Some weeks later, Hoidge came in and said: "I have bad news for you, Orps. Tom and Fred have gone West." It was bad news. Tom and Fred, two gallant hearts, dead! I was told afterwards how it happened. One of the last days of the fighting, Fred went out to test his machine with his mechanic. He taxied off down the aerodrome, which was a huge old Boche one that his squadron had moved forward to. As he was taxi-ing he hit a Boche booby trap, planted in the ground, and up went the machine and fell in flames. The mechanic was thrown clear, but not Fred. Poor Tom saw it all from the door of "Virtue Villa." Out he rushed straight into the flames to Fred. I feel sure Fred's spirit cried out when it saw Tom coming in to the flames: "You're looking for a spot of bother, Tom, but it's a good show, Tom, a good show!" When the petrol burnt out and they got to them, they found Tom with his arms round Fred. Greater love hath no man. That is how Tom and Fred "went West." I hope they have found another "Virtue Villa" not "devoid of attraction" high up in the blue sky, where they were often together in this life. Let us admit they were a "good show"--in death they were not divided. Their Major wrote to me: "The Mess has never been the same since." The world itself will never be the same to those who loved Tom and Fred and their like who have "gone West." Thinking of them reminds me of those good lines by Carroll Carstairs, written in hospital after he was so badly wounded:-- "I have friends among the dead, (p. 088) Such a gallant company, Lads whose laugh is scarcely sped To the far country. "Jolly fellows, it would seem That they have not really gone-- Rather while I've stayed to dream They have marched serenely on." THE CHURCH, ZILLEBEKE (p. 089) OCTOBER 1918 "Mud Everywhere-- Nothing but mud. The very air seems thick with it, The few tufts of grass are all smeared with it-- Mud! The Church a heap of it; One look, and weep for it. That's what they've made of it-- Mud! Slimy and wet, Churned and upset; Here Bones that once mattered With crosses lie scattered, Broken and battered, Covered in mud, Here, where the Church's bell Tolled when our heroes fell In that mad start of hell-- Mud! That's all that's left of it--mud!" CHAPTER XIII (p. 090) NEARING THE END (OCTOBER 1918)