The noise of hundreds of shells bursting heard from two or three miles away, is a most peculiar and sinister one. It’s rhythm keeps varying; it has a crumbling, chattering, gibbering, crunch, crunch, mumble, mumble, effect, that I can only describe as wicked. We have orders now to dig in and make our bivvies bomb-splinter proof.
Went to the mad “quack” today to get some pills; he really is most amusing and sometimes quite witty – whatever you say he contrives to trip you up.
Walk March 