IN BILLETS. _November 29th, 1914._ You can see by this that your notepaper has duly arrived, for which I am much obliged. I was also glad to get your letter, and I am sure that you must be very pleased to be back in Rostrevor again. Curious how I have been kept away from you for three years, is it not, first by my promotion, and then this awful war.... Well, yesterday I think I told you that I saw a shell strike close beside one of my companies, so I ran and put the men into bomb-proof, or rather splinter-proofs. Having seen they were safe, I went on with my work, though it is not pleasant doing this sort of thing whilst shells are flying about! Anyhow, I started out afterwards to reconnoitre the road to a certain town, and passed two men of the Rifle Brigade making a coffin. I asked for whom it was intended, and found that this same shell had killed a very nice Major, called "Harman," of the Rifle Brigade, whilst another man was badly wounded, and a Captain also in the Rifle Brigade. It all happened just as far from me as Carlton Village is from the house, or a few yards more at farthest. Well, we buried the poor fellow after dark. This morning we had service both for our Catholic and Church of England men, and after that the General decided to inspect my regiment. As he approached, so did the shells, and in a few seconds everyone was flying for shelter to ditches and holes in the ground like rabbits to their burrows. Having knocked us about with 300-lb. shells, they then thought that we should be out of the house, and they let loose with shrapnel, which is a great man-killer. I watched the first burst coming, and had everyone under cover whilst they rained this around. I think they must have been in a bad humour. At all events, they wasted L500 worth of ammunition to no purpose. I expect they are told by spies which houses we occupy, as they appeared to follow us about steadily. It has become much milder, but still cold enough when we turn out at five o'clock in the morning. One certainly does not eat the bread of idleness in the British Army at present! Here comes our solitary lamp, borrowed from the absent farmer, but before it arrives we must close the blinds, as the light would certainly insure a shelling for us. I am glad you had a good run across to Ireland, and that Sydney was a good boy. I wonder how much longer we are going to stay here. Rumour has it that the enemy is moving back, but I cannot say. IN BILLETS. _November 30th, 1914._