* * * * *
To-day we are off for the Somme. I looked out anxiously with the dawn,
and saw streaks of white mist lying over the village and the sun
struggling through. But as we start on the road to Amiens, the mist
gains the upper hand, and we begin to be afraid that we shall not get
any of those wide views from the west of Albert over the Somme country
which are possible in clear weather. Again the high upland, and this
time _three_ tanks on the road, but motionless, alack! the nozzles of
their machine guns just visible on their great sides. Then a main road,
if it can be called a road since the thaw has been at work upon it.
Every mile or two, as our chauffeur explains, the pave "is all burst up"
from below, and we rock and lunge through holes and ruts that only an
Army motor can stand. But German prisoners are thick on the worst bits,
repairing as hard as they can. Was it perhaps on some of these men that
certain of the recent letters that are always coming into G.H.Q. have
been found? I will quote a few of those which have not yet seen
the light.
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