Our stay at Estaires was short, and at 9.45 a.m. on the 27th we marched via St. Venant to Berguettes (where we had detrained on our first arrival three months previously), twelve miles distant, on the Nord Railway, and there entrained. The train consisted of the usual enormously long string of closed wagons “8 Chevaux 40 Hommes,” with here and there a dilapidated passenger coach. We passed westward through Hazebrouck and St. Omer, west into the night, and crept slowly over the flats, deeper and darker, until the twinkling lights of Calais, and the fresh fair faces of women, reminded us of home.

The first greys of morning were just showing through the trees when the sleepy-eyed Battalion, once freed from the choking confinement of the wagons, stretched its stiffening limbs and breathed a purer air. First impressions are as a rule deceptive, but our first impressions of the Somme, when we detrained that lovely morning at Mericourt-Ribemont, lingered for many a day as a sweet memory. The period that followed was one of inestimable preciousness to us. The free wholesomeness of the air, the fresh breezes that served but to stir the leaves and ruffle the pools, contrasted strangely with the clogging miasmas of Flanders. We felt ourselves excited with the discovery of a new world. The whole landscape to our appreciative eyes appeared to be lapped with a beauty as yet untarnished by the impurities of war. The skies were tricked out with a new colouring. In the north the dawn came up with splendours that were hidden from us. The mists blinded the sunrise in Flanders.

Lieut. Tillyard, who had motored south to arrange the billets, met us at the station with rosy accounts of our new area. His reception had been enthusiastic, if somewhat overshadowed by the superior attractions of the uniform of our Highland brethren of the Division, especially the kilt, which was a source of unending wonder to the local population.

We marched away from the leafy arches of Mericourt, that seemed to invite the tired traveller to revel in their coolness. New vistas opened out before us. On our right hand a sugar refinery shot its well-known ugly chimney into the skies. On our left hand a roadside shrine seemed to invite a moment’s meditation. But there, in front, joy to our hearts, lay the broad rolling uplands, topped with yellowing corn, that went before the breeze in glistening waves. There were a few early harvesters at work—old men with sunken cheeks and women with toiling hands, who paused for a moment to gaze at the novel sight of the British “Tommee” on the march.

A new wonder now brought amazement to our faces—those marvellous national highways that take no account of contours, but run, arrow straight, for miles. That on which we set foot at this time was known as the “Route Nationale No. 29 de Rouen.” From Amiens to Albert it ran with scarcely a single deflection. And, as was a feature common to all these national roads, magnificent trees bordered it from end to end. Even in the case of secondary roads attempts were made to utilise the waste lands contiguous. Apple and plum trees were growing by the roadside, their boughs bending with fast ripening fruit. These were all communally owned. France and Belgium are, verily, the high schools of thrift.

The Battalion went into billets at the quaint and attractive little village of Bouzincourt. It was not an elegant village. Its houses all looked jerry built; it adopted no particular plan. Bouzincourt was the communal centre of a large agricultural district. There were no outlying isolated farms. All were collected within the boundaries of the village, in order to secure mutual protection. Each house in the village had its barns and byres attached. One man was no richer than his neighbour, and there was no incitement to ambition. The men who remained, not subject to the military levies, were all old men. About the village the most distinguished person was the curé, whose air of aloofness and stern piety was spoiled by the fat and puffy appearance of his housekeeper, visibly addicted to snuff, so that all fine impressions vanished.

The Battalion was soon distributed round the village, the men in comfortable barns and the officers in the farm houses. Dinner had been prepared en route in the travelling kitchens, and was served immediately on settling down. Interest was languid and appetites mechanical, and, due to the incessant movement and cramped travelling of the past thirty-six hours, the troops sank into oblivion in this restful arcadia.

It is usually the unexpected that happens. Instead of going into the trenches straightaway day succeeded day in peaceful routine work, and this period of our history in France approximated more closely to a rest than any we had yet experienced. By this very immunity from trench cares we missed what must have been a most interesting experience—that of taking over trenches from the French army, who were now released for service elsewhere. This engaging duty fell to the 8th Liverpools, who took over the new sector on August 1st.

On August 3rd the commanding officer and two officers per company visited the trenches, which were to the east of Aveluy, a village three or four kilometres to the east of Bouzincourt, a direct road over a ridge connecting the two. This road, the top and eastern slope of which was in view of the enemy, was impracticable in daylight. A wide detour had therefore to be made via Engelbelmer and Albert. On approaching the latter place a first view was obtained of the damaged campanile of the church—the Eglise Notre Dame de Brebières—a pitiful sight and one to linger in the memory. The spectacle of the beautiful gilded statue of the Mother and Child hanging perilously head downward, through the vile attentions of the Hun, was moving in the extreme. There are some phases of this war to be dismissed with a smile, but wanton destruction such as this, the Cloth Hall at Ypres, Rheims Cathedral, and a hundred other tragic horrors of fallen stones, can evoke only tears. Nothing can atone for them, least of all German Kultur!

And so over the square, pitted with shell holes, out of the town again, three kilometres to the north, and under the light railway running to Guillemont and Combles, we come to Aveluy, a neat little village just behind the line. It has had its share of attention by the enemy, but is still inhabited by a section of the villagers. Down a declivity, at the bottom of which flow the waters of the Ancre—a considerable stream, limpid and pellucid, but suspect and taboo, as its head waters are in the German lines. Over the culvert and up the other side, past a roadside shrine, close to which are the ration and ammunition dumps, and, meeting more rising ground, we come to the entrance of the communication trench, which it was well to use.

The first effect of these remarkable trenches was speechless amazement. These were trenches such as we had never experienced hitherto. In the north we had been accustomed to sand-bagged breastworks; but here the trenches were deep and wound serpent-wise, in a fashion that left the stranger utterly bewildered. It was a labyrinthine system, constructed according to the suggestion of the natural contours, and not following any stereotyped plan, as at the Quinque Rue. On first acquaintance with these amazing passages it was impossible to move about with any assurance whatever. Not until a lengthy residence therein had made us familiar with the names could we walk about with a perfect sense of direction. The communication trenches crossed each other, doubled back, affected the most bizarre forms.

Our new trenches, designated “F.1” sub-sector, spread fanwise over a saddle of rising ground, disappearing on the northern extremity into Authuille Wood, which was of considerable size. The names of the trenches under their former French occupants had followed the system of perpetuating the memory of French heroes who had died for their country or otherwise rendered signal service. This system, admirable as it seems, was now being replaced by our own more practical method, and we found ourselves struggling from Post Donnet to Palatine, Fishergate, or John o’Gaunt Street. The Battalion frontage was extensive, approximating a mile in length. From its highest point, opposite Ovillers, a magnificent enfilading view disclosed the wreckage of La Boisselle, separated by a wicked little gut of very narrow width, known as Sausage Valley, from the divisional trenches further on our right, which were entrusted to our Highland comrades.

It was in these trenches that the French army had lived, relieved only at irregular intervals. In the parados men had dug holes, where, two by two, they slept like dogs in kennels, a curtain of rough sacking fixed by a rusty bayonet, serving as a protection from wind and rain and sun. Inside one eats, sleeps, sings, and sometimes dies. The shelters of the officers are a little larger, and the first-aid posts have the choice of security. Each company has its telephone and telegraph instruments. A liaison is established between all posts of command. Here men are reading, others are writing home those few words which mothers, wives and sweethearts alone cherish for their preciousness. There a stretcher-bearer is binding up a wound. By raising the head a strip of blue sky can be seen. Yes, the sky can be blue at the front, the flowers can bloom, and the birds can sing. Here and there was a piece of chalk carving in which the French “Tommies” were vastly skilled, or a welcoming banneret, such as “Pitou shakes hands with the British Tommy.”

By their very scope and efficiency these trenches required constant vigilance and attention to keep them in repair, and the Battalion now began to furnish the usual nightly working parties for this purpose. Otherwise life in Bouzincourt continued its pleasant and uneventful routine. The weather was beautiful and the inhabitants kind and hospitable to the best of their limited means. One of the families stands out as a pleasing memory. M. and Madame —— were the owners of a roomy house standing back from the village street, the front laid out as a garden, full of old-fashioned and sweet-smelling flowers, geraniums, roses, hollyhocks and pinks. Monsieur was a cultivateur and looked after the outlying fields. The son was at the front, as was the husband of the eldest of two daughters, Germaine and Suzanne. The interior of this delightful household was as homely and attractive as the exterior promised, and the family kindness itself. The Battalion staff were allotted this peer of billets, and afterwards the transport officer and the writer had the felicity to succeed and so speak with authority and conviction.

On the 7th August, at 9 p.m., the Battalion marched over the ridge by companies to take over trenches from the 8th Liverpools, and so remained without a break for three weeks—eloquent testimony to their habitableness. From the first things were comparatively quiet, and we had to contend with only spasmodic shelling. On the 10th “C” and “D” Companies, on the left, were bombarded during the morning. The bombardment was intermittent, but “D” Company had an unpleasant time from 12 noon to 12.30 and had one casualty. On the 14th some little shelling occurred, and Private Burton, of “B” Company, was killed. A new duty, and one which caused some swelling of pride, was now imposed on us. For some time the new units of “Kitchener’s Army” had been pouring into France, and very workmanlike they looked. Each night a company from the 6th Royal Berks, and later from the 8th Norfolks, arrived in our trenches for instruction and were relieved the following night by another company. A diversion of an even more pleasurable kind was to take possession of the Battalion from now onwards. We had been three months at the front, and thus qualified for the privilege of “seven days’ leave.” Parties were organised weekly and despatched on their way to England, to the good-natured envy of those left behind, who volunteered sound advice, which may, or may not, have been acted upon by the fortunate ones.

On the 16th our heavy artillery bombarded La Boisselle on the right, and the enemy replied later on our trenches. On the 17th there was shelling of our line, and Lance-Corporal Woodward, of “B” Company, was killed by a sniper, while on the 19th, after a very quiet morning, we exploded a mine at La Boisselle and put in some big shells later. The enemy retaliated with trench mortars and shrapnel and later his machine guns fired on the communication trench and the road to Aveluy, altogether rather a disturbed night. Private Robinson, of “C” Company, had his face grazed by a bullet. On the 21st the Battalion was relieved by the 8th Liverpool Irish and moved back to the support trench. The weather remained perfect, but the nights were cold. The companies held inspection of clothing and equipment and work was carried on with deepening two new communication trenches. On the 23rd five new officers joined the Battalion and were posted, Lieut. B. A. Leslie to “B,” Second-Lieut. H. H. Hodkinson to “A,” Second-Lieut. C. G. Chapman to “B,” Second-Lieut. G. J. Purnell to “C,” and Second-Lieut. E. D. M. Meyler to “D” Company.

On the 28th August the Battalion was relieved by the Loyals and 5th Lancashire Fusiliers, and at midnight marched into billets at Martinsart. The weather had changed, and the move took place in very heavy rain, over muddy roads. This would have been bearable if decent billets had been available on arrival, but, with the exception of La Gorgue, these were the dirtiest and most dilapidated billets we had encountered. The surroundings of this depressing village were a sea of mud, where the unfortunate transport animals were picketed standing fetlock deep. The Battalion was in Divisional Reserve, and there were also located here details of the 1st Indian Cavalry Division Headquarters. On the 29th the Commanding Officer reported at Headquarters, 51st Division, at Senlis (a notable feature of which place were the natural underground caverns) and also at Headquarters, Indian Cavalry Division. Working parties were furnished on the 30th and 31st for work on the roads at Bouzincourt, and in the trenches. Bombing instruction was going on apace and three officers and one hundred other ranks attended the Bombing School at Aveluy. Officers from each Company also reconnoitred routes to Authuille, a small village north-east of Martinsart. Time was spent on much-needed repairs to billets, the weather continuing bad, more heavy rain falling at this time. A few small shells were put into the village but no harm was done, but on the 4th September ten more were dropped and Private Drinkall, “C” Company, was wounded.

On this evening billets were handed over to the 5th Lancashire Fusiliers, and the Battalion moved off to the trenches in relief of three Companies of the 8th Liverpools in the old line, relief being completed by 9.15 p.m. The night was very quiet. At 8 p.m. on the 5th “B” Company sent out a reconnoitring patrol in front of the barbed wire, who returned safely with some useful information. Soon after midnight on the 8th an enemy patrol was captured. This patrol of one Officer and three men came in at one of the listening posts on the left of the sector. They came down the front of our wire and were watched by our listening post, consisting of Lance-Corporal H. Martin and Private J. Carrick, “D” Company, who waited until they were quite close and then challenged. The enemy patrol at once surrendered. This capture was excellently managed. The following night about a dozen small calibre shells were sent over and the enemy appeared to be trying to locate our listening post where the capture had been made. On the 12th Lance-Corporal Martin proceeded to Army Headquarters, where he was presented with the Distinguished Conduct Medal and promoted Corporal for his recent fine work. We were now negotiating the maze of trenches with more confidence, and even the communication trenches held no terrors for us. In traversing this trench at night from the line one would encounter a weird apparition approaching from the opposite end, and more by way of greeting than challenge, would call out, “Who are you?” and the reply, “O’ll tell thi who I am lad, O’m a walking dump!” was quickly confirmed when a shadow bearing a corrugated iron sheet, a roll of wire and a duck board brushed past to its destination in the front line. This gratifying intelligence genially imparted and duly assimilated, both went their ways ruminating on the queerness of things.

The trenches had been previously inspected by the 152nd Brigade, and on the 21st September we were relieved by the 5th Seaforth Highlanders. The Battalion moved into billets at Hénencourt, a rather longer march than we had had recently. We found the billets in fair order, but experienced some trouble with the Officers of an entrenching Battalion, which was eventually amicably settled. After this small contretemps, and after seeing to the needs of their men, some of the younger generation of our Officers started to forage for a meal for themselves and finally settled on the estaminet in the main street, “Au Petit Caporal,” as promising the best results—a prescient choice. Any visitor to this village is strongly advised to call and ask for mutton cutlets. They will delight his heart. Let him also ask for Epernay, for the cuvée is above reproach. The hospitable Picard family of this inn included a grandam, on whom the asperities of advancing age had not yet begun to make an impression. She sat in her corner chair like a queen, very calm and dignified. Her regal manners and pleasing countenance, combined with a natural affability, were touching and striking proofs of a well-ordered household. Madame prepared our cutlets, while Mademoiselle, whose unaffected simplicity and distinguished mien proclaimed her at once a charming kitchen-lieutenant, was pleased to serve us.

The time was now spent in the usual “rest” fashion, holding inspections, making up deficiencies in kit, parades (not forgetting pay parades), and route marching. On the 26th the Battalion quitted billets and marched from Hénencourt to Aveluy. This march was not very well carried out and caused some concern to the Adjutant. It had been evident for some time that the step of the men was losing some of its wonted fire, and this could confidently be ascribed to long periods in the trenches, where, although there was an abundance of manual labour to be done, pedal exercise was out of the question. We took over the support trenches from the 6th Seaforths, the weather being wet and much colder.

On October 1st, Brigadier-General Hibbert, commanding the 154th Brigade, received a bullet wound in the shoulder when visiting Poste Les Dos, and we were sorry to lose his guidance. One man of “B” Company was also wounded at this post. An order was received reminiscent of earlier days after mobilization, when the Battalion was decimated by similar orders, for fourteen N.C.O.’s and men to return to England for work in the Hodbarrow mines, but our trench stores were enriched by the addition of forty-eight knobkerries—a fearsome weapon. We were relieved in the trenches by the 5th Lancashire Fusiliers and 4th Loyals and went into billets at Aveluy. Second-Lieuts. Ward and Keller joined and were posted to “A” and “B” Companies, respectively. Working parties for the trenches were provided, as usual, but the men preferred being in the trenches to proceeding there daily for work. On the 7th, Brigadier-General Edwards took over command of the Brigade, an appointment which, to our untutored minds, appeared unusual, he being a Cavalry Officer. On the 8th we were inspected by Major-General Harper, 51st Divisional Commander, taking over trenches and stores from the outgoing Battalion in the evening. On this occasion these were not found satisfactory. They strove to impress upon us that these trenches were a paragon of comfort to what they themselves had taken over. It was always curious to note how invariably sceptical of improvements were any new comers. The qualities attributed to the “last lot in” were never very flattering, but on this occasion we felt, with reason, that we had not received a square deal and rebelled accordingly.

A period of comparative quiet followed our taking over. Patrols under Second-Lieut. Hodkinson reconnoitred the ground in front of Ovillers, and Private Walker, “C” Company, was slightly wounded. The Battalion now encountered a further piece of bad luck on the 13th, when the Commanding Officer, Lieut.-Colonel R. Thompson, was sent to the Field Ambulance, wounded by shrapnel when in the fire trench, and the command devolved on Major N. E. Barnes. Problems for the new C.O. were soon forthcoming when Captain Jackson, the Adjutant, was appointed to act as Brigade Major. This officer had done well in knitting the Battalion together on and after mobilization, and, although we felt his loss severely, everyone was pleased that his qualities had been suitably recognised. He was a fine athlete, and many times had the Battalion in difficulties trying to emulate his tireless pace at exercise. Captain Tillyard was appointed to succeed him.

The usual spasmodic shelling, rifle and machine gun fire was taking place in the trenches. On the 21st we were relieved by the 8th Liverpools, “A” and “D” Companies, and Battalion going to Lower Poste Donnet and “B” and “C” Headquarters to Poste Lesdos. The weather at this time was misty. On the 27th we were relieved by the Loyals and Lancashire Fusiliers, and went into billets in Aveluy. On the night of the 30th/31st the enemy fired about eighty howitzer and field gun shells into the village. The majority, fortunately, did not explode, and no billets were hit or damage done. Private J. Vincent, “C” Company, was killed, and Sergeant Wells, “D,” and Corporal Holmes, “A” Company, wounded on a night working party. On the 2nd November we relieved the 8th Liverpools in the trenches. We found these in a very bad state. A large part of the fire trench in “C” and “D” Companies section had fallen in. Rivington and John o’Gaunt Streets were nearly impassable. Immediate work on these was imperative. This was again an opportunity for “D” Company to show its mettle. Many times had these men from Millom, iron ore miners in peace time, wrought wonders with pick and shovel, to the amazement (and admiration) of their less skilled comrades. The trenches at Aveluy were but one more achievement to their credit.

The weather was now definitely bad, cold, wet and the wind north-east. It will be convenient here to refer to the “comforts” which, since mobilization, had been collected and sent out to us by private enterprise. These comforts consisted of many things, principally wool underwear, socks and mufflers and tobacco and cigarettes. The Battalion was extremely fortunate in its friends at home, and the severe weather which now overtook us tended to emphasise those feelings of gratitude which were present at all times. On the 7th we were relieved by the 6th Argyle and Sutherland Highlanders, and proceeded by Companies to Hénencourt, where new billets were taken over, the next two days being devoted to cleaning rifles and the more difficult task of cleaning clothing. This was saturated with the thick, glutinous mud of the trenches, and it was almost impossible to make any impression on the greatcoats.

On the 10th, Lieut.-Colonel F. M. Carleton, D.S.O., assumed command of the Battalion. He was an ex-regular Officer of the Regiment, who some years previously had served as Adjutant of the Battalion. In addition to the D.S.O., he wore the ribbons for the South and West African campaigns and the Nile Expedition 1897. Almost at once the Battalion began to feel the influence of a new personality. This influence had the quality of the east wind, and, with all its tonic properties, the Battalion felt impelled to brace itself unwontedly to meet its cutting edge. Our education was not yet complete. We continued in rest billets at Hénencourt until the 16th, when we marched to Authuille to relieve the 7th Gordons in “G.1” sub-sector. The transport moved to Martinsart.

This new area, just north of our previous line at Aveluy, had previously been reconnoitred by our Officers and was, therefore, more or less familiar. It was roughly the segment of a circle, of which the centre was the village of Authuille. The boundary radii were Campbell Avenue and Thiepval Avenue. The former followed the course of the road that inclined from Authuille to Ovillers. The other avenue led direct to Thiepval of evil fame, until the bulwark of our front line rudely cut it short at a point where a solitary telegraph pole shot up out of an immense wilderness of weeds. Within this circumscribed area were many once excellent trenches, but now in bad condition, and a few on which a malevolent influence seemed continually to rest. The shelters as they existed were designed to withstand only a moderate shelling, were in poor condition, but they fulfilled our modest expectations. All were accommodated in trenches or shelters, including Headquarters, except the latter’s Mess. Some inspired scout had discovered a disused and comfortable cellar in the village, and this provided an excellent mess room. It was a very quiet period.

On the 22nd we were relieved by the 4th Loyals and went into dugouts in Authuille. The chief desideratum was to keep warm, and the demands on the Quartermaster for coal, coke and charcoal for the braziers were peremptory. In the conveyance of these supplies the writer witnessed a small epic in transport. The route led from Martinsart, where Driver “Dorcas” Dixon harnessed his pair of mules to a limber and departed, loaded above the military Plimsoll line. These mules, the pride of their driver, were sleek creatures, slender-limbed and thin-flanked, with a gliding motion deceptive to the uninitiated. Skimming along with their 2½ ton burden all went well until, half-way through the Bois d’Aveluy, the worn track crossed a shallow depression filled with 18 inches of mud. The mules’ attempt to negotiate this was all but successful, but they came to a compulsory halt just short. No persuasion and certainly no violence would have stirred them. They had done their best and achieved a splendid failure.

From the 23rd to the 27th was a very quiet period. The usual working parties were furnished. A draft of forty-four men arrived, including some we had left behind in England. Lieut. Brocklebank rejoined after undergoing instruction in Adjutant’s duties with the 1st Cheshire Regiment. On the 28th we were relieved by the 5th Seaforths and returned to billets in Hénencourt. We had suffered only one casualty, but we here lost the further services of Major Rutherford, the Medical Officer, who was incapacitated by the recent rigours of trench life and was now transferred for duty with the Divisional Field Ambulance. His place was taken temporarily by Captain Titmas, R.A.M.C.

Until the 5th December we followed the usual “rest” routine in these well-tried billets. Much time was spent in removing mud from equipment and clothing. This tenacious element, matter in the wrong place, added considerably to the difficulties of marching. On this day we marched back to trenches and relieved a unit of the 153rd Brigade on the left of “F.1” sector at Aveluy. Three Companies were in the firing line and one in support. The front line was divided into three groups, the spaces in between being impassable owing to mud. The trench in the middle of the salient was badly smashed up by a bombardment a few days previously. Battalion Headquarters were at Lower Donnet. The three Companies in the front line were relieved the following day by two Companies (overstrength) of the 17th Highland Light Infantry, the relieved Companies going into billets in Aveluy. Captain J. Caddy and Lieut. J. A. T. Clarke joined from the third line unit. Captain Caddy had served as Staff Captain of our Brigade until invalided some few months previously and now rejoined for duty. He was succeeded as Staff Captain by Captain J. Fisher. Some shells fell on Aveluy on and around the railway bridge, and one man was wounded.

On the 11th we relieved the 17th Highland Light Infantry in the trenches, where conditions were now exceedingly bad, especially for “A” and “C” Companies. Mud was over the knees in most places. Things were very quiet, accounted for by the fact that the enemy’s trenches were in a similar predicament to our own, as reported by one of our reconnoitring patrols under Lance-Corporal Bates. The time was occupied in attempting to clean the trench, and cases of trench feet began to occur through constant standing in the wet.

Captain J. V. Barrow and Lieut. A. Beardsley were here ordered to proceed to England to report to the War Office and left the Battalion, much to our regret. On the 16th we were relieved and marched back to billets in Hénencourt. Here the usual peaceful routine was shattered by a tragedy. Second-Lieut. Ward, whilst demonstrating to a class of beginners in the use of Hand Grenade No. 1, accidentally exploded the bomb, with the result that he was badly wounded and died almost immediately afterwards. One man was killed and thirteen others wounded. Needless to say this event cast a gloom over the remainder of our stay in billets.

Lieut. J. H. C. Gatchell, R.A.M.C., was appointed Medical Officer of the unit in place of Captain Titmas, and forty reinforcements arrived. On the 21st we relieved the 6th Black Watch in Authuille village, with “C” Company in Mound Keep, the time being devoted to cleaning shelters and putting up wire beds. The enemy put over thirty-two shells in the vicinity of Mound Keep, which seemed to be intended for MacMahon’s Blockhouse. No shell hit the building and no casualties or damage was done. We marked Christmas Day by moving into the front line in relief of the 4th Loyals, and the Germans shelled Martinsart and killed one of our mules. We were thankful to find the trenches comparatively dry, and after being worked at, habitable. We here lost Major R. P. Little, who was sent to hospital and thence to England, sick. Lieut. E. Spearing had the bad luck to get in the way of a rifle grenade, which he received in the shoulder, and went to the Field Ambulance, wounded. Second-Lieut. Leslie Bowman joined the Battalion from the third line unit. The trenches were fairly quiet, trench mortars being the chief offenders. Several dud “oil cans” were sent over by “Fritz.” Evidence had been accumulating for some time that moves on an unusual scale were being contemplated. This evidence was confirmed when the Brigade was relieved on the 2nd January by the 96th Infantry Brigade, and we marched into billets once more at Hénencourt.