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falling sandbags. It was the most exciting day round there for weeks. Poor Herbie Boggs was killed just behind us, in fact they did not miss three of us by very much, in the same place, right before. After we learnt the ropes, we marched back in to France, and billeted for the night, then went into our permanent trenches the next night. Our trenches are rotten, just slimy mus and water, and far from being bullet proof. There we stayed for three days, and were bored stiff. Last night we were relieved, and came to our permanent billets, which are good. The Germans are three hundred and fifty yards away, but they can shoot just as well as at the other place. Nothing much happened there, except the everlasting sniping, and I think we fixed some of them. The trouble is getting water, and fuel for our braziers. We have about two months work ahead of us, fixing up our happy home. All the billets round here are in barns, usually brick ranged in a square round a court yard, which is full of ancient manure. They are covered with "Crums", so you can imagine the state we are in. Last night I got off my shirt for the first time since I left England, and organized a search party, with great success. Tomorrow we get a bath, and the thought overwhelms me. I am having a lot of