"One day a young Cockney in the line for the first time was walking along the trench with an older soldier, and turning a corner suddenly came on 'The Vicarage.' "'Gorblimey, Bill!' he said, 'who'd 'ave fought of seein' the b---- vicarage in the front line?'" "Immediately the cheery face of the padre popped out from behind the blanket covering the entrance and a voice in reply said: 'Yes! And who'd have thought of seeing the b---- vicar too?'" "That's the kind of chaplain," said the Bishop, "I'm trying to get them to send out to France."--_(Brig.-Gen.) R. J. Kentish, C.M.G., D.S.O., Shalford Park, Guildford._ A Thirst Worth Saving During the summer of 1917 our battalion--the 1/5th Buffs--formed part of General Thompson's flying column operating between the Tigris and the Shatt Al-'Adhaim. One morning we discovered that the native camel drivers had deserted to the enemy's lines, taking with them the camels that were carrying our water. No man had more than a small cup of water in his bottle yet we waited orders until dawn the next day, when a 'plane dropped a message for us to return to the Tigris. I shall not dwell on that 20-mile march back to the river over the burning sand--I cannot remember the last few miles of it myself. None of us could speak. Our lips and tongues were bursting. When we reached the Tigris we drank and drank again--then lay exhausted. The first man I heard speak was "Busty" Johnson, who, with great effort hoarsely muttered: "Lumme, if I can only keep this blinkin' first till I goes on furlough!"--_J. W. Harvey (late 1/5th Buffs, M.E.F.), 25 Queen's Avenue, Greenford Park, Middlesex._ Points of View On a wet and cold winter's night in the hills south of Nablus (Palestine) a sentry heard sounds as of slipping feet and strange guttural noises from the direction of the front line. He waited with his rifle at the port and then challenged: "Halt! who goes there?" A thin, dismal voice came from the darkness. "A pore miserable blighter with five ruddy camels." "Pass, miserable blighter, all's well," replied the sentry. Into the sentry's view came a rain-soaked disconsolate-looking Tommy "towing" five huge ration camels. "All's well, is it? Coo! Not 'arf!" said he.--_W. E. Bickmore (late "C" 303 Brigade, R.F.A., 60th Div.), 121 Gouville Road, Thornton Heath, Surrey._ Not the British Museum The Labyrinth Sector. Three of us--signallers--having just come off duty in the front line, were preparing to put in a few hours' sleep, when a voice came floating down the dug-out steps: "Is Corporal Stone down there?" Chorus: "No!" Ten minutes later came the same voice: "Is Sergeant Fossell down there?" "Go away," replied our Cockney; "this ain't the blinkin' British Museum!"--_G. J. Morrison (late 14th London Regt.), "Alness," Colborne Way, Worcester Park, Surrey._ Jerry Would Not Smile