The men enjoy these jobs too; it is much better than doing nothing.
"I will creep back to my quarters now and make myself some tea on my 'Primus' (no fires are allowed).
"A cuckoo has been singing on a tree near me—in full view. (It left hurriedly when one of our guns went off close behind the ch�teau.) The first time I have ever seen one, I think. It is amazing how tame the animals get. They have so much ground to themselves in the daytime—the rats especially; they flourish freely in the space between the trenches.
"Things are fairly quiet and easy here just now."
[In one of his letters to me (22 April 1915), he said he had plenty of time now to watch the stars, and would like a set of star maps or something in order to increase his knowledge of them. Accordingly, I sent him a planisphere which I happened to have—an ingenious cardboard arrangement which can be turned so as to show, in a rough way, the stars visible in these latitudes at any time of day and any period of the year.—O. J. L.]
"May Day 1915, 3.20 p.m.
"Thank you very much for the planisphere and for your letter. I have often seen the planisphere before, but never appreciated it until now.
"As to the 'Very' pistol, I quite agree that the 'barrel' is too short. If it were longer the light would be thrown farther, which would be much better. As it is, it falls between us and the Germans.
"The German lights, which I now learn are fired from a kind of mortar and not by a rocket as I thought, are much better than ours; they give a better and steadier, fatter light, and they are thrown well behind our trenches. However, ours are much better, and theirs are worse than they used to be. …
"They have not turned the gas on to us here, though on some days I have smelled distinct traces coming down wind from the north. I should say it was chlorine rather than SO2 that I smelled. I don't know whether the ammonia preventive would be better than the soda one. In any case, the great thing is that one is provided. The soda method is the one in use, I believe, in the chlorine works at Widnes and elsewhere."
"Tuesday, 3 May 1915, 12.40 p.m.
"For the first three days we are out here in new billets—officers in a comfortable little house. Last three days of our 'rest' (!) we are going into a wood quite close to our 'Reserve Billets.' We are in 'support' in case of a sudden attack. Roads are so much knocked about by shells that traffic is limited and restricted. So we might not be able to support quick enough unless we were close.
"Everything is still very much upset, due to the penetration of our (French) line. They have been shelling our village from the rear (!) and most of the companies have had to quit. We (C Company) are well back now. …
"Two of our platoons went digging last night. Mine was one. We left here about eight o'clock, and I got back at 1 a.m., and then I sat up with another subaltern (Fletcher) after I had had some supper until the other man (Thomas) had come in and eaten. We went to bed at 3 a.m. Breakfast at nine this morning, and we are resting. However, I am going to have an absolutely slack day to-day. A bath too, if I can manage it. …
"Last night the moon got up very late and was quite useless. They fire more when there is no light, they get scared—at least uneasy; they fire off 'Very' lights constantly, and let off volleys. We lie absolutely flat while this goes on. It is a funny sight; the men look like a row of starfish!"
"Tuesday, 11 May 1915, 9.15 a.m. (really Wednesday the 12th. I had got wrong)
"We are within view of a well-known place [no doubt Ypres.—O. J. L.], and the place has been on fire in three or four places for about two days, and is still going strong. A magnificent spectacle at night. The place is, I believe, a city of ruins and dead, and there is probably no one to put a fire out. Probably, too, a fire is rather a good thing than otherwise; the place must be terribly in need of purifying.
"I was awfully interested in father's dream.[3] Your letter is dated the 8th, and you say that the other night he dreamt that I was in the thick of the fighting, but that they were taking care of me from the other side.
"Well, I don't know about 'the thick of the fighting,' but I have been through what I can only describe as a hell of a shelling with shrapnel. My diary tells me it was on the 7th, at about 10.15 a.m. Our Company were ordered forward from one set of dug-outs to others nearer the firing line, and the formation adopted was platoons in single file, with intervals between. That is, four columns of about fifty men each, in single file, with about 20 to 50 yards between each column. I was the third platoon, though I was not with my own but with No. 9. Fletcher brought up the last one, thus:—
(My platoon is No. 11.—No. 9's platoon commander, Laws, is in England on sick leave, as his nerves are all wrong.)
"Well, anyhow, we had not gone far before the gunners saw us, and an aeroplane was flying along above and with us. They sent over some 'Johnsons,' but these all went too far; we were screened by a reservoir embankment. However, we had to pass through a ruined village and they knew it, so they put shrapnel over it. Still we were unaffected. But when we came out into the open on the far side, we caught it properly. Shell after shell came over and burst above us, and when I and about three men behind me had just turned a corner one burst above, in exactly the spot I should have wished it to if I had been the enemy. I looked up and saw the air full of flying pieces, some large and some small. These spattered down all round us. I was untouched, but my servant, who was immediately behind me, was hit on the knee, but only wounded slightly. He was rather scared. I led him back round the corner again and put him in a ditch. The rest of the platoon got in too, while I was doing this. I thought that was the best thing they could do until the shelling ceased, but Fletcher shouted that we must get on, whatever happened.
"So I called the men out again, and, leaving a man with the wounded, we set off. I don't believe it was right, but we just walked along. It felt rather awful. (When one is retiring it is important not to let the men 'double,' as they get out of hand; but in this case we were advancing, so I think we might have done so.) I felt very much protected. It was really a miracle that we weren't nearly all 'wiped out.' The shrapnel seemed very poor stuff. As it was, we had one man killed and about five or six injured, all more or less slightly.
"We moved up into a support trench that same evening, and after a couple of days we moved a few yards farther to these trenches, which are also support trenches. Things are very quiet, and I am enjoying myself very much. If it wasn't for the unpleasant sights one is liable to see, war would be a most interesting and pleasant affair.
"My friends the other officers of C Company have given me the honorary position of 'O.C. Works.' One is always 'O.C. something or other' out here—all but the Colonel, he is 'C.O.' Orders for the day read: "O.C. Companies will do so-and-so.' Then there are O.C. Details, O.C. Reinforcements, etc. 'O.C.' of course stands for 'officer commanding.' Well, I am 'O.C. Works,' and have a fine time. I just do any job I fancy, giving preference to trench improvement. It is fine to have at one's disposal a large squad of men with shovels (or without). They fill sandbags and carry them, they carry timber and saw it, and in short do anything that is required. One can accomplish something under these conditions."
"6 p.m.
"We have been told that we are being relieved to-night, and that we are going back to our old place (No. 2). So everything should be as before, once we are back. We may not manage to get all the way back to-night, as we cannot travel by daylight as most of the road is under direct observation. If daylight catches us we shall encamp in dug-outs en route.
"I am rather disappointed that we are going to-night, as Fletcher and I were going to rebuild our dug-out here. We both got very keen indeed and had laid out the plan carefully. (He has been an architect.)
"I