A Belgian battery commander has just wakened up and his shells are rattling overhead. From the fire trenches an incessant rattle of rifles is heard; all the bullets seem to come over here; constantly the whine of a musical ricochet bullet is heard. Otherwise things are dead quiet. It’s getting on for three, so I’m going to bed in my blankets on one of the late chateau owner’s splendid spring mattresses and carved oak bedstead. Oh! how nice it would be to sleep without lice. From an adjoining cellar my section are snoring, and I’m going to add to the chorus. Good-night, everybody. ------------------------------------- We have been having Sunday “hate.” Eight-inch crumps are once more busting “up” the chateau. How they must detest this place. My tea and bully beef are covered with dust of the last shell. You have no idea how terrible the shell-fire is. First you hear the whistle and then a terrific burst which shakes the ground for a hundred yards around; when it clears away you find a hole ten feet across and six feet deep. At least fifteen have dropped around us in the last half hour. This place isn’t somewhere in France, it’s somewhere in Hell! It has been the scene of a great many encounters; decayed French uniforms, old rifles, ammunition and leather equipment and bundles of mildewed tobacco leaves are strewn all over the place. I found the chin-strap of a German “Pickelhaube” in the grounds, the helmet of a French cuirassier, and the red pants of a Zouave, close together. When digging in the trenches or anywhere near the firing line you have to be careful: corpses, dead horses, and cattle are buried everywhere. I’m building a trench to my emplacement and we have a stinking cow in the direct line; this will have to be buried before we can cut through. Everybody is cheerful and going strong. Yesterday some of my men went swimming in the moat of the chateau; a shell dropped in the water near them, and threw up a lot of fish on to the bank. That kind of discouraged the Tommies swimming, so they cooked the fish and decided that safety comes before cleanliness out here. It’s hot and sticky, and when you have to wear thick clothes and equipment it makes you very uncomfortable, but it’s all in the game. All through the night we fired single shots from a machine gun; my orders were to fire between half-past eight at night and four o’clock in the morning. We have a number of guns doing this. It harasses the enemy and keeps them from sleeping; anything that will wear a man down is practiced here.