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<p>a4701781.html</p><p>4/ fitted out with a hand pump they are soon emptied . . . It seemed an almost endless march along the narrow "duckboards" in the dark ere we reached the open, across which we had to traverse in order to reach the post in front of the Hun. I will not "dig up" the recollections of our spasm en-route or the term we had to serve, only to say that it all ended as God willed it - "OK" . . . As we were coming out to this place, who should pass me in the communication Trench but young "Codger" Fergusson, whose Batt<sup>n</sup>. has taken our place. I hadn't time or opportunity to say any more than "Good Luck" owing to the narrowness of the trench & the fact that we were all loaded up with enormous heavy gear etc. & so many behind & in front coming & going. Nevertheless it was most pleasing to see that "Snowy" was then "A1" & I hope he remains so. He sends regards (etc) to you & to all old acquaintances "Down Under". His passing remark was that bro. Ralph was still going strong down Baghdad way. Good!</p><p>Winter is @ last losing it's fierceness & Spring seems to be nearly on us. Couldn't help some very deep thoughts during the hours prior to, & just after dawn while "standing to" in our outpost "Pill Box" - one of many which the "Square Heads" have left to us to sleep in & watch him from - during our exciting term there. The <s>the</s> musings were caused by the birds - yes, just our little feathered friends, & all that remains to remind me that nature is still supreme - & what thoughts gee!! There they were, skylarks & nightingales, (I think that's what they were) down in that dreadful region of "No Man's Land", somewhere in Belgium, chirping, tittering & singing most beautifully as if life, even amongst the foot high tree-trunk remnants, where "whizz bangs", "heavies", Trench Mortars, "Minnies", gas-shells & bullets with</p><p> </p><p>PTO</p><p>6</p><p>2 [in bottom left hand margin]</p>