“Q.  No. 6.—­Do you get acquainted with French civilians,
     and have you picked up any of their language?

“A.—­There are a few civilians in the deserted villages near the firing line, and by dint of repetition and purchase I have picked up a little, but I cannot possibly spell it.  You see we do not enter towns.

     “Q.  No. 7.—­When one series of trenches is built, how does
     the enemy get a chance to build close to them?

“A.—­How?  Why, under cover of darkness, either by putting a line of men to form a screen and keep up firing with men digging behind, or by digging a trench at right angles, and making a T. The first method is mostly used as it is quicker, but more casualties occur.

     “Q.  No. 8.—­Do you have any fear of air raids over the
     trenches?

“A.—­No, because a trench is too small an object to be likely to be hit by a bomb dropping from a height.  The flying men would very possibly hit their own people instead.  However they drop them on our rest billets.  We get used to the shells, and this is only another way of presenting them.

     “Q.  No. 9.—­What about gas?

“A.—­They very seldom use it now.  Our helmets are so efficient, they cannot do any harm in sending it over.  They might catch one or two who were slow in getting their helmets on, but we have gongs to give warning.”

One Young Man’s Leave

CHAPTER XI

ONE YOUNG MAN’S LEAVE

He again writes: 

“We had done two days out of our six in the trenches a little south of Albert.  They were in such a state that it was impossible to walk from one post to another.  The mud was over our knees and all communication was cut off by day.  At night we fetched our rations, water, and rum by going over the top—­a little sought-after job, for Fritz was most active and cover scarce.  I had just finished my two hours at the listening-post, and had crawled into my dug-out for a four-hour stretch.  It was bitterly cold, and although I had piles of sandbags over me I couldn’t get warm, and, like Bairnsfather’s ‘fed-up one,’ had to get out and rest a bit.  Two hours of my four had passed when word came down that I was wanted by the Sergeant-Major.  Hallo, thinks I, what am I wanted for?  Ah, letters!  I was a source of continued annoyance to the Captain because of my many letters.

“However, he that expecteth nothing shall receive his seven days’ leave, for that’s what it proved to be.  I stood with unbelieving ears whilst the Serjeant-Major rattled off something to the effect that I was on the next party for leave, and was to go down H.Q. the following night.  I crawled back to my dug-out, wondering if I was really awake.  Eventually