“That’s right; but I almost wish I ’adn’t,” he sighed. “I was ’appier there than ever before or since. Jerry’s March push in ’Eighteen did us in; an’ yet, ’ow could we ’ave expected it? ’Ow _could_ we ’ave expected it? We’d been sent back for rest an’ runnin’-repairs, back pretty near our base; an’ our old loco’ that used to shift us about o’ nights, she’d gone down the line for repairs. But for ’Ammick we wouldn’t even ’ave ’ad our camouflage-screens up. He told our Brigadier that, whatever ’e might be in the Gunnery line, as a leadin’ Divorce lawyer he never threw away a point in argument. So ’e ’ad us all screened in over in a cuttin’ on a little spur-line near a wood; an’ ’e saw to the screens ’imself. The leaves weren’t more than comin’ out then, an’ the sun used to make our glue-paint stink. Just like actin’ in a theatre, it was! But ’appy. _But_ ’appy! I expect if we’d been caterpillars, like the new big six-inch hows, they’d ha’ remembered us. But we was the old La Bassee ’15 Mark o’ Heavies that ran on rails--not much more good than scrap-iron that late in the war. An’, believe me, gents--or Brethren, as I should say--we copped it cruel. Look ’ere! It was in the afternoon, an’ I was watchin’ Gander instructin’ a class in new sights at Lady Catherine. All of a sudden I ’eard our screens rip overhead, an’ a runner on a motor-bike come sailin’, sailin’ through the air--like that bloke that used to bicycle off Brighton Pier--and landed one awful wop almost atop o’ the class. ‘’Old ’ard,’ says Gander. ‘That’s no way to report. What’s the fuss?’ ‘Your screens ’ave broke my back, for one thing,’ says the bloke on the ground; ‘an’ for another, the ’ole front’s gone.’ ‘Nonsense,’ says Gander. ’E ’adn’t more than passed the remark when the man was vi’lently sick an’ conked out. ’E ’ad plenty papers on ’im from Brigadiers and C. O.’s reporting ’emselves cut off an’ askin’ for orders. ’E was right both ways--his back an’ our front. The ’ole Somme front washed out as clean as kiss-me-’and!” His huge hand smashed down open on his knee. “We ’eard about it at the time in the ’Oly Land. Was it reelly as quick as all that?” said Anthony. “Quicker! Look ’ere! The motor-bike dropped in on us about four pip-emma. After that, we tried to get orders o’ some kind or other, but nothin’ came through excep’ that all available transport was in use and not likely to be released. _That_ didn’t ’elp us any. About nine o’clock comes along a young Brass ’At in brown gloves. We was quite a surprise to ’im. ’E said they were evacuating the area and we’d better shift. ‘Where to?’ says ’Ammick, rather short.