But how we have loved it.  At least I have.  Some of the others—­Jorrocks for instance—­have been bored.  But, then, they couldn’t draw, poor dears.  Do you know I have done three pictures.  That’s a lot in this military life.  One of the courtyard, with cocks and hens and things, and in the distance men cleaning their saddles.  Another of the vestibule, with Julian and Edward consulting over some map or other at a table.  Another of a “fosse” or coal-pit about a mile away.  A coal-pit sounds repulsive, but not so in Northern France.  They are away from all houses and surrounded by corn-fields.  The coal refuse is the curious part of it.  Up it comes from the main shaft and is piled up into a series of large pyramids, visible for miles around.  Many of the famous “redoubts” are coal-refuse pyramids really.  And such nice little chimneys.  Rinaldo—­gone!  Isn’t it heartbreaking!  An important person comes nosing round, and asks for him.  Sir John doesn’t like to refuse.  I am powerless.  Adieu, dear Rinaldo!  One gets awfully fond of a horse.  Rinaldo was very naughty sometimes, but I loved him all the more for it.  And now his good looks have been disastrous.  Oh that he had been uglier.  Isn’t it maddening.  Such a leaper, so fast, and such courage.  Well, perhaps I shall see him again.

June 19.

[Sidenote:  FEBVIN TO BAILLEUL]

At the last moment an order that we are not to go.  Then late last night an order to send on an advanced party of one officer and one sergeant and two men immediately.  So off I go with Sergeant Dobbin and Hunt and Noad.  We had to find billets and bivouacs for the squadron at a place far from here.  This we did, and the squadron has just arrived, and we have had lunch and are feeling very fat indeed.  We have just seen a pretty aeroplane show.  Six of them flew over our heads towards the Boche, and presently puff, puff! went the little dark clouds of smoke all amongst them.  They then got too high and too far off for us to see, but we still saw the Archie shells following them.  First a flash in the sky, then a very dark spot; then the spot grows larger and fluffier, and becomes a dusky little cloud.  So you see some flashes, some dark spots, and some larger fluffy clouds—­all on the wretched aeroplane’s track.

Only two returned, alas! but they told us they had brought down three
Aviatiks.

We’re moving with great rapidity up into colder climes.  More anon.

June 22.

I wrote a p.c. early this morning, as I thought I might get no other chance.  Things are all merry and bright.  We have moved up like oiled lightning from ——­ to a rather famous place.  Hedges and hop-fields.  Very interesting church—­not hurt at all.  We are suffering so (at least, the poor men are) from thirst.  There’s no water anywhere.  I long to gulp down green pond water.  However, that will be remedied shortly, I hope.  I went into the big town and bought a barrel of beer for the men.  Tempting Providence.  But there’s nothing else.  The water isn’t good even when boiled.  However, all will be well soon.