We labour in the trenches with rifle, maul and spade, We're soldiers, cooks and carpenters, and everything to trade; We stand on sentry-go all night and turn to kip at dawn, But when we're dropping off to sleep it's "Up and carry on"-- For it's carry on and carry on and carry on all day; They'll make us carry on until they carry us away; It's carry on the whole day through, at dusk as well as dawn-- Oh blimey! will they never stop their blooming Carry On! (_From "Carry On."_) The road by La Bassée Canal was gritty and dry and shone like a thread of gold in the afternoon sunlight. The Canal, dark and oily, was broken by hundreds of little petulant ripples; its banks were red with poppy flowers. Quiet reigned in the village of Gorre, where the London Irish were quartered. They had been out digging trenches at Cambrin the night before. Having been relieved from the fighting line, two nights after Reynolds' death, they were now supplying working parties to the trenches near La Bassée. In the present war the pick and shovel are as important as the rifle and bayonet. Bubb, Flanagan and Bowdy had just got up from the straw on which they had been lying. "Let's have a bloomin' dip in the briny," said Bubb. "Let's," said Bowdy and Flanagan. The trio made their way out into the village. It was a glorious day. The sky was a tender blue, the green branches of the poplars which lined the street waved sleepily, the shadows of many little clouds glided across the cobbled pavement. To eastward other little clouds formed suddenly and as suddenly paled away, and the men knew that an artillery duel of slight intensity was in progress by Cuinchy. "This ain't a bad place for a billet," said Bubb. "I could stick 'ere for duration." "We'll soon be out of it now," said Flanagan, handing round a packet of cigarettes. "Captain Thorley said this morning that we are going to trek to the Somme. Big doings down that way." "We're always in it when there's a row on," said Bubb. "It's no sooner see and like a place 'ere than you're out't next day. There are some fine birds in this 'ere place too.... Look there are the cooks gettin' dinner ready. Gawd they're sweatin' at the job too." A field kitchen stood in the church square and the smoke curled up from the sooty funnel and paled away in the clear air. Here the company cooks were busy preparing dinner. Facing the Canal was a row of red-roofed houses, with a wealth of summer flowers round the doors, the windows looked out coquettishly through roses, and green ivy clambered up the walls.