The O.C. wanted a trumpeter or bugler to follow him around during the daily lifeboat parade and to sound the "Dismiss" at the end. The only one available was an Indian trumpeter, who had not blown a trumpet or bugle since 1914. He was ordered for the duty. On the first day, immediately after the inspection was over, the O.C. gave orders for the trumpeter to sound the "Dismiss." After the trumpeter had finished, the O.C., with a look of astonishment on his face, gasped, "What's that? I never heard it sounded like that before." Came a Cockney voice from the rear rank, "'E sounded it in 'Indoostanee, sir."--_M. C., Surrey._ "For 'eaven's sake, stop sniffin'!" Our sector of the line at Loos was anticipating a raid by the Germans and the whole battalion was ordered to "stand to" all night. Double sentries were posted at intervals of a few feet with orders to report any suspicious shadows in No Man's Land. All eyes and ears were strained in an effort to locate any movement in the darkness beyond the parapet. Strict silence was to be maintained, and the guns had been ordered to hang fire so that we might give the Germans a surprise welcome if they came over. The ominous stillness was broken at last by a young Cockney saying to his pal standing with him on the fire-step: "For 'Eaven's sake, stop sniffin', Porky. How d'yer fink we'll 'ear Jerry if he comes acrorst?"--_C. J. Blake, 29a Collingbourne Road, Shepherd's Bush, W.12._ Babes in the Salonika Wood I was with the Salonika Force on the Dorian front. One night while an important raid was on my platoon was told off to seize a big wood between the lines and make sure it was clear of Bulgars, who could otherwise have enfiladed the main raiding party. The orders were "absolute silence, and no firing unless the other side fires first." I halted my men behind a fold in the ground near the wood and called up two men and told them to creep forward and see if the wood was occupied. It was nasty work as the first news of any Bulgars would almost certainly have been a bayonet in the back from somebody perfectly concealed behind a tree. I asked them if the instructions were quite clear and one of them, Charlie, from Limehouse, whispered back: "Yessir! We're going to be the Babes in the Wood, and if the Wicked Uncles is out to-night we don't fire unless they fires first. Come on, George (to his companion), there's going to be some dirty work for the Little Robin Redbreasts to-morrer!"--_A. Forsyth (late Army Cyclist Corps), 65 St. Martin's Lane, W.C.2._ Bringing it Home to Him For several months in 1917 matches were rationed in a Y.M.C.A. rest-camp canteen, somewhere in France. There entered during this time a war-worn Cockney, a drawn, tired look still in his eyes, and the mud of the trenches on his uniform and boots. He asked for cigarettes and matches, and was told there were no matches. "Wot, no matches? 'Ow am I goin' ter light me fags, miss?"