The mud that claimed lives:

"This part of the line was up to then the worst in which I had been. I refer more particularly to the mud and water. All the land had been very churned up by shell explosions, and for many days the weather had been wet. It was not possible to dig for more than about a foot without coming to water. Mud is a bad description as the soil was more like a thick slime than mud. When walking one sank several inches in and owing to the suction, it was difficult to withdraw the feet. The consequence was that men who were standing still or sitting down got embedded in the slime and were unable to extricate themselves. As the trenches were so shallow men had to stay where they were all day. Most of the night we had to spend digging and pulling men out of the mud. It was only the legs that got stuck; the body being lighter and larger lay on the surface. To dig a man out the only way was to put duck boards on each side of him and then work at one leg, digging poking, and pulling, until the suction was relieved. Then a strong pull by three or four men would get one leg out and work would be begun on the other. Back to Battalion Headquarters was about 800 yards. At night it would take a “runner” (i.e. an orderly taking messages) about two hours to get there. Going to and from Battalion Headquarters from the line, one would hear men who had missed their way and got stuck in the mud calling out for help that often could not be sent to them. It would be useless for only one or two men to go to help them, and practically all the troops were in the front line and had, of course, to stay there. All the time the Boche dropped shells promiscuously about the place. He who had a corpse to stand or sit on was lucky."

Shooting and pipe smoking:

"I then saw the tin helmet of one of the machine gunners; at this helmet I fired with my revolver and do not think I can have missed. I then had a shot at a man who appeared the other side of the gun, I think I got him also. Then a head and neck appeared where the first man had been and I had my third shot. Then some blighter in the trench just opposite me threw a stick bomb at us or me; it exploded just by my feet; he was a sitter and I got him also with my revolver. By this time things were happening a bit too rapidly to remain clear in my memory but there was one young chap I remember very clearly shooting in the back as he was running away but I forget whether I got him with a revolver or a rifle. My next recollection is that I had no more shots left in my revolver and was still not yet in the trench. As I had no intention of getting into the trench unarmed I proceeded to unsling the rifle with fixed bayonet I had over my shoulder. I should have mentioned that after my third or fourth shot I found that the bowl of my pipe and the smoke from it was obscuring my line of vision as I was firing slightly downwards all the time. Much to my annoyance, I had to put my pipe in my pocket alight as it was; it was lucky that it did not burn my jacket. Just as I got my rifle working I saw a man in the trench calmly kneeling down and taking careful aim at me. At the moment I saw him he fired. But in some miraculous way he missed."

House flies:

The flies in this part of the line at that time were a perfect plague. They covered everything. In this same Company Headquarters dug-out they were massed on the ceiling like a swarm of bees. These flies made it very difficult to eat as they covered the food one was going to put into one’s mouth. I was fortunate in having muslin net I put over my head when resting. They were filthy, fat, dirty flies that used to swarm round the dead. I had a great loathing for them. When a man was asleep they would settle all round his mouth and over his face. August 27th.In trenches south of Bezantine le Grand. Leave for trench on Mametz Hill. Very wet dug-out, cut out of soft sandstone and all the time water was trickling down the sides and oozing up from the floor. Whilst here we received our parcel post mail. Very strangely I and another officer both received a tin of shortbread from the same shop in Glasgow; evidently both sent off at the same time by different people. Mine was from my then future wife. Living in a soaking wet dug-out we never got dry. The weather was wet and beastly, and, although August, very cold. August 28th.In a trench on Mametz Hill. Very wet and damp.
August 29th.Leave for trench by side of Fricourt Wood. Wet night. Thunderstorm. I forget if we were all very lousy at this time; we were all certainly very wet. The wet weather however had one advantage, and that was that the shells were not nearly so dangerous; they generally buried their noses before they exploded and most of the splinters went upwards.

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