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[Page 59]
to restore my circulation activity. However, slept very well considering. There was a constant stream of men on the peregrinating racket. The sixpence a day allowance, like most things, starts well and by slow stages works itself into the category of unsatisfactory. This morning we got 1 ½ eggs per man; we have missed butter a couple of times lately (this notwithstanding the fact that the coy was lately using a quantity of Aus Gift butter); bread is not always as plentiful as it might be; and the very syrup is of inferior quality. Sometimes we got 5 small sardines between 2 men. At intervals more or less regular, according to circumstances, we get porridge or rice with raisins. 4 tins of condensed milk are thought fit to supply a sufficient quantity of lactility to modify the opprobrious liquid supplied to us under the name of tea. The writer can recall [indecipherable] glorious times when we revelled amidst unlimited quantities of tinned fish, serious jam and 4 or 5 eggs at one time. Coming to the regimental allow rations we have bread (very hard, very stale, and very heavy) and made of exceedingly inferior flour. Then there is the inedible "stoo" which would baffle an analytical chemist. Whenever it is exceptionally
outrageous a quantity of curry is put in to palliate our palates lest [indecipherable] be done. When the food is brought in half the men instantly become temporarily insane. The dixies are besieged, the passages between the tables blocked up, and there is a wild medley of waving arms and overflowing tins and basins, excited individuals spill hot tea & soup over other excited people, the orderlies bustle drag and ladle, the ord corporal roars at everybody & is taken notice of by nobody, and profanity, irritation, and general cussedness prevails generally for about 5 minutes. The others sit at their tables & saying little, think much. These lot habitually congratulate themselves that they are not as the other people &c &c. then there is the 6 ration to be drawn. This operation brings home forcibly the truth of that grand old saying which is to the effect that all things come to those who wait. He who is unlucky knows to find himself at the end of the line also finds time to realise the truth. We have been having a lot of trench digging lately. This is a grand pastime. Its one supreme advantage (in the sand) is that it is an occupation that never gives out. As long as you are content to throw it out