in extremely comfortable billets, and given all the luxuries one could possibly desire. I thought that once we left England we should have to say good-bye to comfort, but not a bit of it. I can say with perfect truth that nowhere in England were we half so comfortable, or did have half so easy a time as here. We sleep in absolute comfort and warmth, we are fed far better than in any hotel outside London, and we are given just enough exercise to keep us fit. Most people told us before we came out here that the billets were not at all comfortable, and we expected to be in any old cowshed. Our last billets were extremely comfortable and our new ones are equally so. Rotten billets are usually only given to troops who leave their billets untidy when they leave. Before we leave we are always very careful to leave ours clean and so we get good ones. Early this morning we moved our billets again and are now some 16 miles from the firing line. Continuing from where I left off in my last letter. Quite unexpectedly we had to move on Saturday night. Unfortunately practice night alarms have been very frequent lately, and so we were prepared to move quickly. Every other night last week, almost, we had practices. We were warned that we were to be ready to move on Saturday night any time after midnight, and, as a matter of fact, had two or three hours to get our things ready. We went to bed and got the word to move early this morning. We marched for about three hours and arrived here in comfort in the morning, and found we only had one very dirty and tumbledown farm for the company. Within about three hours we had cleared every barn of old straw, clothes, boots, tins, &c., put new straw in, and are now quite comfortable, the officers have a sort of sitting room again, with one bed in it, two on the bed, two on the mattress, and one on the floor, and I expect we shall be very comfortable. As we did not seem to have any food for the officers the farm people asked us if we would like some chickens. And we had soup, the typical French pot-au-feu, which they keep on the fire and put all scraps into it and which makes delicious soup, chickens, fruit salad, and cafe noire, which all French people know how to make. To-morrow we will spend in making the place like a palace. Don't send me any more cigarettes. The ones I have just received will come in very handy as I am short, but in future I can get them out here cheaper.

Much love to all, and especially to you, Mother dear.

From your loving Son,

ALEC.

11th Suffolks,

B.E.F., January 24th.

My darling Mother,—

To-day we were expecting to get up late, parade this morning 9-30, but, unfortunately, we were wakened at 7-0 o'clock and told to parade at 8-0 for inspection by our Corps Commander, and spent the whole morning standing still while we were inspected. It is extremely tiring to stand still for half an hour or more, more tiring than marching for hours. The rest of the day we spent cleaning up everything. Now we are sleeping in three different rooms. In here two sleep, and we all eat in another room, six feet by eight feet, three of us have our mattress on the floor and one more in a small room by himself. Most of the rooms lead out of the kitchen. In the kitchen most of the servants and a few other men hob-nob with Madame and her buxom daughter, who are Belgian refugees, and who are very agreeable and don't seem to mind us over-running the whole place, and soldiers coming in to their kitchen, where they live, in all stages of dishabile, to buy huge bowls of coffee at 1d. each. The General this morning was a cheery untidy old soul, who reviewed the troops in an old mackintosh and gum boots and a day's beard, or I should think the result of a bad razor. He addressed us afterwards in an oration full of split infinitives and mixed metaphors, welcoming us to France for a few month's holiday.

I perpetrated quite one of my best efforts to-night. I went into a shop, where I hoped to get potted meat, and asked for "pâté en bottine," which being interpreted is meat in boots, which was unfortunate. Parker then entered another shop and asked "Je desire un larabeau si vous l'avez," which means "I want a basin, if you have one." But, unfortunately, the good lady thought he meant not "si vous l'avez" if you have it, but "si you lavez" if you wash. I am afraid that No. 36 was delayed, and so it arrived at the same time as No. 37, I suppose. Read both very carefully together and you will perchance be interested. To-day I had an inspiration. We could not get anywhere for the men to bathe for the last week or two and this morning I was desperate. I believe a lot of the little friends which are said to dwell with the soldiers are due to troops in the same conditions not having an inspiration and so starting badly. The idea was almost too simple. I dug four holes in the ground and pegged a waterproof sheet in it, and got four dixifuls of hot water, so that each section of my platoon had a bath per platoon and water not quite cold. As there was a gentle zephyr wind blowing and a nice warm sun it was very pleasing. We have been having topping fine weather—hardly any rain so far.

Good-night, Mother,

From your loving Son,

ALEC.

11th Suffolks,

B.E.F.

My darling Mother,

I hope you got my last letters all right and understood them. Since writing them I have moved, but the battalion has not. Two of us and 71 men are on a course in trench mortars. We have moved some 12 miles further, and are, I think, about three miles from where Arthur was. We came right up here in 'busses, and arrived here no one seemed to know anything about us, so we had to forage round and get billets for our men and then for ourselves. When all was settled, an officer came and told us he had orders from his brigade to have these billets for a battalion just coming out of the trenches, so we started off again, and finally fixed the men up and in the end ourselves in an estaminet (whisper it softly—a pub.) in a wee room with one large bed. We both then slept on the bed and used the rest of the room for storing our clothes in. The men were roused up in the night by a false alarm from the trenches, but they did not disturb us. To-day we breakfasted at 9-0 and were lectured to in the morning and afternoon by an officer, who came out of the trenches yesterday afternoon. This evening we went to a fairly large town near here and had tea and dinner. At tea we found a large major leaving the cafe and vainly looking for his cap. At length he got the services of a waitress. "I've lost my cap" ("ton chapeau?") "Call it what you like as long as you find it." He was rather amusing. Dinner we had in the usual French cafe I have described before, and returned home to bed. The other man has gone to another estaminet and so I am sleeping alone. The house is on a slight rise, so from my window at night I can see a huge circle with lights going up every minute here and there—star shells, they quite light up the room, then flashes and a boom. They have just been quite bad tempered a few miles north of us and have been making a dickens of a row. I think it is a nuisance that ought to be stopped, it must be quite annoying to the people round. Now they are getting distinctly unfriendly to the south for a little. It looks like a fifth of November show, rather long drawn-out.

Please excuse this writing, as I am lying down in bed.

Good-night, little Mother,

Your loving Son,

ALEC.