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[Page 244]

we marched at a good steady pace with 10 minutes breathing space every hour, till 1.30 & I can tell you no one was sorry when we reached our destination Wiloroy Wallory Bailon, our pack straps cut into our backs like pieces of string & the sweat nearly blinds one its not the distance that counts its the load we have to carry, when we got on top of a fairly high hill we could hear quite plainly the guns booming in the distance, the old familiar sound again we had been out of earshot of them for nearly a week, & no one was sorry to miss them, as we were coming into the village we passed some Tommies on the road & some of them were wearing spiked German helmets, trophies of some scrap they have had with them.
The billeting part of this town is

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