Easter Day – spent I am afraid somewhat unconventionally. The start was good: a Celebration at 6.30 AM in my bed-orderly-Room – the Intelligence Officer – Hewson – and myself forming the Congregation. Hewson is, I believe, a new name to you – he came to us only a month or two ago. Aged I should imagine about 38 or 39. He calls himself 29, and has the spirit of 25. He first of all enlisted in the Royal Welsh Fusiliers, and was out her for some time in the ranks with them. Then he got his Commission and came to us. A good sound man, he is one of the most conscientious soldiers I have met – nothing is too much trouble for him. Incidentally he is imperturbable which is a most tremendous asset. I don’t think as a matter of fact he very much cares what happens to him – his affections were all devoted to one girl and she died quite recently. Next came breakfast and with it the “Times” with the news of Godsall’s death. I am awfully sorry to see this – he was the best soldier we ever had in the Brigade, and there are a thousand and one things which I still do which are relics of my friendship with him. He was a good sportsman, a brave soldier – and above all – a perfect Gentleman. I shall always think of him as the Model Regimental Officer. Although I knew him as a Staff Officer I learnt more of the attitude, ideas and spirit of the Regimental Officer from him than from anyone else I have ever met before or since. After breakfast I left our present abode, walked a mile or two and then rode to out G.M. Stores and had a bath and a clean change – very necessary as we have been in or about trenches for some time now, and look like continuing to be so for some time to come yet. The weather is typically April – several heavy showers throughout the day, and in the intervals some most excellently bright sunshine. I hope we have no more reversions to frosts or any other of the horrible attributes to winter. The battle seems to be going very well, and the people of Boschland must be getting somewhat terrified at the train loads of wounded which keep pouring into the country. His effort south of Arras was a most conspicuous failure, and though a small thing in itself there is little doubt in my mind that it was the prelude to a very much larger affair which has consequently had to be postponed. No time for more.