I would hurriedly state that the Doctor's remarks were anent two pictures which are, I believe, occasionally to be found in officers' messes in the B.E.F.--pictures of a Parisian flavour as befits the Entente--pictures which--at any rate they are well known to many, and I will not specify further. "Yes, the lady with the gween wig is dweadful." The boy sipped his port. "Infant, I'm shocked at you. The depravity of these children nowadays . . ." An orderly came into the room with an envelope, which he handed to the Captain. The C.O. spread out the flimsy paper and frowned slightly as he read the message. "T.M. Emp. No. 7, completely wrecked by a direct hit 9.30 a.m. this morning, A.A.A. Please inspect and report, A.A.A., C.R.E., 140th Division." "Delayed as usual," grunted the Scotchman. "I was there just after it happened, and reported it to the O.C. Trench Mortars. Did you not hear, sir, for it's useless repairing it? That position is too well known." "Were there any casualties?" The Sapper Captain's voice was quiet. "Aye. The poor lad that was crooning over his gun when I saw him this morning, like a cat over her undrowned kitten, just disappeared." "What d'you mean, Mac?" "It was one of the big ones, and it came right through the wire on top of him." The gruff voice was soft. "Poor bairn!" [1] _Special Note to Lovers of Etymology_. _Il n'y en a plus_. There is no more. French phrase signifying complete absence of. Largely heard in estaminets near closing time. _Naploo_.--Original pure English phrase signifying the perisher has run out of beer. _Napoo_.--Vulgar and bastardised shortening of original pure English phrase. Has now been added to B.E.F. dictionary, and is used to imply that a man, thing, person, animal, or what not, is "finished." II OVER THE TOP "On the afternoon of the 21st we gained a small local success. Our line was advanced on a front of six hundred yards, over an average depth of a quarter of a mile. All the ground gained was successfully consolidated. Up to date eighty-six unwounded prisoners have passed through the corps cage, of whom three are officers." Thus ran the brief official notice so tersely given in the "Intelligence Summary," known to the ribald as "Comic Cuts"; later it will appear even more tersely in the daily communique which delights the matutinal kipper and twin eggs of England. It's all so simple; it all sounds such a ridiculously easy matter to those who read. Map maniacs stab inaccurate maps with pins; a few amateur strategists discourse at length, and with incredible ignorance, on the bearing it--and countless other similar operations--will have on the main issue. And the vast majority remark gloomily to the other members of the breakfast table that there is nothing in the paper as usual. Nothing, my friend! I wonder. . . .