“Platoon, March to Attention!” Pipes and cigarettes disappear; slings are tightened; rifles are brought to the slope. “Left--Left--Left, Right, Left!” The pace smartens up to the regulation hundred and twenty to the minute. “Eyes--Right!” They are passing the cross-roads where the C.O., with his Adjutant, is standing. “Eyes--Front! March Easy!” Again rifles are slung and matches struck. The pace soon settles down to the old hundred to the minute. The road is muddier than ever now. Few vehicles, except the infantry transport, use it beyond the village; and so it is seldom repaired. The country grows more desolate; on all sides are ruined buildings, shattered trees, and the countless signs of war. But jest and song help to enliven the way, for the men are fresh after their few days’ rest. At “ten minutes to the hour” the platoon falls out on the right of the road. Equipment is taken off. The grass is wet, but some sit down; in later days, in spite of all orders to the contrary, they will sit on their “tin hats.” It seems hardly a minute before they are called on to don their equipment and fall in again. At length a communication trench is reached. The men are quieter now. Over to the right an occasional shell is bursting. The crack of a rifle is heard now and then. The trench is muddy, and, here and there, water is over the duckboards. Private Z slips, and expresses his opinion of the sandbag-full of charcoal, which he is carrying, in unmistakeable terms. The trench seems endless, but, at last, the front line is reached. Other men, covered with mud and wearing equipment, are waiting there. The relief goes smoothly. Sentries are changed, duties are handed over, the latest intelligence about “Fritz” or “Jerry” is imparted. “Quiet tour. Not a casualty in our company. He doesn’t fire if you lie doggo.” With every sign of satisfaction the relieved troops withdraw. Men who are not on sentry seek their shelters and grouse at the condition they have been left in. The platoon commander inspects his line, swears that the people he has relieved have done no work during the whole tour, and goes off to air his grievances at Company H.Q. The Company Commander wires “Hundred gallons of rum urgently needed,” “Love to Alice,” or some such message, which has been agreed upon to signify “Relief complete.” The tour has begun. * * * * * For the first time, the Battalion was responsible for the defence of a sector of the line, with no one between it and the enemy. There it was to remain for about two months, inter-relieving every few days with the 6th Battalion Duke of Wellington’s Regt., and spending its rest periods in and near the village of Fleurbaix.