on our lines & on the other hand away across the valley to other slopes. Looking away across these slopes it seems for miles the ground is all shell marked as if some gigantic disease has left its scars on the face of nature.
Nature has done her best to cover the confusion The acres of shell ploughed fields saturated with human blood have been covered with a coat of green grass & out of the shed blood of men the red flowers seem to have come The crimson poppies fringe the shell holes & grow up through the tangled wires Blue corn flowers & white marigolds weave the old Tricolour of Britain over the gory field of victory in melancholy liveliness
The soldiers life is beyond the imagination of the outside. That he is in constant danger when in the line is not an unexpected experience but the discomforts with the danger and the