It was round about Christmas 1917, and we were resting (?) at "Dirty
Bucket Corner." The Christmas present we all had in view was a return
to the line in front of Ypres.
On the day before we were due to return the Christmas post arrived,
and after the excitement had abated the usual "blueness" settled
in--the craving for home comforts and "Blighty."
My partners in the stretcher-bearing squad included a meek and mild man
(I believe he was a schoolmaster before the war) and a Cockney from
Seven Dials. We used to call him "Townie."
Although the ex-schoolmaster would have had cause in more normal times
to rejoice--for the post contained a letter telling him that he had
become the father of a bonny boy--the news made him morbid.
Of course, we all congratulated him. Meanwhile "Townie" was busy with
a pencil and writing pad, and after a few minutes handed to the new
parent a sheet of paper folded in half. The recipient unfolded it
and looked at it for several seconds before the rest of us became
interested and looked over his shoulder.
The paper was covered with lines, circles, and writing that appeared to
us like "double-Dutch."
"What's this?" the father asked.
"That's a map I drawed fer yer kid. It'll show him where the old
pot and pan is when he's called up," and he concluded with this
afterthought: "Tell 'im ter be careful of that ruddy shell-hole
just acrost there. I've fallen in the perishin' thing twice this
week."--_"Medico" (58th (London) Division), Clapham Common, S.W.11._