The country the other side of the old German line looked refreshingly green, but only traces remained of former supply dumps and camps, of which everything of value had been completely cleared away. The roads, too, had obviously not been subjected to such severe wear and tear as those on our side. The Germans had used light railways running along the roadside in lieu of transport by motor-lorries on the roads themselves. Though the railway lines had been carefully taken up and removed, the sleepers still remained in many places and the lay of the former track was still visible. The devastation and laying waste of the countryside suggested to one’s mind that the enemy did not anticipate having to fight over the same ground again. Perhaps one of the most striking roads on this part of the front is that which goes through Aveluy and runs along the valley of the Ancre to Miraumont. From it can be had a wonderful panorama landscape of former trenches and heavily shelled battlefields. The end of March and beginning of April saw, for a time, at any rate, a return to the more interesting though less comfortable open form of warfare. Cavalry patrols were out on reconnaissances, and in touch with Uhlans and the rearguards covering the German retreat. They were at such places as Miraumont and Bihcourt, and not once, but several times, Brigades marched out in the early hours of the morning "into the blue," spoiling for a big open fight. During this time, one echelon or section of the Supply Column was employed in rationing the troops. The second section was employed on various other jobs, such as stone and road repair material fatigues, and taking up ammunition for the guns. The latter is a particularly interesting job; especially is it so when 9.2-inch howitzer shells compose the load. First of all, there is the loading, at one of the many ammunition dumps. These dumps seem to be everywhere; they spring up like mushrooms in a night and in the most unexpected places. Perhaps on what was once "No-man’s-land," to-day there are enormous stacks of shells silhouetted against the sky. From these dumps the lorries draw their death-dealing loads. The shells are taken from the stacks and piled on to trucks running on a light railway to the edge of a road. Here they are transferred to the motor-lorries. Then there is the journey up to the battery, at snail’s pace, probably, for no vehicle, except a Staff car, must pass another along the —— road. Traffic control officers and mounted military police on the road see to this. Arriving back at your parking ground, you have just swallowed breakfast, only to find that you must go off again almost immediately and repeat the performance. So that, though tired perhaps, you feel you are of a little use, even though it is only the Army Service Corps you are in! Long days and nights, but full of interest, and not infrequently enlivened by a few "souvenirs" from the Hun batteries across the