The first thing to do was to cover over with earth the filth left there by troops who had preceded us. The question of sanitary arrangements is a serious one. It is true that a sort of little trenches called _feuillées_ are dug on one side of the camp, but many men obstinately refuse to use them, and prefer to make use of any haphazard spot at the risk of being driven off by whip-lashes by others of more cleanly disposition. A regular guard has to be kept round the guns and horses. It is useless for the officers to threaten severe punishment to any man taken in the act outside the _feuillées_. Nothing stops them. The Captain keeps repeating: "What a set of hogs!" * * * * * To-night the sound of the guns is quite close. Perhaps we shall go into action at last. It was a difficult job to find any wood fit to burn. Such as there was was damp and when burning gave off a thick acrid smoke which the wind blew down upon us. We had to fetch the water for the soup from more than 300 yards away, and then keep a constant look-out to prevent the horses from getting at it. The bread just given out was mouldy, and we had to toast it in order to take away the musty taste. When it is time to water the teams the only street of the village is thronged with horses either led or ridden bare-back. Six batteries are encamped round Moirey, and there is only one pond into which a thin stream of clear water, not more than two fingers thick, trickles from a fountain. Every twenty paces one has to stop and manoeuvre in order to avoid kicks, and the men, annoyed by the delay, swear at each other without reason. After four or five minutes one advances another twenty paces, and, when finally the pond is reached, the men and beasts sinking ankle-deep in mud, it is only to find that hundreds of horses have left so much drivel and slime on the water that our animals refuse to drink. It is reported that there has been a great battle near Nancy and that we have won the day. Why don't we advance also? _Tuesday, August 18_ Lucas, the cyclist of the battery, succeeded in finding two bottles of champagne, which he hid in a corner of the guard-house where Le Bidois, who was on sentry duty, kept an eye on them. Lucas is a young draughtsman of talent. His character is faithfully reflected by his face--fresh, mobile, perhaps a little feminine. You meet him in the morning and he seizes you by the arm: "Oh, my dear chap ... such a pretty little woman ... a perfect dream!..." And the same evening he will say: "Oh, my dear chap ... such a fraud.... No, not a word!... What a fraud!" It appears that at Damvillers, a neighbouring village, he has made the conquest of a little woman who sells tobacco. And he still manages to get hold of cigarettes, writing-paper, liqueurs, and even champagne, whereas no one else has been able to lay hands on any of these luxuries for some time past.