There is a restriction on the hours of drinking, but when she opens at 6.30 we are just the boys for a pint and a snack of anything that’s going. R’s appetite is almost as large as his feet, which are elevens. A girl in the Parlour is strumming familiar old airs – little boy is talking to R. in broad Lancashire, calling him thee. We had a blow out of bread and jam and finished up with, what do you think? Pickled beetroot and carrot.
In a short lecture by a returned officer, he thought that in some sectors the Hun artillery was quite as effective as ours, but not on the average of the whole front.