The entertainment began stiffly. We were not accustomed to entertainments and felt that we ought to behave with propriety. We clapped at the end of each song, but we displayed no enthusiasm. I began to fear for our success. But our lady--she did the whole thing herself--conquered us. We were laughing and cheering in half an hour. In the end we rocked in our seats and howled tumultuously when the sergeant-major, a portly man of great dignity, was dragged over the footlights. Our lady pirouetted across the stage and back again, her arm round the sergeant-major's waist, her cheek on his shoulder, singing, "If I were the only girl in the world and you were the only boy." We believed in doing what we could for those who came to entertain us. When we secured the services of a "Lena Ashwell" Concert Party we painted a large sign and hung it up in front of the stage: "Welcome to the Concert Party." We forgot the second "e" in Welcome and it had to be crammed in at the last moment above the "m" with a "^" underneath it. We made two dressing-rooms, one for ladies and one for gentlemen. The fittings were the same--brown soap, cold water, shaving mirror, tumbler and siphon. But in the gentlemen's room we put whisky, in the ladies' port. The whole party had tea afterwards in the sergeants' mess--strong tea and tinned tongue. A corporal stood at the door as we left holding a tray covered with cigarettes. I learned to play cribbage while I was in that camp. I was pitted, by common consent, against an expert, a man who had been wounded at Le Cateau and had his teeth knocked out as he lay on the ground by a passing German, who used the butt of his rifle. Round me were a dozen men, who gave me advice and explained in whispers the finesse of the game. It was hot work, for the men sat close and we all smoked. I also learned that the British soldier, when he gives his mind to it, plays a masterly game of draughts. There was a man--in civil life he sailed a Thames barge--who insulted me deeply over draughts. He used to allow me to win one game in three, and he managed so well that it was weeks before I found out what he was doing. We had whist drives, and once a billiard tournament, run on what I believe is a novel principle. We had only one table, half sized and very dilapidated. We had about thirty entries. We gave each player five minutes and let him score as much as he could in the time, no opponent interfering with him. The highest score took the prize. But all entertainments and games in that camp were liable to untimely interruption. Messages used to come through from some remote authority demanding stretcher-bearers. Then, though it were in the midst of a game of whist, every man present had to get up and go away.