only about ten miles and arrived at Blendeque for lunch, where we were billeted with the brewer, a most topping and hospitable old man, who offered us drinks before lunch, and attended to us in a most courtly manner. After lunch Kitty and I borrowed two signallers' bikes and biked into St. Omer to get pay--it is rather nice country round here, not flat like it is further forward, but rolling downs and quite a lot of wood, and lanes, rather like Salisbury Plain. You will be relieved to know that the Bosches could not shell us here if he tried, and we are here in army rest for a week or two. In St. Omer we went for money for ourselves and men, and then went to the canteen to get cigarettes, &c.; after that we went to a tea shop to tea. While we were there a lot of the 16th Scots came in, and we had a jolly tea altogether. We then biked back again. I paid my men, and then we had a jolly good dinner. After dinner we went in to enjoy ourselves with our host; he offered us all sorts of drinks, cigarettes, cigars, &c., in a very hospitable manner, and his daughter played the piano and we all sang all sorts of English songs. Madamoiselle sang "Where my caravan has rested," "Chocolate soldier," &c., with a perfect English accent. Then she and Monsieur sang from various operas in French; they both have very good voices, and have been well trained. When we went to bed I said to Madamoiselle "Bon soir," &c., of course, in a hopelessly English accent, and she replied with "Good-night" in perfect English. In bed, unfortunately, Kitty insisted on having all the bed and most of the bedclothes, and in the morning accused me of taking it all. When two people sleep together they always both sleep on the edge, and a mysterious third person seems to come and sleep in the middle and to take all the clothes. At 8-0 this morning we moved off again and arrived here at Eperlecques at about 12-30, this being our final destination. We are in a big farm, with a nice big mess-room and a nice little bedroom with a big bed for Kitty and myself. To-night we had to go to Divisional Headquarters in the rain, and returned home for a late dinner, and are now sitting in pyjamas and coats with a big wood fire. Two of my men, two corporals, are getting Divisional cards of merit for their work and pluck in the strafe the other day. Well, good-night, little Mother. Much love to all, from your loving Son, ALEC. P.S.--Have received a week or two ago the three parcels you mentioned, but absolutely no papers. Would you please send me another pair of pyjamas and lots of handkerchiefs, no more tea or milk, but lots of those Foster Clark's 2d. packets of soup, and cake any time. P.P.S.--I am writing in duplicate to make a diary, and names are censored by me in letters home, but you can see them later. P.P.P.S.--Life is very pleasant. April 15th.