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[Page 75]
nevertheless, from holes in the earth, dark & damp, voices greet us on our way. We come now to the cross roads quite a busy corner where Queensland road creeps meanders round an old watercourse under what were once trailing willows but now are merely stumps & crosses road & saunters on by endless turnings to the front line along plank avenues. The poet says "even the weariest river winds somewhere slow to the sea" so do trenches ultimately reach the fringe of no mans land & the fence of British resistance where human pickets keep a foe at bay till he opens the panels himself & goes forward to victory. Our path turns away to the left into Japan road. We pass a battered dug out where three of our boys were killed in the big strafe a fortnight ago. On the walls of the trench rude dug outs burrow away into the earth. The sign of an occupant is generally a pair of gum boots with feet