It was now daybreak and quiet. I pulled him out of the hole and went and repaired the line. We got him away all right, but I never heard from him. I only hope he pulled through: he showed pluck.--_Signaller H. Jeffrey (late Royal Artillery), 13 Bright Road, Luton, Chatham, Kent._ Bluebottles and Wopses We had just gone into the front line. Two of us had not been there before. During a conversation with a Cockney comrade, an old hand, we told him of our dislike of bombs. He tried to re-assure us something like this: "Nah, don't let them worry you. You treat 'em just like blue-bottles, only different. With a blue-bottle you watch where it settles an' 'it it, but with bombs, you watch where they're goin' to settle and 'op it. It's quite simple." A short time after a small German bomb came over and knocked out our adviser. My friend and I picked him up and tried to help him. He was seriously hurt. As we lifted him up my friend said to him, "You didn't get your blue-bottle that time, did you?" He smiled back as he replied: "'Twasn't a blue-bottle, mate; must 'ave been a blinkin' wopse."--_C. Booth, 5 Creighton Road, N.W.6._ The Cheerful "Card" On that June morning in 1917 when Messines Ridge went up, a young chap was brought in to our A.D.S. in Woodcote Farm. A piece of shell had torn a great gap in each thigh. Whilst the sergeant was applying the iodine by means of a spray the M.O. asked, "How are things going this morning?" The lad was wearing a red heart as his battalion sign, and despite his great pain he answered: "O.K. sir. Hearts were trumps this morning."--_R. J. Graff, 3/5th L.F.A., 47th Division, 20 Lawrie Park Road, Sydenham._ Great Stuff This Shrapnel During the retreat from Mons it was the cavalry's work to hold up the Germans as long as possible, to allow our infantry to get in position. One day we had a good way to run to our horses, being closely pursued by the Germans. When we reached them we were all more or less out of breath. A little Cockney was so winded that he could hardly reach his stirrup, which kept slipping from under his foot. Just then a shrapnel shell burst directly overhead, and the Cockney, without using his stirrup, vaulted clean into the saddle. As we galloped off he gasped, "Blimey, don't they put new life in yer? They're as good as Kruschens."--_E. H. (late R.H.G.), 87 Alpha Road, Surbiton, Surrey._ Wot a War! Three of us were sitting on the high ground on the Gallipoli Beach watching shells dropping from the Turk positions. A "G.S." wagon was proceeding slowly along below us, the driver huddled in his coat, for the air was chill. Suddenly he jumped from the wagon and ran in our direction--he had heard the shell before we had. The next moment the wagon was proceeding skywards in many directions, and the horses were departing at top speed in different directions.