general), one of them was a major, two of them were exploring their
shirts, paying no attention to the occasional shells which passed
overhead. The major was writing a letter; every now and then he would
lay aside his writing-pad, search his shirt for a few minutes, get an
inspiration, and then resume writing. At last he finished his letter
and gave it to his "runner." I was curious to see whether he was
writing to an insect firm, so when the runner passed me I engaged him
in conversation and got a glimpse at the address on the envelope. It
was addressed to Miss Alice Somebody, in London. The "runner" informed
me that Miss Somebody was the major's sweetheart and that he wrote to
her every day. Just imagine it, writing a love letter during a
"cootie" hunt; but such is the creed of the trenches.



CHAPTER III

I GO TO CHURCH

Upon enlistment we had identity disks issued to us. These were small
disks of red fiber worn around the neck by means of a string. Most of
the Tommies also used a little metal disk which they wore around the
left wrist by means of a chain. They had previously figured it out
that if their heads were blown off, the disk on the left wrist would
identify them. If they lost their left arm the disk around the neck
would serve the purpose, but if their head and left arm were blown
off, no one would care who they were, so it did not matter. On one
side of the disk was inscribed your rank, name, number, and battalion,
while on the other was stamped your religion.