out an unlimited supply of tea and buns to all.  Eventually at 5 p.m. our train was ready, and we entrained—­all except two platoons, for whom there was no room.  The transport was loaded on to flats which were hooked on behind our wagons, and we finally started up country at about 7 o’clock.  The train moved slowly northwards all night, stopping for a few minutes at Rouen, and reaching Abbeville just as dawn broke at 7 a.m.  Here, amidst a desolation of railway lines and tin sheds, we stayed for half an hour and stretched our cramped limbs, while six large cauldrons provided enough hot tea for all.  From this point our progress became slower, and the waits between stations proportionally longer, until at last we reached a small village, where, according to our train orders, we should stop long enough to water horses.  This we began to do, when suddenly, without any whistling or other warning, the train moved on, and Major Martin and Captain Burnett, who were with the horses, only just managed to catch the train, and had to travel the next stage on a flat with a limber.  At St. Omer we were told where we should detrain, a fact hitherto concealed from us, and eventually at 2-35 p.m. in a blizzard and snow storm we reached Arneke, detrained at once, and marched about five miles to the little village of Hardifort, where we arrived in the dark.

We were, of course, entirely inexperienced at this time, and in the light of subsequent events, this, our first attempt at billeting, was a most ludicrous performance.  The Battalion halted on the road in fours outside the village, at the entrance to which stood a group headed by the C.O. with a note-book; behind him was the Mayor—­small, intoxicated and supremely happy, the Brigade Interpreter, M. Loest, with a list of billets, and the Adjutant, angry at having caught a corporal in the act of taking a sly drink.  Around them was a group of some dozen small boys who were to act as guides.  The Interpreter read out a name followed by a number of officers and men; the C.O. made a note of it and called up the next platoon; the Mayor shouted the name at the top of his voice, waved his arms, staggered, smacked a small boy, and again shouted, at which from three to five small boys would step out and offer to guide the platoon, each choosing a different direction.  How we ever found our homes is still a mystery, and yet by 10 p.m. we were all comfortably settled in quarters.  We were joined the next morning by the two remaining platoons, 2nd Lieuts.  Mould and Farrer.

The billets were slightly re-arranged as soon as daylight enabled us to see where we were, and we soon settled down and made ourselves comfortable, being told that we should remain at Hardifort until the 4th March, when we should go into trenches for a week’s instruction with some Regular Division.  We had nothing much to do except recover from the effects of our journey, and this, with good billets and not too bad weather, we soon did.  The remainder of our Brigade had not yet arrived, so we were attached temporarily to the Sherwood Foresters, whose 8th Battalion was also absent, and with them on the 4th moved off Eastwards, having the previous day received some preliminary instructions in trench warfare from General Montagu-Stuart-Wortley, who spoke to all the officers.