Sunday, 16th August (1918)

After tea I accompanied “Alphonso” to the town.  Alphonso, so christened by a big Waikato boy, is a nice youth with a Lancashire brogue.  When we came in view of the church I ventured to draw it and, very soon, a dozen youngsters crowded round and gasped “Dessin! L’eglise!”.  Alphonso was much interested and wants to come sketching and try his own hand.  We poked about the town and then ascended to the church, which we found open and empty.  It struck me as a being a fine structure both within and without, built of stone which time has mellowed into delicate greys and blues.  The triple altars seemed very fine and the stained glass windows above them particularly rich.  There are also several large figures of Christ.  Half obliterated mural carvings and inscriptions over the tombs of medieval warriors showed the great age of the building.  I am now “ordinary” and “conval” again.  Alphonso on the other hand, though outwardly presentable has given evidence of the concealment of certain “cells” that may lengthen his incarceration.

The Hun dropped some very big bombs over Doulens way last night.  There is an aerodrome hereabouts, that he often tried to attack, but he is always met with such swarms of our big wasps that he has to bolt for it – (By the way a wasp stung me on the elbow the other day and I had an egg there for a few hours).

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