they
seemed very little different when I had finished.

"That night I covered the three miles of mud and shell-holes
to H.Q. in record time. There I met the other lucky ones and
received orders to turn in and parade at 9 a.m. for baths
and underclothing. There were no trousers, puttees, or
overcoats in the stores, and so we had to come over as we
were, a picture that had no fitting background other than