On September 16th we were relieved by the 15th Welch, and proceeded to Neuf Berquin viâ Estaires, a distance of seven or eight miles, under a very hot sun. After a day's quiet training here, we handed over our billets to the 4/5th Loyal North Lancashire Regiment, and set off to L'Ecleme on September 18th. The Brigade marched as such, the battalion starting at 8.20 a.m., and passing the Brigade starting-point at 10 a.m. The route led round the southern outskirts of Merville, and thence viâ Calonne and Robecq. Our billets were in L'Ecleme, a little hamlet about a mile south-east of Busnes. The morning proved cloudy, which made marching pleasant; and, thanks to our early start, we were in by midday. Next day we were on the move again for our final destination, St. Hilaire. On the way we passed through the comparatively large town of Lillers, and then the village of Bourecq. The country, from being as flat as could be conceived, now became pleasantly undulating and very pretty, especially to eyes tired of the lifeless monotony of Northern France. St. Hilaire itself is a delightful little village, consisting of one long winding street with several little side streets running off it. Billets were, on the whole, good, and you felt at once the relief of being able to move without a box-respirator and steel helmet. Thoughts of war vanished for the moment; the mind was occupied with the pleasant rural scenes and the air of quiet industry that pervaded the spot, so different from the wear and tear of war, and so infinitely refreshing. At St. Hilaire the battalion spent a month, and from the first it became apparent that the "rest" was only a preparation for a "push." The first day was spent by the Commanding Officer in inspecting the battalion. This is a far more lengthy process than might be supposed, and it is surprising what a length of time can be spent on it without the inspector realizing that he has taken more than a few minutes. The next day training areas, which had been duly allotted, were covered with the men performing various mysterious evolutions. Here you would see a whole company endeavouring to perform a wheel in close column, with the Company Sergeant-Major and Platoon Officers now urging on, now checking, the onrush of what from a distance is apt to look like a race crowd breaking on to the course. From another part of the field a sudden series of unearthly shouts betokens the efforts of a final assault party to inspire terror in the hearts of rows of disinterested sacks. Here, again, stand a group of men solemnly waving their arms in a slow and stately movement. There comes a sudden order, and in a trice the whole crowd are off, like a pack of hounds, to some neighbouring object and back again. "Physical jerks," if properly carried out, are full of variety.