Wednesday (29 August 1917)

Have been scratching up weeds with an antediluvian implement supposed to be a hoe, and catalogued as such in the camp inventory.  Easy job, let off early.  Same thing on this afternoon.  Being a gunner has its compensations.  Take this fatigue for instance, we chop round with our hoes and things, but the N.C.O. in charge has to stand about mooning.  We are still in Merrie England – our Officers went straight to the front, N.C.O.s have to revert to Gunner when they get to France.  We can’t get any lower.

10. p.m.  Started off by stopping a fearful blast from the orderly officer for not standing to attention whilst Retreat was sounding.  Walked to Fleet.  Walked back by half-moonlight and finished off by nearly being late – in fact just escaped C.B. twice over.

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