Am sitting in a Red Cross Motor bound for I don’t know where. The same innards again. I consider myself hard done by, as last night’s dinner was the best I’ve ever seen in the army – ham, potatoes and cauliflower galore. Couldn’t look at it. To my astonishment this morning when I went for medicine, the Dr. coolly kicked me out on half an hour’s notice.
5.p.m. (Division Rest Station) At a village a couple of miles further on. We seem to be occupying a set of farm buildings. This is a N.Z. “joint”. So far I have been in a dazed state, listening to the unremitting din of a large gramophone churning out music-hall stuff. My diet is soup and dry toast. There are a number of ‘Dinks’* here. They seem to have been having a pretty rough time in the trenches – wet through for days on end.
* ‘The Dinks’ was a nickname for the New Zealand Rifle Brigade (Earl of Liverpool’s Own), short for “the Fair Dinkums”.
Walk March 
Lincoln just keeps contributing.
Googled “Dinks”:
The New Zealand Rifle Brigade – nicknamed “the Dinks”, short for “the Fair Dinkums” .
Always thought that was an Aus expression. Obviously thieved by the Kiwis!
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Thanks Denis. I’ve updated the post with that information. I couldn’t possibly say who were the better thieves in WW1, Australian or Kiwi soldiers!
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We are renowned for our innocence.
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