On a certain day when we were being relieved from the front line opposite Bully Grenay I had not yet seen General H----. On going out with my orderlies we were to pass along Damoisette trench, which was one of the front support trenches, and was an "out" trench that day. We found it blocked by some other officers of our battalion and a couple of platoons, for this trench was being heavily shelled just ahead of the block. We joined the others and waited some time, when an officer said: "By G--, I take enough chances without waiting here for the Huns to drop those shells on our heads. I am going out Caron d'Aix," which was an "in" trench that day for this relief. But the relief was to have been completed at 10 a.m., and it was then 10:15, so we would hardly cause any obstruction. This fact, combined with the fact that probably everyone, as is often the case, was waiting for someone else to propose going back, made us all turn about and retrace our steps. We were going along Caron d'Aix trench when I heard an angry voice behind me demanding: "Doctor, what are you doing in this trench? Don't you know that this is an 'in' trench?" I turned and saw a thin-lipped, square-jawed Lieutenant Colonel who, I guessed at once, was our returned O.C. I explained that Damoisette was being shelled heavily, that relief was complete, and that only three of the men ahead were mine. His face was quite dark and frowning, and I could see that he was debating as to whether he should give me a strafing, or pass it over. Finally, he said sharply: "All right; carry on." That night at Bully I did not look forward with any great pleasure to my dinner, for I had heard of his reputation as to temper, and I expected he would say a few things to me, though, as Kelly well put it, "it's none of an officer's business to put his nose against an advancin' German shell." But I plucked up my courage and entered the H.Q. mess room, to be greeted in a kindly and friendly manner by Lieutenant Colonel H----. "How are you, doctor? I have not had the pleasure of meeting you before," shaking my hand. "Pardon me, sir, but you met me in a trench today where I had no right to be." "No. You were quite right to be there. I made inquiries, and find you were right. And anyway, I had no damned right to be there myself." In the time that I remained with his battalion I found him always to be a courteous gentleman, but with an irascible temper. One would not be surprised if, since his becoming a Brigadier General, his temper is less touchy. And the incident of the Pimple shows that he is an efficient officer, well worthy of the land of his forefathers, and a credit to the country of his adoption and of his men. CHAPTER XVII A TRIP TO ARRAS