THE BATTLE OF FRANCE

front of us: we patrolled it and poked about among
the bushes, but could find nothing/

The wood was full of pheasants, partridges, and
rabbits...

'As it's forbidden to shoot/ the Major said, *I had
a boomerang sent from England. You know the
sort of thing, an Australian weapon which comes
back to the feet of the thrower. But unfortunately
I'm not very good at it, and I missed the pheasant
and nearly cracked my own skull/

Memories
By the time we got back from the lines we had
spent several long hours in the mud and the cup of
tea that was offered us was very welcome indeed.
The Colonel joined us again. It was not hard to
understand, when you saw him, why his was a
brilliant regiment. He was a man still young: alive,
confident, and of great personal charm. And with the
major we fell inevitably to talking of the war of 1914
which, bound as it is to their youth, assumes an aura
of enchantment in the memory of those men of
forty-five.
1 have/ said the Colonel, 'few finer memories
than that of our last attack on Ypres in September,
1918. For a long time that circle of hills had been
for us a magic, insuperable barrier, and then at long
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