PTE

ARTERS AND ST. PO

were in a pretty fir-wood, and consisted of beautifully camouflaged little huts. The guns were booming a few miles off, but everything was very peaceful there, and the dinner was excel

was terrific. The young 2nd Lieutenant advised me to take the men I wanted to draw and to go to the other side of the embankment. He said that there was no one there and that I could work in peace, and he was right. The noise from our batteries immediately gave me a bad headache, but apparently the Boche did not res

wo months

wo months

omplain. That bloke over there h

rs; some walking; worn, sad and dirty-all stumbling along in the glare. The General spoke to each as they passed. I noticed that their faces had no change of expression. Their eyes were wide open, the pupils very small, and their mouths always sagged a bit. They seemed like men in a dream, hardly realising where they

art. Here I met Laboreur, a Frenchman, who was acting as interpreter-a very good artist. I think his etchings are as good as any line work the war has produced. A most amusing man. We ha