On April 19th we received orders to reconnoitre the Boutillerie sector, held by the 2/5th King's Own Royal Lancaster Regiment, with a view to early relief; and the Commanding Officer, Adjutant, and Company Commanders proceeded the same day to Foray House, the "King's Own" Headquarters. This sector was a combination of the old Boutillerie trenches, held by us in February, and the trenches on our immediate right. There had been several British and enemy raids since then, and the damage caused had been considerable. The difficulty of maintaining 2,800 yards of front in a decent state of repair throughout its whole length had further impaired the condition of the trenches, and we were not surprised to find serious signs of decay on every hand. Our first experience, moreover, of walking quite considerable distances--_i.e._, several hundred yards--without finding a trace of the defenders proved very instructive, and showed us what to expect for the future. The next day (April 20th, 1917) these orders were cancelled, and we were now informed that on the 26th we were to take over the Houplines sector in front of Armentières from the Australians. We set out once more on a tour of exploration. We rode to the Australian Brigade Headquarters in the Rue Jesuit, and thence on foot along the Houplines road to Tissage Dump, where the trenches began. Those who now saw Armentières for the first time might well be impressed by the feeling of desolation which prevailed. The silent, shuttered houses, the empty streets, the ruins and the débris were familiar from the villages which had been already visited, but nowhere hitherto had the picture been on so large a scale as here. Armentières had been a bright and busy town before the war, with a population of some 30,000 people. Large spinning factories, fine houses and handsome shops abounded. Many of the streets, it is true, still contained quite a number of inhabitants; but as you made your way down the Rue Jesuit towards the line, fewer and fewer grew the signs of any civil population, and more and more battered became the houses. It is a long walk to Tissage Dump. On the left you soon passed Barbed-Wire Square, then quite a pleasant grass-grown square with young trees just beginning to bud. In the far corner a wonderful green and blue tiled house had apparently been the residence of a lady fortune-teller. The next landmark was the level-crossing, beside which a huge church bell was suspended on a wooden frame to give warning against gas. The road a little farther on swung round first to the right, past some very dilapidated workmen's cottages of a curious blue tint; and then to the left, where stood L'Octroi d'Houplines, the familiar little wooden erection to be found on the outskirts of every French town. This had been hit by a shell; it was a corner of ill repute, and the board bearing its title hung at an acute angle, being only supported by a fastening at one end. On the left of the road, next to the factory