a small chateau. We are in farms. Most farms take anything from 50 to 100 men, and all the farms are similar. There is a central square with a sort of depression in the centre, which is covered with dirty straw and filthy water; all the rubbish is thrown into it, and pigs, hens, and cows, wander at will all over it. I asked the doctor this morning if it was not very unhealthy, but he said that fortunately such places became septic filters. I think he said they breed all sorts of bacteria and they have a squabble among themselves, and by fighting against each other keep things all right. If the Austrian and German bacteria would only do the same it would save a lot of trouble. Round the cesspits are barns and pig-houses, &c. A lot of barns. Instead of stacking hay and straw as we do they seem to put it in barns. The men sleep in the barns; they snuggle down into the straw and enjoy themselves thoroughly. They are just like kittens and quite as happy, playing round and hiding themselves in the straw. We set out for our billets, and were halted when we came to our farms. I was in the rear when word was passed down that I was needed in front, and I went up and found a small farm on the left and a big one on the right. I was told my platoon would be in the little one and the rest of the company in the big one, so I was sent in to tackle the owner, who did not know a word of English, and to settle my men. I did my best, my French is just good enough to make myself understood at a pinch, and I am getting on. The farmer showed me round and I put the men into two barns. Then I asked him "Avez-vous de l'eau a boire?" and he replied "Mais oui." Then he showed me a pump. We then drew some water to make tea in the company's travelling cooker. The Quartermaster-Sergeant asked me to come and listen to it. About ten yards off my nose told me where it was; it was filthy, so we had to try elsewhere.

The first night I slept very comfortably in an attic in the chateau with Battalion Headquarters. Monsieur and his son and the old cook, whose husband is a prisoner in Germany, still live in part of the house, the other empty rooms we have, the Colonel having a toppingly furnished room. Then we picniced quite happily the first night, breakfasting off coffee and bully beef at about 10-0 the next morning. The next day we spent in settling in and organising things. We are about 24 miles from the firing line and sometimes hear the big guns and see plenty of aeroplanes. Two Taubes flew over yesterday, were shelled in the air, and chased away by our aeroplanes.

It was arranged that we would collect most of our company together, and officers sleep together, so I came down to this farm. We have three-quarters of the Company here, my platoon in the farm I told you about, and the others in the big farm. The officers, the Company Commander and three subalterns have a room in the house, with big windows opening out into the yard of the big farm. The room is on the second storey. We have a large bed with a feather mattress, two of us have the mattress on the floor, and very comfortable it is. We censored our men's letters and so to bed.

In the afternoon we went to the village and purchased eggs, candles, bread, &c., and I scrambled the eggs for dinner and made chocolate, in addition to our bully beef, which was stewed in the company's cooker and made a very good stew. We then censored our men's letters and went to bed.

The letters seem most meagre affairs. All they said was that they were writing to send their addresses. They were much as follows:—

This is not an actual letter, but a similar one to them all.

Interruption. A knock came in "Monsieur il y a un soldat qui vous demande" "Merci madame est-il dehas" "O oui Monsieur," Merci Madame. I go and see. B Company Officers' valises have gone astray, &c.

When we were finally in bed and almost asleep comes loud knocking. Brown puts his head out of the window. "For the love of Heaven, come and show us our billets." B and D Companies have just arrived a day later than us and their guide is deficient in common sense. We are quite old soldiers now and past such excitement; we could billet ourselves in China if necessary. However, Brown goes to help. To-day we rose early and breakfasted at 10-0 off bacon and eggs (fried by me), bread and jam. We have a company orderly officer, and it is my turn to-day, so I had to get up and put trousers, coat and boots over my pyjamas and to mount a guard at 8 a.m. and to dress properly afterwards. We have cold baths out of a hand basin and shave. One is very particular about shaving and all small details. The men have to be kept as smart as possible, and it is laid down that shaving is most important. If left to themselves they soon grow long beards, long hair and dirty clothes. All the morning we spent in cleaning up. We swept out the yard. They hardly know themselves now. The farm has never been so clean before. We built an incinerator to burn all our rubbish; we organised a Company Store, a cobbler's shop, and we have a qualified cobbler to do all our repairs. We organised our rations, and collected remains to make stews for the men. Constructed scrapers for boots outside each barn to keep them clean. At about 12-0 a.m. the doctor and C.O. came round with me and inspected our billets and praised them as the cleanest and best organised in the Battalion.

This afternoon ammunition drill, &c., to smarten the men up. At 4-30 I mounted our guard. Each lot of billets has its own guard; and we mount them with all the pomp and ceremony a guard should have, so that our guard mounting is really as impressive as that at Buckingham Palace, and it keeps the men smart. Tea time, visitors from other companies; afterwards the others go shopping. I am cook and mess president of our little lot, and I give them a housekeeping list of what to purchase. Then having nothing else to do I sit down and write the largest and most drivelling letter I have ever written in my life, I call it No. 35. The next ought to be No. 135. Please tell me if it is too long. If it bores you, censor it and pass it on. I hope it does not; tell me if it does. Now:—

Cigarettes. Please give someone an order to send me 150 cigarettes a week. I will send you a cheque for them any time. They may be either Matinee, Abdulla No. 5 or No. 4. Sullivan, Savoy, Nestor, Pera, or any similar brand. They might send vain attempts, but please get them to send them regularly then and I will send a cheque. Letters will be very welcome. Please give my love to all, and thank May again for her cigarette case, it is awfully useful and much admired. Please ask her to excuse a letter. Give Amy my love and thank her for her letter I received a little time ago. Also, if you could let Auntie Effie see this bit, or tell her I will try and write, I should be very pleased. I am very happy, as you may gather, and it is the first real holiday I have had for 14 months. We have a theory out here similar to Miss —— to wit, that there is no war. We have come to the conclusion that the whole thing is engineered by Heath Robinson, Horatio Bottomley and the Archbishop of Canterbury. Heath Robinson because he thinks humour is decadent, Horatio