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[Page 52]
Romarin. Received word that I am to go to the Pits tonight. Though tense I am glad to go.
Thursday, 6.
Left at 2 a.m. for the Pits with Sgt. Whitworth. Sgt. --- ---- hopelessly drunk---standing in middle of road---raving---as we passed. His gun and Detachment left without him. We got the Tommies' guns out and put ours in. At 4 a.m. we commenced building up parapet of sandbags in front of guns, and strewed twigs about to hide tracks. Then bed. The dug-out smelt horrible, but sprinkled sassafras and lysol. Up at 10 a.m. Afternoon fired eight rounds-ranging. I have been nearly deaf since and even tonight my ears have not ceased ring. Also we dug-out---six loads of rubbish, underclothing etc.
Friday, 7.
Ronnie Whitpain and I built three new bunks, removing the old ones; also baled out the drainage pit. It was filled with stagnant black water. The tunnel leading to it, running from the dug-out, was putrid with old scraps and urine. This is not the first instance of the Tommies---many there are such as these. Illiterate, with some uncouth, provincial burr---they cannot help that. All that we have struck have been externally clean, on parade, by force of military discipline, but are, in reality, filthy beyond the most vivid description. They live in an atmosphere that reminds one of the hold of a horse-boat.
Saturday, 8.
This morning German fire---5.9 breaks out. Rumours that we may move out tonight. 4 p.m.---I received orders to pack up and go to Wagon Line. 5 p.m. Whole battery (except guns) left for destination unknown. Arrived at Silvestre about 10.30 p.m. Felt tip top until I went to the barn, and then had to go out and vomit. I had had had nothing to eat since or drink since 1 p.m.
Sunday, 9.