I met him coming from the front line, one of "London's Own." He was taking back the most miserable and sullen-looking prisoner I have ever seen. "Got a light, Jock?" he asked me. I obliged. "'Ave a Ruby Queen, matey?" I accepted. "Cheerful-looking customer you've got there, Fusie," I ventured, pointing to his prisoner. [Illustration: "... and if that don't make a bloke laugh, well, it's 'opeless."] He looked up in disgust. "Cheerful? Lummie, he gives me the creeps. I've orfered 'im a fag, and played 'Katie' and 'When this luvly war is over' on me old mouf orgin for him, but not a bloomin' smile. An' I've shown him me souvenirs and a photograph of me old woman, and, blimey, if that don't make a bloke laugh, well, it's 'opeless!" And then, with a cheery "Mercy bokoo, matey," and a "Come on, 'Appy," to his charge, he pushed on.--_Charles Sumner (late London Scottish), Butler's Cottage, Sutton Lane, Heston, Middlesex._ "Birdie" Had to Smile While I was serving with the Australians at Gallipoli in 1915 I was detailed to take charge of a fatigue party to carry water from the beach to the front line, a distance of about a mile. Our way lay over rather dangerous and extremely hilly country. The weather was very hot. Each man in the party had to carry four petrol tins of water. While trudging along a narrow communication trench we were confronted by General Birdwood and his A.D.C. As was the general's cheery way, he stopped, and to the man in front (one "Stumpy" Stewart, a Cockney who had been in Australia for some time) he remarked, "Well, my man, how do you like this place?" "Stumpy" shot a quick glance at the general and then blurted out, "Well, sir, 't'aint the sort of plice you'd bring your Jane to, is it?" I can see "Birdie's" smile now.--_C. Barrett (Lieut., Aust. Flying Corps, then 6th Aust. Light Horse), Charing Cross, W.C._ Their Very Own Secret We were on a forced march to a sector on Vimy Ridge. It was a wicked night--rain and thick fog--and during a halt several of our men got lost. I was ordered to round them up, but I also got hopelessly lost. I had been wandering about for some time when I came across one of our men--a young fellow from the Borough. We had both lost direction and could do nothing but wait. At last dawn broke and the fog lifted. We had not the slightest idea where we were, so I told my friend to reconnoitre a hill on the right and report to me if he saw anyone moving, while I did the same on the left. After a while I heard a cautious shout, and my companion came running towards me, breathless with excitement, and in great delight gasped, "Sergeant, sergeant! Germans! Germans! Fousands of 'em--and there's nobody but you and me knows anyfing abaht it!"--_G. Lidsell (late Devon Regt.), Brixton, S.W.9._ Window Cleaners Coming! We were passing through Ypres, in 1915, in a Wolseley Signals tender when we came upon a battalion of the Middlesex on their way out to rest, very tired and very dirty.