Lord Charles Beresford was wearing khaki slacks and field service tunic, with badges of a Colonel of Royal Marines, and any one who knows the gallant Admiral by sight will at once appreciate how picturesque he looked on this occasion. The course was in a large field of very green pasture land, roped in and marked out with flags. The setting of the whole scene could not have been more beautiful. The field was surrounded with woods, and a typical French château stood at one end. The various competitive events were, as I have already remarked, not confined to the Indian Cavalry Corps; officers of both British and French cavalry regiments participated, and the many different bright scarlet and blue uniforms worn by officers of French cavalry, together with the red and gold cap-bands and gorgets of British Generals and Staff and their many rows of ribbons, showed up as bright spots of colour amongst the crowd of khaki-clad soldiers, making the whole scene a really picturesque one. The uniform of French cavalry officers, before the introduction of the universal pale blue uniform, was a creation truly marvellous; perhaps that is why they were the last to adopt the new field service dress. It consisted in bright red breeches, sky-blue short tunic with silver buttons, red and white facings distinguishing the chasseur from the dragoon; jack-boots and long spurs; a forage cap of sky blue, with silver-braid badges of rank. My description may not be quite accurate in its details; nevertheless, it is the impression left in my mind of the full-dress uniform of these gallant officers. Also there were present cuirassiers, with their breast-plates and helmets, from the back of which hung long crimson horsehair plumes. One evening at Aire, another officer and myself were taking an after-dinner stroll along the road which leads to Berguette. We were discussing matters far removed from war, when our conversation and the peacefulness of a moonlight summer night were disturbed by a terrific explosion, which appeared to be quite close. It was followed by several more in quick succession. We stood still and, gazing upwards, could see nothing, though we heard the hum of an aeroplane or airship overhead in the distance. Returning to Aire, we found the inhabitants all out in the streets trying to catch a glimpse of the hostile aircraft. "Zeppelin" they murmured with one accord. Owing to the stillness of the night, the buzz of the engine certainly sounded louder than that of the usual aeroplane, which, however, it turned out to be. The damage done was insignificant. One or two bombs landed quite near a neighbouring station, which was being used as an ammunition railhead at the time. An ammunition train was standing loaded in a siding, but was untouched. The night-raider did not prolong his visit for very long, and by bedtime all was again quiet.