Once more we are really at work again, & it is work with a vengeance. As I believe I have said before grenades & stores of all kinds are now added to my various other little cares, & they do not give me much time for amusing myself. Yesterday was quite an enjoyable time. To start with spring seems to have come at last & yesterday she put in her first appearance. It was hot & bright & quite hard to believe that there really was a war on. I had previously decided on a day in trenches so arose fairly early & sallied forth. There was a simply splendid view & I could just discern in the distance the Church tower of one of our old familiar friends – a town at which we used to congregate. The trenches were of course still very wet, & in some places I paddled along very nearly waist deep in horrible thick mud. The men of course are not at all in that state of liquidity, I was trying to find my way along some long disused communication trenches, to spots remote & isolated, said, in fact, by the people from whom we took over, to be unapproachable except at night. They are by no means really so to one who does not mind getting a little dirty about the boots.
Today has again been glorious as far as the weather is concerned, & we are hoping again for the same tomorrow, when I am again on a trench visit. This morning I worried around trying to arrange for stores & grenades for the battalion in the line. We have a good chance of using plenty of grenades in this part; the Bosch & ourselves are almost within hand shaking distance all the way along. There is a good deal of indiscriminate anarchism every day, in which we take great care to give back at least six for every one we receive. Of course we hope for the best, but if our efforts have not been more successful than those of Brer Bosch, he has not had many hurt so far. We in fact have not lost anyone to the Bosch bombers – (here I touch wood.) This afternoon I rode over, a matter of four miles or so, to see the distribution of stores & other such likes, & get them started on their way trenchwards. I rode another of the signalling officers horses, not the little black animal that stumbled me over her head on a previous memorable occasion. This beast was rather nice to ride but had a most powerful mouth, & almost pulled my arms out in my endeavours to stop it’s wild cross country career. I shall most certainly ride it again when I get the chance. I came across one rather amusing thing during my little tour yesterday. I was calling on an officer in a rather bad part of the line & found him at the bottom of a sort of tunnel which he was using as a sort of dug-out. He looked very miserable & had his fur coat doing duty for a pair of trousers – one leg in each sleeve. The reason for this somewhat curious rig – rather of the Wild West type – was as follows. – He was out at night by himself just having a look round when he suddenly ran into five Germans who chased him. He ran for his life & for some time was completely lost, constantly having a nightmare-like time. At last he saw some sort of a trench ahead and jumped, or rather plunged in, for it turned out to be shoulder deep in water. When I saw him his underwear was still being dried. The “Germans” were subsequently found to be some men of another Coy who had chased him thinking he was a Bosch!!