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[Page 27]
April 4
34.
Back from a route-march about towards Pop. H.V. shells landing there.
Dull misty threading rain. This afternoon a full marching order parade for kit inspection. If an officer's kit inspection were to happen, at least one of our G.S. wagons would be free for unit gear.
If there's a retreat when we get to the Somme, hope to God the Col. and Interpreter lose their various flash uniforms.
35.
Smith tells a good tale of an Englander. In a railway carriage two Australians and an Englander..
"And you boys are from Australia?"
"Yes sir!"
"Then I'm glad to meet men who have come so far to fight for dear old England!"
"For England? we're fighting for the Empire, and England's only a very little place!"
Sam ends the tale – "Oh poor old – was completely euchred!"
36.
In top bunk, thankful for the night. All dullness with the mist and rain, and a dirty muddy camp.
After tea for a walk by self, through Abeele and back. Tonight even a ballad of Chopin's would stop dead at my ears, and a song of Schumann's would depress me the more.
I'd like to be in a high dull-days-blue room, turning a great black folio of drawings by Ricketts or Beardsley or color sketch of Conder or Whistler or etchings by Brangwin [Brangwyn] or Pennel [Pennell], and the light two high solitary candles in silver candlesticks, then the Chopin melody, and H. playing, but then I'd leave the folio, and when the melody lingers …
Damn this bloody war!
To bed to read, "Lazily she lingered –". Hope Austin Clarke soon publishes some more poetry.
Rumour of the 2nd being by Dixmude, and the Boche reorganising and massing on the Somme for new attacks. No rumouring lately of the 3rd or 4th, but last night sorrow in the hut – Sam W. said he'd heard that the 35th Batt. had been wiped out.
April 5
37.
A wet dirty day, no parade blown – after the five minutes.
Gave to Clarrie "Songs before Sunrise" and received back "The Renaissance".
I wish I were of the bearers again: A. Tent sub. is only bearable while Les is here, the three others constitute the most ridiculous clique of the unit, their world is their own and their charm is for and amongst themselves alone. "Mother" with her Reubenesque buttocks and affectedly girlishly motherly manner is the least ridiculous, possessing some sense of humour.