The enemy opposite us were very quiet, and obviously knowing of the relief, were waiting to see what we should do.  With the French there is no doubt that they had had a tacit understanding not to wage a vigorous war, though, while seeming inactive, they had all the time been undermining the French trenches.  With us they were uncertain what to do, so for 24 hours did nothing except fire a few rifle shots, one of which came through the parapet and killed C.S.M.  E. Thompson, of “B” Company.  On the evening of the second day they went one step further, and threw a single grenade, received two in return, and remained quiet for the night.  The next morning, the 11th, they threw six more, all short, and we replied with 10, five of which fell in their trench and apparently convinced them that we intended war; at any rate they made no more tentative efforts, but in the afternoon started more or less in earnest.  At 4.45 p.m. they blew up a small mine opposite “A” Company, demolished a sap-head, and half buried the solitary occupant, who escaped with bruises only; after this they bombed, or tried to bomb us, until 8-0 p.m., while we replied at the rate of two to one.  Unfortunately, the explosions caused a collapse in our parapet, about 10 yards of which fell down suddenly, and had to be re-built during the night.

The following night proved to be still more exciting.  Soon after midnight a French sapper, narrowly escaping several sentries who thought he was a Boche, came running along the line excitedly waving his arms, and saying:  “Mine, mine, faire sauter, demi-heure.”  No one knew what he meant, though we gathered a mine would probably go up somewhere in half-an-hour, whether ours or theirs we had not the least idea.  Eventually he was led to Battalion Headquarters, where he explained that the French were going to blow a camouflet in half-an-hour.  It was already nearly an hour since he first said this, and nothing had yet happened, so we hurriedly cleared a small portion of our front line and waited, while we sent for the Tunnelling Officer.  He arrived, and the “blow” was arranged for 5-0 a.m., at which hour there was a terrific explosion, a forty-foot crater was formed, and another ten yards of our parapet fell down.  Such an explosion must have been caused by a much bigger charge than we had laid, so we probably included in our “blow” a Boche mine laid ready for us.  We easily bombed off a party of his which tried to rush the crater, and spent the day re-building our fallen parapet.

Rations, ammunition and R.E. material in this sector were brought to the “Talus des Zouaves” on mule-drawn trucks along a narrow-gauge Railway from Mont St. Eloi.  Here, at a big Corps R.E.  Dump, the trucks were loaded every evening, the mule teams hooked in, and the party set off, much harassed at times by bullets and shells, and seldom reaching home without losing one, and often two animals.  The Dump in the “Talus” also got shelled; but the steep banks made the danger light and not much damage was done in this way, though the Boche kept up a prolonged bombardment at it with 5.9’s on the evening of the 14th.  Except for this, the rest of the tour passed quietly, and on the following night the 4th Lincolnshires relieved us, and we went back to rest in Camblain L’Abbe huts, where we stayed for six days.