Our division (the Third) was on its way from the line for the
long-looked-for rest. We were doing it by road in easy stages.
During a halt a pack animal (with its load of two boxes of "·303")
became restive and bolted. One box fell off and was being dragged
by the lashing. Poor old Nobby Clarke, who had been out since Mons,
stopped the box with his leg, which was broken below the knee.
As he was being carried away one of the stretcher-bearers said, "Well,
Nobby, you've got a Blighty one at last."
"Yus," said Nobby; "but it took a fousand rahnds to knock me
over."--_H. Krepper (late 5th Fusiliers), 62 Anerley Road, Upper
Norwood, S.E. 19._