One amusing, yet, in a way, tragic thing happened here. This plain of which I am speaking was not unlike the prairie. All hedges were gone except a few here and there. It was mostly grass land and apparently there had been a crop taken off there the autumn before. Scattered over this place were farmhouses, which of course were in ruins, but a bunch of cows had by some means managed to keep alive here, and this same herd were quietly grazing away, while men all around them were burrowing in the ground for their lives. It was most amusing to see a cow calmly lying down and chewing away. Poor creatures, they did not last long. How they managed to live any time was marvelous, considering what was flying around them. Next night, to our great joy, a tea ration was brought up, but our hopes were dashed to the ground by the O.C's. forbidding any fires to be lighted. Of course, there were blazing stacks and buildings everywhere, but not in our vicinity. Water was plentiful enough, but we were obliged to go some distance for drinkable water. Here we were, with tea, sugar and water, yet unable to make a dixie of tea, and it must be remembered that we had had neither hot food nor a hot drink for twelve days. Fritz, however, very obligingly solved our difficulty. We were lying close to a thatched barn, which, by another of those miraculous, unexplainable things, had not yet been shelled. However, Fritzie must have known our trouble, for bang! bang! and a couple of "hissing Jennies" hit the barn plump, and in an instant that barn was ablaze. It soon burned to the ground and, utterly reckless of shell fire or machine guns, we crowded round the hot embers and brewed our tea. The officers raged at us for a bunch of suicidal fools, as exposing ourselves with a light background was liable to draw half of the Boche artillery on us. The Old Man himself saw us crowding round the embers--a splendid mark on the top of that hill. Over he rushed, his face fairly blazing with rage. "Get into your holes, you suicidal fools," he roared. But, colonel as he was, some one told him where he might go. We all feared for the result of this remark, as it was no less than deliberate insubordination punishable with a very heavy penalty. If it had been a German private soldier who had answered his commanding officer in such fashion, he would not have had time to say his prayers. But I suppose the Colonel had a heart somewhere under his belt and he passed it up. It probably brought home to him what his men had been through. So we got our tea, "and of all the drinks I've drunk" my gratitude to Fritz far exceeded Kipling's Tommy to Gunga Din. CHAPTER XXVI YSER When relieved from this hillside we once more marched through Ypres, had two days' rest in the adjoining fields, and were then sent to guard the Yser Canal.