to, and longing for a good sleep that night. Every aching limb of their
bodies cried out for rest, and here they were going to be put on outpost
duty for yet another night. Imagine their state of mind! Is there a
word to cope with the situation? Assuredly not, though great efforts
were made! Darkness fell so swiftly that the Officers had scarcely time
to "site" the position of their trenches. Then the weary business of
entrenching began again. Have you ever heard the tinkering, tapping,
thudding sounds made by entrenching implements or spades? None of the
men who heard it that night will ever forget it. It will give them a
memory of energy, promoted by the desire for safety, clogged by heat and
fatigue.

At about eleven or twelve at night a fair cover had been made, and the
long-sought rest became possible at last--not, however, the sleep that
the Subaltern had been longing for all day, not complete oblivion to
body and mind, for the fear of surprise was upon him even in his sleep,
and he knew that if his precautions should prove insufficient, he would
have to answer for sixty good lives. In addition there was the cold of
the cloudless night, and the clinging wetness of the dew. These things
would not have allowed him to sleep, even if he could.

A fresh day began very similar to the last. There were no signs of the
enemy to the immediate front, so the work of entrenching continued. A
"fatigue party" went to draw rations, which were distributed at about
seven o'clock. This was their first introduction to "bully" beef and
hard biscuits. Also, wonder of wonders, a "mail" was distributed.

He was lying in the corn just beginning to eat a biscuit and read a
letter, when the voice of the Senior Subaltern called him from somewhere
up the line. Thinking that he had got another letter, or something of