As I write shells from heavy guns are whining overhead, and the roar from the gun’s mouth as well as the roar of shells exploding is behind and before. And (pause!) we are used to it! We are used to raining; used to going without washes for days; used to driving German columns back; used to mud, cold nights, and a terrific quantity of detail that varies from day to day. We have a knack of sticking to what we gain, and there you can feel proud of us all. For we ought to be swamped by superiority of numbers and guns. But our methods under fire are, if not perfect, very good. We are officered by excellent men, and we can _feel_ led. You will understand: _A Private of the Bedfordshire Regiment_. Walnuts and Guards Out here I have seen the finest and saddest sights of my life. You see some amusing incidents as well. The Germans were shelling a field opposite to us for an unknown reason, for there were only a few dead cows there. Some of our chaps were getting walnuts, and the German shells were knocking walnuts down and the men were picking them up. During the first day of the battle here two of our companies were acting as right-flank guard to the brigade, and we encountered the Kaiser’s famous Prussian Guards. We were greatly outnumbered, and our commanding officer told us that we killed five of theirs to one of ours. They were finely built fellows and a great height: _Lance-Corpl. J. Ryall, 1st King’s Royal Rifles_. Banging Away When I opened your parcel we were banging away, and I thought how different a place it was tied up in. The fags--what a treat!--the chocolates, papers, and pipe. The last, by the way, is worth quids, for the troops have just had an issue of tobacco, and not many pipes are available; they get lost or broken. One thing we are short of, and that is matches. We all mark time on someone lighting up, and there’s a great rush on that one match: _A Trooper of the Royal Horse Guards_. All’s Fair! They say all is fair in love and war, but it’s awful to see those deadly shells flying over our head and sometimes putting some of our pals out of action. But, thank God, the wounded are picked up as soon as possible, and treated with every care that both women and men nurses can provide. In fact, I have seen men who have been badly wounded with a smile on their faces as though nothing had happened, and even while I am writing these few words under difficulty our boys are laughing and joking and singing as if we were at a picnic, and I am sure they feel quite as happy as if they were at one in reality: _Pte. B. Marshall, 1st Batt. Loyal North Lancashires_. Unnerving!