We have had a pretty rough time lately. Last night was the first for ten days that I have had a roof over my head. The weather has been atrocious--pouring rain and driving, cutting snow--but it did not get through my overcoat, which is richly caked with mud. We have had a fortnight's fighting and have marched back now from the firing line for a short rest to refit. It meant two days' marching through roads and fields ankle deep in clinging, porridgy mud, but we were all glad enough to put up with any hardship so long as we got away from the strain of flying shells and bullets. In the trenches we lost some more of our men, but not many. I just wish you could see our battalion now; what a change from the crowd that used to march through London. Every man, almost, has a beard, and you could not imagine the dirty, bedraggled crowd we are. The strain of watching through the night in the trenches is pretty awful. The nights were pitch black, and the rain came pouring down, making the trenches an awful mess. One chap gave a loud cry in his sleep. Thinking it came from the wood in front, I blazed away. We sent a burial party out in front of us one morning. There must have been hundreds of Germans lying there, with thousands further on. All we could do was just to cover them with earth. It was a horrible sight, and it is impossible for you folks at home to realize anything of the awfulness of this war. This awful pace surely cannot last long. But despite all the discomfort, I would not have liked to miss the chance of doing my part here. Nov. 20. The Prince of Wales visited us yesterday. We are billeted in a cafe, and he came in rubbing his hands with the cold. He looked jolly well, and has a fine, healthy, clear complexion. We have been living in the lap of luxury lately. Yesterday was just like Christmas Day. We were inundated with parcels from home, and the room is one litter of all sorts of comforts, and any amount of sweets, shortbread, cake, &c. I cannot recollect two such happy days as these have been. You can have no idea how all these luxuries are appreciated after living on "bully" and biscuits. We have a perfect avalanche of cigarettes and tobacco. We had a bit of a panic this morning, as we were under orders to move at any moment, but by good luck it did not come off, and we are looking forward to a few more days' rest. Our last week in the trenches was a picnic compared with our first experience. This is a grand, free life, a sight better than mooching around the city. I'm just going to have a tot of rum now and turn in--it warms the cockles of one's heart and makes one sleep like Rip Van Winkle. Nov. 29.