"Blimey," he replied, apparently fed-up with the constant repetition of the same question, "wot 'ave you blokes got on to-night---a blinkin' piper-chise?"--_W. H. Blakeman (late Sergt., Queen's R.W.S. Regt.), 22 Shorts Road, Carshalton._ Biscuits--Another Point of View In April 1915 my battalion was on the way up to take over a line of "grouse-butts"--there were no continuous trenches--in front of a pleasure resort by the name of Festubert. Arrived at Gore, a couple of miles or so from the line, we ran into some transport that had got thoroughly tied up, and had a wait of about half-an-hour while the joy-riders sorted themselves out. It was pitch dark and raining hard, and the occasional spot of confetti that came over added very little to the general enjoyment. As I moved up and down my platoon, the usual profane but humorous grousing was in full spate. At that time the ration arrangements were not so well organised as they afterwards became, and for some weeks the bulk of our banquets had consisted of bully and remarkably hard and unpalatable biscuits. The latter were a particularly sore point with the troops. As I listened, one rifleman held forth on the subject. "No blinkin' bread for five blinkin' weeks," he wound up--"nothin' but blinkin' biscuits that taste like sawdust an' break every tooth in yer perishin' 'ed. 'Ow the 'ell do they expect yer to fight on stuff like that?" "Whatcher grousin' about?" drawled another weary voice. "Dawgs _lives_ on biscuits, and they can fight like 'ell!"--_S. B. Skevington (late Major, 1st London Irish Rifles), 10 Berkeley Street, W.1._ His Bird Bath A battalion of the Royal Fusiliers (City of London Regiment) was in support, and a private was endeavouring to wash himself as thoroughly as possible with about a pint of water in a mess-tin. A kindly disposed staff officer happened to come along, and seeing the man thus engaged, said, "Having a wash, my man?" [Illustration: "Wish I was a blinkin' canary: I could have a bath then."] Back came the reply, "Yus, and I wish I was a blinkin' canary. Could have a bath then."--_R. G. Scarborough, 89 Tennyson Avenue, New Maiden, Surrey._ Ducking 'em---then Nursing 'em After the Cambrai affair of November 1917 our company came out of the line, but we had to salvage some very large and heavy shells. We had been carrying the shells in our arms for about an hour when I heard a fed-up Cockney turn to the sergeant and say: "'Ere 'ave I been duckin' me nut for years from these blinkin' fings---blimey, and nah I'm nursin' 'em!"---_Rfn. Elliott (late 17th K.R.R.C.), 9 Leghorn Road, Harlesden, N.W._ Salonika Rhapsody Three of us were sitting by the support line on the Salonika front, conditions were fairly bad, rations were short and a mail was long overdue. We were fed-up. But the view across the Vardar Valley was some compensation.