We were billeted in the vaults of Ypres Post Office. Towards dusk of a summer's day in 1916 four of us were lounging at the top of the vault stairs, discussing the noise made by different shells. Jerry, a Cockney, was saying, "Yes, yer can always tell big 'uns--they shuffles," and went on to demonstrate with _Shsh-shsh-shsh_, when someone said "Listen!" There was the real sound, and coming straight for us. We dived or fell to the bottom of the stairs. Followed a terrific "crump" right in the entrance, which was completely blocked up. Every candle and lamp was blown out; we were choking with dust and showered with bricks and masonry. There was a short silence, and Jerry's voice from the darkness said, "There y'are; wot did I tell yer?"--_H. W. Lake, London._ A Camel "on the Waggon" During the battle of Gaza in April 1917 camels were used for the conveyance of wounded. Each camel carried a stretcher on either side of its hump. Travelling in this manner was something akin to a rough Channel crossing. [Illustration: "I believe he was drunk before we set eyes on him."] I was wounded in the leg. My companion was severely wounded in both legs. Some very uncomplimentary remarks were passed between us concerning camels, particularly the one which was carrying us. When we arrived at a field dressing-station a sergeant of the R.A.M.C. came along with liquid refreshments. "Sergeant," said my chum, "if you give this bloke (indicating the camel) anything to drink I'm going to walk, 'cos I believe the blighter was drunk before we ever set eyes on him."--_Albert J. Fairall, 43 Melbourne Road, Leyton, E.10._ Parting Presents It was on Passchendaele Ridge in 1917. Jerry had been giving us a hot time with his heavies. Just before daybreak our telephone line went west and we could not get through to our O.P. I was detailed to go out and repair the line with a young Cockney from Hackney. He had only been with us a few days and it was his first time up the line. We had mended one break when shells dropped all round us. When I got to my feet, I saw my pal lying several feet away. I escaped with a few splinters and shock. I dragged my chum to a shell-hole which was full of water and found he was badly hit about the shoulder, chest, and leg. I dressed him as best I possibly could, when, _bang_, a shell seemed to drop right on us and something came hurtling into our hole with a splash. It turned out to be a duckboard. I propped my chum against it to stop him slipping back into the water. After a few minutes he opened his eyes, and though in terrible pain, smiled and said, "Lummy, Jeff, old Jerry ain't so bad, after all. He has given me a nice souvenir to take to Blighty and now he has sent me a raft to cross the Pond on." Then he became unconscious.