_Monday._--On duty. Inspected the grub first thing. Awfully good chap our Quartermaster; tried to show me how to spot bully beef. 'Pon my soul I think the real work of a Battalion is done off the scenes, as it were. How the deuce they manage to feed nine hundred beggars without a regular fuss, beats me. No complaints about the breakfast. My own a bit off, as I was late. Preliminary training and drills. Been trying to hammer a little knowledge into our N.C.O.'s. The non-commissioned man may be the backbone of the army, but I'll be hanged if he is of the Volunteers. Went round lines at dinner. Two or three complaints; either too much fat or too little gravy. Got rather good wheeze for these occasions; nearly always come from an untidy lot, so invariably say I never take complaints from a dirty tent; makes 'em very sick. Turned out the guards; good thing in principle, generally a bally farce in practice. * * * * * _Tuesday._--Had to dig young Brown out of his tent about 2 A.M.; his man hadn't slacked off the tent ropes, and as there was rather a heavy dew, the whole show collapsed. Fancy B. thought the camp had been rushed, as we discovered him clutching his sword. His lamp had been knocked over, and he was soaked in paraffin, and smelt vilely. Rotted B. about it all day. Fooled about in rear of my half company most of the time, as the Captain was enjoying himself bossing everything; he might just as well have given me a separate job to do. Got rather hauled over the coals for not seeing that the men laid out their bedding properly. Asked the Sergeant Major what the regulation way was. Wish he wouldn't _always_ preface his information with "I should have thought, Sir, that that was one of the _first_ things an officer should know." Rather a lark after mess; got young B. down and christened him "Violet de Parme," while Jackson played "Taint all lavender." Suspected B. of harbouring thoughts of revenge, so collared a syphon of soda, and after putting out my light crawled outside and waited for him. Just as he started letting the tent down, sallied forth and let fly the soda at him. Stirred up the Colonel, so had to lie awfully doggo. * * * * * _Wednesday._--Colonel rather grumpy about being disturbed. Did a futile Brigade attack to-day. Got told off as escort to some machine guns. Asked the Johnnie in command of 'em what he was going to do. Said he didn't know, but thought they wanted him to keep out of the way, and interrupt the attack as little as possible. M.G.'s usually looked on as a nuisance, I fancy. I suggested it would be rather sporting if we worked out well to a flank, and then imagined ourselves ambushed, and bolted back on the main body; give 'em awfully great opportunity of showing what they could do in an emergency, but he wouldn't rise to it. Simply a lovely chance lost of rotting up the show. Think I shall put in for the gun section next year. [Illustration: The Gun Team.]