You have a sort of want-to-go-home-to-your-mother feeling at the start,
but that soon goes when you get into your stride. When your pal gets
wiped out at your side you feel anxious to get your own back: _Private
W. A. Cast_.
Holed!
My hat has six holes punctured by shrapnel. One shot carried half of
the badge away, another caught the wire rim and doubled it up like a
hat-pin to five inches. I have had up to a sovereign offered for it,
but I am sticking to it, you bet: _Pte. Cawley, 3rd Coldstream Guards_.
Jammy!
Now about this jam. If you get a big pot you’ll carry it along, and
like as not get it smashed. Then your whole kit’s muckered up. Likewise
if you get it in a tin you’ll open it and take what you want, but
you’ll have no lid to put on, so you’ll leave the rest behind: _Pte.
Moss, of the Hussars_.