Snowballing is the order of the day: no one exempt either by rank or sex; had even to eat our meals under a continuous bombardment.
Walk to Bulford village; where the thatched cottages along the riverside, with patches of snow on their brown roofs, formed many a pretty picture, and the fruit trees laden with feathery snow seemed to have anticipated their blossoming time. Had to pass through a snowball barrage put up by youngsters behind a hedge.
I have put in for leave – till 7th April.
Walk March 