Our little march in the dark was accompanied with heavy rain squalls and the weather turning bitterly cold. We missed our billeting party in the darkness, for it was intense. I think the inside of a public house was appealing to them at the time, so I halted my men, and by sending mounted officers in every direction, with luck I caught some of them. And here we are again, and very comfortable. Of course, we still have our early rising to contend with, but otherwise for the moment things are pretty straight. These Irishmen are most amusing fellows; they can't be treated like the English soldier: one has to be much more strict with them, and ride them at other times with a much lighter hand. For the next few months, unless Germany collapses at once, there will be _heavy fighting_ for us. I am glad to hear that the Russians are driving these knaves back. What it really means is that when the Germans fight a successful action, they lose a certain number of men whom they cannot replace, and use up ammunition which they cannot make in a hurry, and so the war gradually draws to its conclusion, I trust.... I had to fly away just then to deal with my many prisoners and my companies also. I am sorry you have had illness in the house; I am so used to sickness that it hardly appals me when it applies to other people. For instance, since I came out here, if you multiply the number of my Father's town house in Porchester Terrace by 10 [number invalided, 470] you will be below the numbers who have been invalided from my Bn. since I came to France, and before that there was Hursley Park, Winchester, and the voyage home from India, when I lived amongst sick men for some unknown reason. The weather is now varying between skiffs of snow and bright gleams of sunshine, but very, very cold.... _March 9th, 1915._