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[Page 272]

In the Trenches.
Sunday, 1st. July 1917.

My dear Parents/.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Hullo! Fritz is sending some long distance shrapnel over our dug out.
"Stretcher Bearers! Stretcher Bearers!" I heard the cry and poking my head out of our dug out espied a white faced runner coming towards our Aid Post. "What's the matter lad?" The doctor has just been hit near battalion head quarters, he is lying face down on the duck walks. Snatching a bag of dressings I hurried after the runner. When we reached the spot the Colonel and Adjutant were assisting the doctor to a sitting position. He was bleeding freely from the head. I assisted him into the nearest dug out and found that the wound was only slight, about three inches long and an inch deep. I soon

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