The noise in this place is worse than anything previously experienced. Being, as we are now, the most advanced battery in this particular sector, we get the full benefit of every gun that is behind us—and there are many. Moreover, the hostile artillery is extremely active, especially in the wood, where every shell comes down with a hissing rush that ends in an appalling crash. About midnight the Boche began to put over small ‘stink’ shells. These seemed to flit through the air, and always landed with a soft-sounding ‘phutt’ very like a dud. One burst just behind our trench and wounded a gunner in the foot. Found it impossible to sleep, owing to the din. _July 18._—At 4 A.M. the hostile bombardment seemed so intense that, fearing a counter-attack, I got up to look round. Was reassured by Angelo, who had already done so. Beyond the fact that the wood was being systematically searched with five-nines, there was nothing much doing. Returned to bed, but still failed to sleep. Fired at intervals throughout the day at various spots allotted by Brigade H.Q. Having no O.P. had to do everything from the map. Men all digging when not actually firing: position now nearly splinter-proof. A most unnerving day, however. A Hun barrage of ‘air-crumps’ on the ridge in front of us by the Cutting, another one to our right along the edge of the wood, many five-nines over our heads into the dip behind us, and quite a few into Acid Drop Copse on our left rear. In the afternoon we had half a dozen H.E. ‘pip-squeaks’ very close at a moment when there were three wagons up replenishing ammunition. One burst within four yards of the lead horses—and no damage. This _cannot_ last. Orders for a big attack received at 4 P.M. At 5 counter-orders to the effect that we are to be relieved to-night. Fired continuously till about 8.30, then packed up and waited for the teams, which arrived about 9. We were just congratulating ourselves on our luck, it being then rather a quiet moment and three out of the four teams already on the move, when a big ‘air-crump’ burst straight above our heads, wounding the sergeant-major in the thigh. Put him up on the last limber and sent the guns off as fast as they could go—ground too bad to gallop. Two more shells followed us down the valley, but there were no further casualties. At the bottom missed the Child: sent to inquire if he was at the head of the column—no. Was beginning to get nervous, when he strolled up from the rear, accompanied by the officers’-mess cook. ‘Pity to leave these behind,’ he observed, throwing down a kettle and a saucepan!