12th November (1918)

On trek again all day – fine, clear, cold weather – passed through many small towns and villages, finally pulling up where we were stationed the night before I went on leave (Quievy).  Billeted in a deserted farm house and have secured a fine spring mattresses.  Hear that the German Fleet is in revolt, that She is torn with internal troubles, and that the Kaiser, “Clown Prince”, and Hindenburg, have “done a bunk”.  It really seems that the end has come.

Johnny Johnson, the cheerful boy with the contagious laugh, was killed by a stray rifle bullet, a few days before my return.  Everywhere signs of repatriation of French civilians.  Passed a whole party of both sexes this morning – they were going, so they told me, “a l’église” – a very battered one no doubt to a thanks-giving service.

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