trees, and to think momentarily of the "poor devils" left behind to take
our place, and go on doing just what we had been at. Then, finally,
getting far enough away to forget, songs and jokes took us chirping
along, past objects which soon became our landmarks in the days to come.
On we went, past estaminets, shrines and occasional windmills, down
the long winding road for about four miles, until at last we reached our
billets, where the battalion willingly halted and dispersed to its
various quarters. I and my machine-gun section had still to carry on,
for we lived apart, a bit further on, at the Transport Farm. So we
continued on our own for another mile and a half, past the estaminet at
Romerin, out on towards Neuve Eglise to our Transport Farm. This was the
usual red-tiled Belgian farm, with a rectangular smell in the middle.




CHAPTER VI

THE TRANSPORT FARM--FLEECED BY THE
FLEMISH--RIDING--NEARING CHRISTMAS


It was about 9 p.m. when we turned into the courtyard of the farm. My
sergeant saw to the unlimbering, and dismissed the section, whilst I
went into the farm and dismantled myself of all my tackle, such as
revolver, field-glass, greatcoat, haversacks, etc.

My servant had, of course, preceded me, and by the time I had made a
partial attempt at cleaning myself, he had brought in a meal of sorts
and laid it on the oilcloth-covered table by the stove. I was now joined