Yesterday I was out with my troop, quite uninteresting.  But what do you think?  Something exploded not 100 yards away from Rinaldo.  I was much farther off, dismounted.  He didn’t turn a hair, but only looked round and watched the smoke.  Whereas, as you know, a little bit of paper blown across the road sends him into paroxysms of terror.

[Illustration:  A conference in the chateau de FEBVIN-PALFART There are many of these old chateaux-farms in Northern France.  The beds are under great frowsy canopies and all the curtains are looped up with heavy tassels.]

June 11.

I went into an old church in a large town ten miles from here to-day with Sergeant Hodge.  There were the usual tinsel things and red baize and sham flowers.  Sergeant Hodge much impressed.  He said after we emerged:  “You know, sir, it’s very fine indeed.  It puts me in mind of a bazaar.”  This was in all good faith, and was intended as a great compliment to the church!  We are having lots of rain, which is bad for the horses, who are picketed in the open.  And thunder.  It’s often extremely difficult to tell whether, when the thunder is far away, it is thunder or guns.  Quite a novel experience, and quite pleasant after the long period of make-believe in England.  Discipline.  So salutary and so irksome.  Now for the battle.  I own I long to get into the thick of it soon.  We see infantry returning and going up, and we feel sick, somehow, to be still safe.

This country is very charming, but a bit monotonous.  Every road and every field exactly like every other.

June 13.

[Sidenote:  A service for Kitchener]

A service to-day for Kitchener.  And we had to ride fifteen miles there in pouring rain.  Then we stood in deep mud for about an hour, the rain gradually trickling down our necks.

To-day delicious rumours of a German defeat at Verdun.  Lots of prisoners, including the Crown Prince!

Goodness me, such rain.  Jezebel bit Swallow above the eye merely to show what her feelings were.  He now has one eye enormously swollen and almost closed up.  It is dressed with iodine, so he looks most remarkable.  His beauty much damaged.  But it will only be temporary.

Hunt tells me that Swallow is so frightened of Jezebel he daren’t lie down at night.  But then, Hunt thinks Jezebel a sort of Bucephalus, and the more horses she kicks or bites the more pride he takes in her.  He has no love for Swallow, unfortunately.

There’s a distant cannonade going on to-day.  We all eye each other.

June 17.

In the small-hours of to-night we leave this wonderful place.  Why we were ever sent here or why moved away is one of those mysteries only known to a few staff officials.