"What's happened, Webb?" I said. "Blimey! What's happened?" was the reply. "One over--two bowled" (and, looking down at his leg)--"and I'm stumped." Then he fainted.--_George Franks, M.C. (late Lieut., Royal Artillery), Ilford, Essex._ M'Lord, of Hoxton We called him "M'lord." He came from Hoxton--"That's where they make 'em," he used to say. He was a great asset to us, owing to the wonderful way in which he went out and "won" things. One night, near Amiens, in 1916, "M'lord" said, "I'm going aht to see wot some uvver mob has got too much of." One or two of us offered to accompany him, but he refused, saying, "You bloomin' elephants 'ud be bahnd to give the gime away." About three hours later, when we were beginning to get anxious, we saw him staggering in with a badly wounded German, who was smoking a cigarette. Seeing us, and very much afraid of being thought soft-hearted, "M'lord" plumped old Fritz down on the fire-step and said very fiercely, "Don't you dare lean on me wif impunity, or wif a fag in your mouf." Jerry told us later that he had lain badly wounded in a deserted farmhouse for over two days, and "M'lord" had almost carried him for over a mile. "M'lord" was killed later on in the war. Our battalion was the 7th Batt. Royal Fusiliers (London Regt.)--_W. A., Windsor._ The Tall Man's War In our platoon was a very tall chap who was always causing us great amusement because of his height. Naturally he showed his head above the parapet more often than the rest of us, and whenever he did so _ping_ would come a bullet from a sniper and down our tall chum would drop in an indescribably funny acrobatic fashion. The climax came at Delville Wood in August 1916, when, taking over the line, we found the trench knocked about in a way that made it most uncomfortable for all of us. Here our tall friend had to resort to his acrobatics more than ever: at times he would crawl on all fours to "dodge 'em." One shot, however, caused him to dive down more quickly than usual--right into a sump hole in the trench. Recovering himself, he turned to us and, with an expression of unutterable disgust, exclaimed, "You blokes can laugh; anybody 'ud fink I was the only blighter in this war."--_C. Bragg (late Rifle Brigade, 14th Division), 61 Hinton Road, Herne Hill, S.E.24._ Germany Didn't Know This One night in June 1916, on the Somme, we were ordered to leave our line and go over and dig an advance trench. We returned to our trench before dawn, and shortly afterwards my chum, "Pussy" Harris, said to me, "I have left my rifle in No Man's Land." "Never mind," I said, "there are plenty more. Don't go over there: the snipers are sure to get you." But my advice was all in vain; he insisted on going. When I asked him why he wanted that particular rifle he said, "Well, the barrel is bent, _and it can shoot round corners_." He went over....