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[Page 66]
Thursday 1st April 1915. Last Monday we were reviewed by Sir Ian Hamilton, and my impressions of the old soldier, were of a little wizened man on a big horse, with a habit of stooping forward & driving his questions home with great vigour, and a keen glance that wandered everywhere & seemed to take in everybody. On Tuesday we departed from our usual routine & went forth into the country. After the dry dust of the desert everybody greatly appreciated the change. Through long avenues of green trees & even Casuarinas, the long khaki line threaded its way, and the scent of the gre eucalypts was a real breath of home. We halted amidst a group of native villages, the dirt of which was indescribable. Mud walls with a roof made as far as could be judged of straw, no doors but just a w hole in the wall, and the inside apparently a mingled mass of human beings, fowls and