Here we are back in the trenches, and a shell has just burst quite close to us. A Yeomanry major has been lunching with me. I put him up in the "Residency" at Aden on his way home, and he asked to come down into our trenches, though he belongs to another division, as he wanted the experience. His name is Backhouse, and his brother was Flag Lieutenant to Admiral Jellicoe at the beginning of the war. We arrived here very peacefully last night, cheered by news of the Russian successes, and then I went my rounds from 3 o'clock till 7.30 in the morning. I pointed out to some of my men that they were standing in a dangerous place, but they said it was all right, and I heard an hour after that three of them had been struck by one bullet. Later the General came along to see about things, and I had to go round with him. A shrapnel from our guns burst short and just missed a man I was speaking to.... However, thank Heaven! we did not have any fired at us. A curious thing happened the night before last. One of the British patrols in my line saw a German at the wire entanglements in the darkness, and fired. The German fell, calling out: "Don't shoot, soldier." When they were able to get up to him they found that he had laid his rifle and equipment down before he was seen, and either wanted to surrender or, as he had some wire cutters with him, was trying to cut the entanglement. Anyhow, poor fellow! he had had the large artery of his leg cut, and was just at the point of death. We buried him at the back of the ruin. Did you ever think how between the devil and the deep sea the German soldier is? If he runs away, he is shot; if he advances, he is generally shot; and if he tries to desert, as in this case, he is shot too. A hard fate.... IN TRENCHES. _February 11th, 1915._