Beyond getting things straight, little training was attempted except the fitting of small box respirators and instruction in their use, which was duly carried out. Then each man had to pass through tear gas to test his respirator. When the Commanding Officer's turn came, Lieutenant James, the Gas Officer, to make assurance doubly sure, produced such a powerful mixture that Colonel Fletcher suffered severely, and his return to the orderly-room caused a rapid exodus of the staff with streaming eyes. The only other item of interest was the valiant attempt of a fatigue party, working night and day, to bury a dead horse in ground which, owing to the recent frost, was as hard as iron, which caused an interchange of very emphatic telegrams between Brigade and Battalion Headquarters. Orders were now received for the Brigade to move on February 20th to the Sailly area, the battalion to pass the starting-point at 8.35 a.m. This meant early breakfasts and early preparations generally; but this, our first move on active service, proved a severe test of our training. However, after some vigorous criticisms from those in authority, we managed to take our places to time in the Brigade column, and set off for the new area in a steady drizzle. On the way we passed the Corps Commander, Lieutenant-General Sir A. J. Godley, commanding 2nd Anzac Corps. After leaving Merville we were warned against gas shelling. This, together with the screens which now became conspicuous at all points of the road open to observation from the enemy's positions, served to remind us that we were now at last personally interested in the war, and had ceased to be mere onlookers. In due course we arrived at La Rue de la Lys, a little distance short of Sailly, where we were to spend the night. Our billeting officer had meantime got lost; we overshot the mark and nearly reached Sailly itself, but fortunately discovered our error in time. We turned about by the military cemetery, where the first name to catch the eye was that of a sergeant who had been with us in Margate. The billets consisted of a group of farmhouses, which with difficulty accommodated the battalion. Intermittent rumbling of artillery could now be heard quite distinctly, and you really felt that the war was getting nearer, and that any day now you might be taking an active part in it. That night we felt this still more keenly, as the New Zealand Division, whom we were to relieve, were celebrating their departure by a battalion raid, and the farmhouses shook and echoed to the roar of the guns as the barrage opened on the Germans. At all times a barrage is rather awe-inspiring, but when heard for the first time without warning on a winter's night by raw troops, the effect produced is distinctly sobering.