"Well, I don't know fer sure," he says as he dives his hand through his tunic to his chest and holds on to me with the other. I had a soft place in my heart for Jack, for nobody ever sent him a parcel, so what was mine was Jack's. But not the piece of shrapnel that came out when he withdrew his hand from inside his tunic! "The only thing that ever I had sent me--and that from Jerry!" says Jack. "We was always taught to love our enemies!" They sure loved us, for shortly after I received my little gift of love, which put me to by-by for several months. But that Cockney lad from East London never grumbled at his hard lot. He looked at me, his corporal, and no wonder he clung round my neck, for he has told me since the war that he was only sixteen then. A brave lad!--_D. C. Maskell (late 20th Battn. Middlesex Regt.), 25 Lindley Road, Leyton, E.10_. Goalie Lets One Through In September 1916 we landed in a portion of German trench and I was given orders to hang on. Shells were bursting all around us, so we decided to have a smoke. My two Cockney pals--Nobby and Harry, who were a goalie and centre-forward respectively--were noted for their zeal in keeping us alive. Nobby was eager to see what was going on over the top, so he had a peep--and for his pains got shot through the ear. He fell back in a heap and exclaimed, "Well saved, goalie! Couldn't been better if I'd tried." "Garn," said Harry, bending over him, "it's blinkin' well gorn right frew, mate."--_Patrick Beckwith, 5 Duke Road, Chiswick, W.4._ A Good Samaritan Foiled I was rather badly wounded near Bullecourt, on the Arras front, and was lying on a stretcher outside the dressing station. Nearby stood a burly Cockney with one arm heavily bandaged. In the other hand he held his ration of hot coffee. Noticing my distress, he offered me his drink, saying, "'Ere y'are, mate, 'ave a swig at this." One of the stretcher-bearers cried: "Take that away! He mustn't have it!" The Cockney slunk off. "All right, ugly," he said. "Take the food aht of a poor bloke's mouf, would yer?" Afterwards I learned the stretcher-bearer, by his action, had saved my life. Still, I shan't forget my Cockney friend's generosity.--_A. P. S. (late 5th London Regiment), Ilford._ Proof of Marksmanship Poperinghe: a pitch-black night. We were resting when a party of the West Indian Labour Company came marching past. Jerry sent one over. Luckily, only one of the party was hit. A voice from the darkness: "Alf! keep low, mate. Jerry 'as got his eye in--'e's 'it a nigger in the dark!"--_C. Jakeman (late 4/4th City of London Royal Fusiliers), 5 Hembridge Place, St. John's Wood, N.W.8._ "Well, He Ain't Done In, See!"