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[Page 19]
October 3
11.
Yesterday up to Menin Road, we passed by the old square of Ypres, and the stark ruins of the Cloth Hall. Some more of its remaining beauty I saw today. Alongside of it yesterday for the first time, seeing it, I had the same emotion as when I'd July's cable from Mother. Even in its terrible ruin there are faint tracings of its old loveliness, and in the magnificent standing of part of its shell'd tower there is all the pride of its old wonder. Passing through this afternoon one 13" shell burst in its ruins.
12.
Last night up to the Canal dugouts a second time, with Ted Ackland.
The roads were almost lonely, the traffic lighter than I've seen it. The sky was only cloudy, with no promise of this morning's early rain. We watched the horizons anxiously for the shrapnell barrage that warned of the taubes approaching, but we'd delivered our rations & reached camp long before the bombing hereabouts commenced for which 'Laus Deo'.
Oct. 3
13.
Entry 197 of Journal 3.
Two trips of yesterday were with him, one to the Canal and one through Ypres to Menin Road, and the second to the canal at night. And in my first impressions I was all right.
On the Ypres road once he pulled up – to pick up from the dust a clip of cartridges. He hadn't any ammunition, & he might want some if one of his horses got knocked. "You're supposed to report their wounding to the nearest Vet, but I'd sooner shoot 'im than let them live in agony!" And the language of an A.S.C. driver is always of colour – mostly of lurid colour: his was under splendid control, and "useless carrier" the most used. Slips in plenty there were, but they were quiet and not ugly. Souvenirs were mentioned, and the wounding of one of the chaps looking for them, "My Ma'd sooner me than 50 souvenirs!" and he used the word Ma! And right through his company was good and proved him possessing a fine nature, unselfish and sympathetic, filled with the love of his horses, and a longing for home.