I could not endorse the ultra-optimistic view of the course of the campaign which Sir Douglas Haig had inspired.  Major Brighten was beaming with delight as he read out Sir Douglas Haig’s Order, and informed us that General Jeudwine and General Stockwell, with whom he had just been conversing, were equally “bucked” about it all.  And he laughingly chaffed me upon my pessimism.  I told him quite frankly that I did not share the general opinion.

That night only one company had to go out to work, and the company detailed was C Company; so I was not affected.

In the course of a letter written the following day (June 8) I wrote: 

“I went to bed about 10 last night.  About 2, Barker, Priestley, and Verity returned from their working parties.  Priestley was very doleful; he was mournfully discussing the horrors of the war, and of his evening’s experiences in particular.  And it appears that there was some reason, for he had been in command of a party of eight whose mission had been to fetch back some steel helmets from the trenches. (A ruse had been played upon the Boche on Messines Night.  A large number of helmets had been placed in such a position as to encourage the Boche to think that we were concentrating troops there instead of, or as well as, at Messines and Wytschaete!) They were returning, and Priestley was remarking that the Boche was very quiet just at present, when a shell burst amongst them.  Four of his party were wounded and one killed; and a piece of shrapnel went right through the tube of his box-respirator, he himself escaping unhurt.  A near shave!  ’Well, do you think those helmets were worth the life of one man and injury to four others?’ I heard him asking.”

In my next letter (June 9) I wrote: 

“There was only one working party last night.  I went to bed at 10 p.m.  At 10.20 there was a terrible row on our front.  A big artillery duel was going on, machine-guns were firing continuously, and flares were going up!  I sat up in bed and watched it all through the prison bars.  It went on for about twenty minutes!  I should think it must have been a raid of some sort.  Shortly after this, Priestley came to bed, and, later, Verity and Barker.  We had quite a long discussion upon all kinds of topics ranging from the conduct of the war (East versus West), and the doctrine of the Apostolical Succession, to the character and policy of Winston Churchill (whom, of course, they all detest!), and the pre-war morals of civilian Ypres, concerning which Barker held very decided views.  We went on arguing until dawn broke!  Then we got to sleep.

“I rose at 10 this morning.  When I entered the mess for breakfast I was greeted by the inquiry from Captain Andrews:  ‘How’s Palestine?’ They all think that the war will end out here and in two or three months’ time!  They think that the next great offensive will end it.  I admit that there is a great deal to be said for their theory; our plans are good, and if successful, will probably do the trick; but I am none too sanguine.  We shall see.  I hope they are right.  Everybody does.  Everybody is ‘fed up’ with the war; that goes without saying.  I have not read a single one of the men’s letters in which they do not say that.  To say that, and to inform their people that they are ‘in the pink’ is the stock substance of their letters!