Just now we are undergoing a shelling from a heavy German howitzer; a piece fell at my feet as I was outside talking to Col. Spedding, cousin to Major Spedding of my regiment, whom you knew. He tells me that Major S. is supposed to be dead, but the difficulty is that every now and then some rumour comes that he has been seen alive, and poor Mrs. Spedding catches at any hope. He was a brave man, which, after all, is what we want. I enclose you my sister Amy's letter. Yesterday I had to go off to look at some forts. The German snipers were busy, though there was so thick a mist that they could not see me. Still, their bullets fell pretty close, and hit one of the forts; a man was also wounded in the leg. It shows how dangerous this unaimed fire can be when it comes in quantities. I had a quaint postcard from Sydney in reply to my last letter. Yes; I saw that Massereene, poor Herbert Stepney, and many others I know were mentioned in the despatches. The Military Cross is a new order, awarded to junior officers. As to the Russians, they have large numbers of men, but are still unfortunately short of equipment. Germany had plenty of men, though she never imagined that she would have to get the last 2 millions out. They were not trained, but neither were the Russians; I think, however, that we shall wear them down all right in the end. The Germans are supposed to have used up half their last million already. Our days here are very hard; for instance, I was up at 2 a.m., and have been walking or working ever since then, arranging with engineers or Generals or artillery officers what is to be done. I lay down for an hour after 6 o'clock, but could not sleep on account of cold feet. IN TRENCHES. _February 24rd, 1915._