I had expected him to be a middle-aged man with a breastful of medals, with whom I would have to be formal; but Dunn was actually two months younger than myself. He was one of the fellowship of ‘only survivors.’ Captain Miller of the Black Watch in the same division was another. Miller had only escaped from the Rue du Bois massacre by swimming down a flooded trench. He has carried on his surviving trade ever since.[2] Only survivors have great reputations. Miller used to be pointed at in the streets when the battalion was back in reserve billets. ‘See that fellow. That’s Jock Miller. Out from the start and hasn’t got it yet.’ Dunn had not let the war affect his morale at all. He greeted me very easily with: ‘Well, what’s the news from England? Oh sorry, first I must introduce you. This is Walker—clever chap, comes from Cambridge and fancies himself as an athlete. This is Jenkins, one of those patriotic chaps who chucked up his job to come here. This is Price, who only joined us yesterday, but we like him; he brought some damn good whisky with him. Well, how long is the war going to last and who’s winning? We don’t know a thing out here. And what’s all this talk about war-babies? Price pretends he knows nothing about them.’ I told them about the war and asked them about the trenches. ‘About trenches,’ said Dunn. ‘Well, we don’t know as much about trenches as the French do and not near as much as Fritz does. We can’t expect Fritz to help, but the French might do something. They are greedy; they won’t let us have the benefit of their inventions. What wouldn’t we give for parachute-lights and their aerial torpedoes! But there’s no connection between the two armies except when there’s a battle on, and then we generally let each other down.