Back came the reply: "You get on wiv the blinkin' war. I've fahnd the Channel Tunnel and am going 'ome." I may say it took us six hours to get him out.--_H. F. B. (late 7th Batt. Middlesex Regt.), London, N.W.2._ A Job for Samson During Allenby's big push in Palestine the men were on a forced night march, and were tired out and fed up. An officer was trying to buck some of them up by talking of the British successes in France and also of the places of interest they would see farther up in Palestine. He was telling them that they were now crossing the Plains of Hebron where Samson carried the gates of Gaza, when a deep Cockney voice rang out from the ranks, "What a pity that bloke ain't 'ere to carry this pack of mine!"--_C. W. Blowers, 25 Little Roke Avenue, Kenley, Surrey._ Jerry Wins a Bet In the Salient, 1916: Alf, who owned a Crown and Anchor board of great antiquity, had it spread out on two petrol cans at the bottom of a shell-hole. Around it four of us squatted and began to deposit thereon our dirty half and one franc notes, with occasional coins of lesser value. The constant whistle of passing fragments was punctuated by the voice of Alf calling upon the company to "'ave a bit on the 'eart" or alternately "to 'ave a dig in the grave" when a spent bullet crashed on his tin hat and fell with a thud into the crown square. "'Struth," gasped Alf, "old squarehead wants to back the sergeant-major." He gave a final shake to the cup and exposed the dice--one heart and two crowns. "Blimey," exclaimed Alf, "would yer blinkin' well believe it? Jerry's backed a winner. 'Arf a mo," and picking up the spent bullet he threw it with all his might towards the German lines, exclaiming, "'Ere's yer blinking bet back, Jerry, and 'ere's yer winnings." He cautiously fired two rounds.--_G. S. Raby (ex-2nd K.R.R.C.), Shoeburyness, Essex._ Lucky he was Born British Many ex-soldiers must remember the famous Major Campbell, who (supported by the late Jimmy Driscoll), toured behind the lines in France giving realistic demonstrations of bayonet fighting. I was a spectator on one occasion when the Major was demonstrating "defence with the naked hands." "Now," he shouted as Jimmy Driscoll (who acted the German) rushed upon him with rifle and bayonet pointed for a thrust, "I side-step" (grasping his rifle at butt and upper band simultaneously); "I twist it to the horizontal and fetch my knee up into the pit of his stomach, so! And then, as his head comes down, I release my right hand, point my fore and third fingers, so! and stab at his eyes." "Lor'!" gasped a little Cockney platoon chum squatting beside me, "did yer see that lot? Wot a nice kind of bloke he is! Wot a blinkin' stroke of luck he was born on our side!"--_S. J. Wilson (late 1/20th County London Regt.), 27 Cressingham Road, Lewisham._ You Never Can Tell