dribble out and make room for them. Reports of "relief complete" soon began to arrive, and the last company was through in a remarkably short time, a fact which the New Zealanders commented on with pleasure. Nothing is more annoying for an outgoing unit than to be held up by a bad relief. The last words of wisdom were spoken, trench stores signed for, and the other little formalities completed. With a cheery "Good luck!" and a hearty handshake they were off, and our Commanding Officer found himself for the first time in sole charge of a sector. As soon as our friends were clear, he, with his usual energy, was calling for his runner, and was off round the line to see how "A" and "B" Companies were getting on. With their wonted consideration, the New Zealanders had left an officer and N.C.O. for the first twenty-four hours with each company, knowing that the first night in the trenches is rather a strain, and the helping hand of the experienced was a great asset. Many were the problems which were exercising the minds of the Company Commanders as the Commanding Officer visited them in turn. Endless questions of detail presented themselves, which had first to be learnt and understood by oneself, and the information then passed on to the company--a far more laborious and difficult task. Only a few hours of daylight remained, and there was still much to be done. The lists of things contained in the Trench Standing Orders, "What every Platoon Commander should know," "What every Section Commander should know," and so forth, were enough to distract the most phlegmatic mind, especially when nobody knew the answers to half the questions. The ideal--that is, when everyone knows and understands the answers to all these vital questions--is never attained except in a sector in which every member of the battalion knows them by heart, and at present no one had the requisite knowledge. To add to the difficulties, you constantly lost your way and wandered aimlessly in half derelict trenches, searching in vain for (say) No. 2 Post, where Sergeant X., only recently promoted to that exalted rank, was certain to be in need of advice and assistance. Eventually, giving up for the time all hope of finding this elusive post, you decide to return to Company Headquarters, where the Company Sergeant-Major is anxiously working out patrols, ration parties, and duties of every description, only to find your own Headquarters even more cunningly concealed than the much-sought No. 2 Post. In vain you consult the elegant sketch map of the trenches, that pretty but fallacious document which shows the way so clearly, but omits any reference to _disused_ trenches, which often look in such good condition as to lead you astray and lure you by gradual stages into a forlorn wilderness of abandoned saps. It is all very trying.