Relieved for forty-eight hours and marched to ----, four miles. Good billets. Delicious shave and wash, and two glorious nights in my valise. _Dec. 18th._ Pass into ----, to see H.[3] No luck--on leave. He returned ten minutes after I left for ----. _Dec. 19th._ H. ran over to see me, and we had two full hours’ “jawing,” and _café au lait_. Left for same trenches at 12.30. Had a warm reception with artillery, and owing to some “show” in the vicinity had to stand-to for hours. Raining hard and mud knee-deep--miserable, and thought and thought of the happy home, and wondered and wondered! Went out on patrol with one man at five next morning, but had to return post-haste, as three of the enemy were on similar job and washed our intentions out. _Dec. 20th._ Shelling all day, both sides. Few men hit. _Dec. 21st._ At stand-to, 6 a.m. Much shelling. Very uncomfortable. At 7.30 an enemy mine went up--a fearsome thing. The sensations were these-- I. A horrible rocking of the trench. II. A tremendous dull roar. III. A huge column of earth rising higher and higher into the sky. Then came the falling matter, we lying in the bottom of the trench, while everything imaginable fell around--earth--huge clods--sandbags and timber. One big piece of wood landed with a thud a foot from my head and spattered me with mud. Escape No. 2 since I joined. Fortunately the mine was lifted just beyond our saps, and presumably in the same place as the crater. No one was seriously hurt--only two slightly knocked about. Of course an attack was expected, but none came, and we stood-to till 8.30. Had an awful time from mine explosion till we were relieved at 2.30 p.m. Marvellous how we all escaped. I thought my number was up every minute, and my nerves were not of the best and I was feeling a bit rocky. While relief was being carried on we had an awful time: all kinds of shells, big and small, landing everywhere. Very fortunate to get out with no casualties. Incoming regiment had a few. At 11.15 p.m. I returned to trenches in order to go out again on patrol. Was out for thirty minutes, took survey and returned safely, covered with mud and pretty wet. Returned to ---- Farm, where my platoon is billeted. It is a small fortress, built up with sandbags from a big ruined brewery. Last night while asleep, about 3.30 a.m., a big shell burst just outside my cellar door, and again I thought my number was up. Earth, etc., was shot into my abode, and the doorway blocked up, not to mention bricks; but I was left intact. [Illustration: _To face p. 218._ A BRITISH SUBALTERN IN HIS TRENCH, WEARING HIS GAS-HELMET.] _Dec. 22nd._ Shelling this ruined village ---- all the morning, and the trips to the men at meal-times were very risky, the latter being in another keep 150 yards up the road. One had to dash for it every time. Shelling remained hot, so had to remain at the mess till after tea, 4.30 p.m.