15 December 1917

We had a most successful football match the day before yesterday which we all went to see. The Major – old John Burnett and I rode home together across country: he is always a bit wild as soon as he gets mounted and on a bit of turf.   He gave an enormous yell, of the type known I believe as a “View Halloa” – shouted something about all after the old dog fox – and galloped off.  I yelled after him to be careful of obstacles but it was of no avail and of course my mare went away after him like greased lightning.  Next moment we were both properly tied up in a circular wiry entanglement (fortunately not barbed), and it took the best part of a quarter of an hour to get the horses out.   Even then John was quite irrepressible.  However we got home all right without further mishap.  We are now in trenches but if nothing untoward happens we shall be out at rest for Christmas Day so ought to manage a most excellent time, and have a good dinner – not so much from the food point of view as the company.

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