The sector itself--La Boutillerie, as it was called--requires little description beyond what has already been given and what can be seen on the map. Its two outstanding features were the Salient, a triangular piece of trench said to have been dug in one night during the days before trench warfare became stabilized, and Jay Post, a wonderful deep dug-out of magnificent proportions, which was but slightly used, as the enemy, in spite of our elaborate camouflage, had all its exits accurately registered. That night, and in fact all the time the battalion was in this sector, the Germans were amazingly quiet. It is true that the vicinity of Battalion Headquarters, the road leading up to it, and the principal communication trenches, were liberally bespattered with machine-gun bullets. This was apt to "put the wind up" those whose duties compelled them to move about at night, and caused many curses to be heaped on the head of "Parapet Joe," as the chief offender was called, from the skill with which he could traverse along our front line parapet, with its many variations in level, even on the darkest night. An occasional "minnie" also descended on the front line with a loud report; and the Brewery, where the pump was, and where the observers had an observation post along with the gunners, received spasmodic attention from "whizz-bangs." At first people in the front line talked in whispers, although generally speaking the enemy was 400 yards away; but common sense, and the war experience of some of the officers who had been out with the 1/6th Battalion, soon put an end to that and many other little absurdities. The main stumbling-block at night was the tendency of people, contrary to orders, to take refuge in shelters and "bivvies." The order forbidding this caused considerable heartburning, though its sound sense was clear enough. The weather, after being muggy and wet, had now turned bitterly cold again, and nights in the trenches under arctic conditions are never pleasant, and for the new-comer very trying. Accordingly, we were not sorry to be informed that our time in the line was to be of only four days' duration, and almost before we had realized we were in the line, officers and N.C.Os. of the 2/7th K.L.R. were arriving on tours of exploration. On the last night we had our first casualties, a "minnie" falling right on to a post, killing three men and wounding two. The fortune of war is very curious: some men go for months, and even years, unscathed through dangers of every description; others, like these three, are killed on their first tour of duty in one of the quietest sectors in France. We buried them next day in the cemetery by Battalion Headquarters, and it was melancholy to realize that the dissolution of our happy band had now commenced in grim earnest, and was likely to proceed more rapidly in the days to come.