The English batteries during the long severe winter only maintained a desultory fire on the city, waiting for fresh armaments; and as ammunition ran short we had frequently to obtain supplies from the navy for current use. I was sent on many occasions to Admiral Sir Edmund Lyons in connection with these details. On one occasion, on being shown into his cabin on board the flagship, he said: 'Colonel Adye, whenever I see your face it always reminds me of a 68-pounder shot.' I thought at first he meant that it was too round, or was wanting in expression, and began to explain that I was not altogether responsible; but he said it was not that, but whenever I came to see him I always wanted a fresh supply of 68-pounder shot. My reply was that he had exactly foreseen my request, and promised if he would meet our wishes they should be safely delivered the next day into Sebastopol. The argument convinced him, and he complied at once. _Flag of Truce._--The following extract from my journal refers to rather an interesting event. '23rd of March. Accompanied Lord Burghersh, A.D.C., with a flag of truce, by order of Lord Raglan. We first went to the advanced French trenches on the left, near the sea, hoisted a white flag, and sounded a bugle. In a few minutes firing ceased on both sides. We stepped over the parapet, advanced about 100 yards, and were met by the enemy's riflemen out of their pits. A Russian officer on horseback, with two orderlies, galloped out to meet us, dismounted, and the conversation was then carried on in French. We handed him some letters, clothes, and money for French and English officers who had been taken prisoners, also a letter for Madame Osten-Sacken from Lord Raglan. His letter enclosed one from the mother of the midshipman (Giffard) who was killed in the fight at Odessa. It appears that Madame Osten-Sacken had cut off a lock of the poor boy's hair, and had sent it to his mother, who sent a letter of thanks. We offered the Russian officer a cigar, which he declined, and we also asked him a few questions, but his manner was stiff, and he shortly remounted and rode off. We returned to the trenches; the white flag was pulled down, and firing re-commenced. The French soldiers were always cheerful and good-natured in their monotonous duties. Lord Burghersh, as we passed along through their trenches, heard two of them chatting. One, looking over the parapet, said to his comrade: "Alphonse, êtes-vous prêt?" "Oui, mon ami, toujours prêt." "Eh bien! Allons faire la guerre;" and then they both jumped up and fired away through the loop-holes at the Russians.'