Well, we found ourselves one day in the front line and Jerry had started an attack. Ginger was No. 1 on the gun and I was lying beside him as No. 2. We were giving Jerry beans with our gun when a bomb hit it direct and blew Ginger and myself yards away. Ginger had his hand blown off, but crawled back to the gun, which was smashed to pieces. He gave one look at it and shouted to me: "Nah go and ask that blinkin' sergeant what number stoppage he calls this one!" Next thing he fainted.--_Edward Newson (late 1st West Surrey), 61 Moneyer Street, Hoxton, N.1._ A Careless Fellow An officer with our lot was a regular dare-devil. He always boasted that the German bullet had not yet been made which could find him. One day, regardless of his own safety, he was on the parapet, and though many shots came over he seemed to bear a charmed life. One of the men happened to put his head just out of the trench when a bullet immediately struck his "tin hat" sending him backwards into the trench. The officer, from the parapet, looked down and said, "You _are_ a fool, I told you not to show yourself."--_A. Smith (Cameronians), 40 Whitechapel Road, E.1._ Standing Up to the Turk In the second attempt to capture Gaza we were making our advance in face of heavy machine-gun fire. In covering the ground we crouched as much as possible, the Turks directed their fire accordingly, and casualties were numerous, so our Cockney humorist shouted: "Stand up, boys. It's best to be hit in yer props (legs) than in yer blinkin' office (head)."--_W. Reed (late 7th Battn., Essex Regiment), 3 Shenfield Road, Woodford Green, Essex._ Lodging with the Bombs I was driving a lorry along the road from Dickebusch to Ypres when the Germans started shelling with shrapnel and high explosive. By the side of the road was a cottage, partly ruined, with the window-space boarded up: and, with some idea of seeking protection from the flying fragments, I leaned up against one of the walls. I hadn't been there long when a face appeared at a gap in the boards, and a voice said: "Do yer fink y're safe there, mate, cos we're chock full o' bombs in 'ere."--_Edward Tracey, c/o Cowley Cottage, Cowley, Middlesex._ In Fine Feather While on the Somme in 1916 my battery was sent to rest in a village behind the line. The billet allotted to us had been an hotel, and all the furniture, including bedsteads and feather mattresses, had been stored in the room which did duty as an orderly room. Returning one day from exercise, we saw a flight of enemy 'planes coming over, and as we approached the billet a bomb was dropped straight through the roof of our building, the sole occupant of which at the time was a Cockney signaller on duty, in touch with Brigade Headquarters. [Illustration: "They must 'ave 'it a blinkin' sparrer."]