Strange ghostly banners o'er them float, Strange bugles sound an awful note, And all their faces and their eyes Are lit with starlight from the skies. The anguish and the pain have passed, And peace hath come to them at last. But in the stern looks linger still The iron purpose and the will. Dear Christ, who reign'st above the flood Of human tears and human blood, A weary road these men have trod, O house them in the home of God. The Quartermaster of the 3rd Brigade furnished me with a change of underwear, for which I was most grateful. I felt quite proud of having some extra clothes again. The battalions were moved at last out of the area and we were ordered off to rest. Our first stop was near Vlamertinghe. We reached it in the afternoon, and, chilly though it was, I determined to have a bath. Murdoch MacDonald got a bucket of water from a green and slimy pond and put it on the other side of a hedge, and there I retired to have a wash and change. I was just in the midst of the process when, to my confusion, the Germans began to shell the adjoining field, and splinters of shell fell in the hedge behind me. The transport men on the other side called out to me (p. 076) to run and take cover with them under the waggons. "I can't, boys", I replied, "I have got no clothes on." They roared with laughter at my plight. Though clothes are not at all an impregnable armour, somehow or other you feel safer when you are dressed. There was nothing for it but to complete my ablutions, which I did so effectually in the cold spring air that I got a chill. That night I was racked with pains as I rode on the horse which the M.O. lent me, on our march to Bailleul.