On July 18 I wrote home as follows:  “More gas shells came over last night.  We had the gas curtains down again, but, even so, gas is bound to get in.  There are fresh gas casualties every day.  The number is rising rapidly.  Giffin has, at last, reported sick with gas and has departed to hospital to-day—­another officer less!  So now instead of having no platoon at all I find myself in command of the two, 7 and 8!”

I never saw Lieutenant Giffin again.  I shook hands with him in the dug-out and said good-bye when he announced that he had reported sick and was going down the line.  He went away and never returned; I have heard absolutely nothing of him since.

“Our guns have been blazing away all night, and are still pounding the enemy lines.  Our bombardment is now going full swing.  But the Germans are sending shells over too.  Five B Company men were wounded by one shell, just outside, this morning.  One of them was Hartshorne.  He has got four shrapnel wounds and is off to hospital.  I have been speaking to him this afternoon.  He said that they were hurting a little, but he seemed quite happy about it.  He said that he wished he was in hospital in Middleton!  It is nothing very serious; it should prove a nice ‘Blighty’ case!

“The padre is now back from hospital!  He has not been there long, has he?

“A few of those men who went to hospital with gas on July 13 were marked for ‘Blighty’ and were just off, when General Jeudwine stopped them and said that as few as possible from this Division must be sent home at present.  So, instead of going back, they have turned up here again as ‘fit.’  Hard luck!”

My diary of the same date (July 18) states that in the afternoon “I went on a working party with Sergeant Clews and fifteen men.  We were filling in shell-holes on the road near St. Jean.  After we had filled in a few we got shelled.  We took refuge behind an artillery dug-out for about an hour.  The shells were falling close all the time.  One fell less than six yards from me.  I quite thought we were going to have some casualties, but the only one we had was one man who got a scratch in the arm with a piece of shrapnel.  At 5.15 we decided to come back via a trench, as the shelling was still going on.  All got back safely.  But it is most disconcerting—­one cannot go out on a little job like that in the afternoon without having the wind put up us vertical!  I had tea and dinner.  Then to bed.  I felt very hot and could not get to sleep.  Allen returned from a working party at 10.15 p.m.  There was a strafe on at 10.30; the German trenches were being raided in four places.”

The following day, July 19, I wrote to my mother as follows: