I had a few bad scares and felt as big as a ten story building whenever I was in the open. Got a nice little jagged piece of shrapnel shell through my overcoat , while asleep one night. That was the queer thing! How soon one gets used to the infernal racket and could sleep through the worst of it. We got "dug in" at 2 a. m., the first night and movements generally happened at uncanny hours of the night, so that although we had not blankets we could fall asleep out of pure exhaustion any old time. The worst of the whole business was, we had to take it all and never got a shot back, except at an enemy aeroplane. The front trenches get the rifle fire, but the back lines receive most attention from the shrapnel. One night the Germans used that hellish gas on the line ahead. It lay like a thick, greenish yellow fog bank. Our men had to clear out but the Germans never struck home. Our shrapnel was bursting beautifully in a long line ahead. We got a pretty touch march back, when relieved, through the mud and over the infernal cobble stone roads, in dead of night, or course. I was so tired that I fell asleep instantly in the muddy road every halt. We carry no light load, 200 rounds of ball cartridges, for one thing, and then valise, haversack, entrenching tool, spare clothes, etc., about 65 pounds in all. Some of the straggles from that march didn't get in for two days. For ten days fifty of us have been billetted at a French far, recuperating. We sleep