Just behind the line and halfway down the slope of the hill was the small village of Tryon, where there was a public wash-house. A large shell had pitched there, but never exploded; its weight was not less than one hundred and twenty pounds. There was another on the roadway, and two or three of them in the valley: one stood up on its base. We were down there one day getting wood, and a chum of mine put his foot on it, knocking it over. An Officer passing at the time remarked: "You would have looked well if that thing had gone off!" My chum did not wait to hear any more--he was off. That valley, when we left it, was like a pepper-box top--simply perforated every few yards. How we managed to remain alive on the Aisne the first week was simply a mystery. Food was scarce; and once we had a single loaf issued out between a hundred men. We tossed for it, the winner to receive the lot, the others going without. After the first week we were much better supplied, having bread or biscuits, with a ration of cheese or bacon, but precious little of that; and oftentimes I tossed for the lot and lost all! Fortunately there were plenty of potatoes and carrots in the ground--these we dug up, boiling them, and, after straining the water off, partook of them with a slice of cold corned beef. Some would boil the beef with the potatoes, thereby getting the salt from the beef into the potatoes: this we called "bully stews." Our Division, I believe, took the extreme right of the British line on the Aisne; anyway, the French were joining us. They were very quiet by day, but as soon as darkness set in they would start a rapid fire all along their line, our boys remarking: "The French have got the wind up." Our orders were not to fire on any account, but to use the bayonet. At night every other man in the front line was posted as sentry, doing one hour, after which the alternate men would do an hour. This continued until daybreak, when sentries were lowered to one in three. The third night after taking the Aisne we expected an attack from the enemy, and the whole Regiment stood to till morning. It was truly beautiful--it rained incessantly, and one could not see more than a yard in front of one's nose! That night a man of the Black Watch came in having been left out since Monday's battle: he had nearly every toe shot off and was almost blind. He had--so he told us--been in one of the boilers of the beet-sugar factory, and a German had fired several shots into the boiler, killing some more men who were in there with him. A Guardsman also came in, shot all over. On the fourth night I was allotted a nice job. My Section Sergeant, coming to me just after dark, said: "I've a nice little job for you." "Oh yes," says I--thinking it was a nice little berth behind with the transport--"what is it?" "Do you know anything about barbed wire?" says he; "just twisting it around stakes?" "I don't know," says I: "I may be able to do it; anyhow I could have a try."