Imagine our surprise when, after all was quiet again, we heard the same noise in the wire. One of the sentries was a Cockney, and without a word he crawled over the parapet and disappeared in the direction of the noise. A few minutes later came the sound of smothered laughter, and the sentry returned with a hedgehog firmly fixed in an empty bully tin. It was the cause of our alarm! After releasing the animal from its predicament, the sentry said: "We'd better send the blighter to the Zoo, Corp, wiv a card to say 'this little pig put the wind up the troops, caused a fousand men to open fire, was bombed, machine-gunned, and shelled.' Blimey! I'd like to see the Gunner officer's face if he knew this."--_D. R. Payne, M.M. (ex-Worcester Regt.), 40 High Street, Overton, Hants._ Straight from the Heart Under canvas at Rousseauville with 27th Squadron, R.F.C., early 1918--wet season--raining hard--everything wet through and muddy--a "fed-up" gloomy feeling everywhere. We were trying to start a 3-ton lorry that was stuck in the mud on the aerodrome. After we had all had a shot at swinging the starting handle, the very Cockney driver of the lorry completely exhausted himself in yet another unsuccessful attempt to start up. Then, leaning against the radiator and pushing his cap back, he puffed out: "I dunno! These perishin' lorries are enough to take all the flamin' romance out of any blinkin' camp!"--_R. S. W. (Flying-Officer, R.A.F. Reserve), 52 Cavendish Road, N.W.6._ Smile! Smile! SMILE!! Conversation between two Cockney members of a North Country regiment whilst proceeding along the Menin road in March 1918 as members of a wiring party: 1st: I'm fed up with this stunt. 2nd: Same 'ere. 'Tain't 'arf a life, ain't it? No rest, no beer, blinkin' leave stopped--er, got any fags? 1st: No, mate. 2nd: No fags, no nuffink. It's only us keepin' so ruddy cheerful as pulls us through.--_V. Marston, 232 Worple Road, Wimbledon, S.W.20._ War's Lost Charm Time, winter of 1917: scene, a track towards Langemarck from Pilkem. Weather and general conditions--Flanders at its worst. My companion that night was an N.C.O. "out since 'fourteen," and we had plodded on in silence for some time. Suddenly behind me there was a slither, a splash, and a smothered remark as the sergeant skidded from the duckboard into an especially dirty shell hole. I helped him out and asked if he was all right. The reply came, "I'm all right, sir; but this blinkin' war seems to have lost its charm!"--_J. E. A. Whitman (Captain, late R.F.A.), The Hampden Club, N.W.1._ Taking It Lying Down The 1st Battalion of the 25th Londons was preparing to march into Waziristan. Old Bert, the cook, diligently loading up a kneeling camel with dixies, pots and pans, and general cooking utensils, paused for a bit, wiped the sweat from his brow, and stood back with arms akimbo gazing with satisfaction upon his work.