'B.E.F., _March_.
'MY DEAR PAMELA--I am kicking my heels here at an engineer's
store, waiting for an engineer officer who is wanted to plan
some new dug-outs for our battery, and as there is no one to
talk to inside except the most inarticulate Hielander I ever
struck, I shall at last make use of one of your little
oddments, my dear, which are mostly too good to use out
here--and write you a letter on a brand new pocket-pad, with a
brand new stylo.
'I expect you know from Arthur about where we are. It's a
pretty nasty bit of the line. The snipers here are the
cleverest beasts out. There isn't a night they don't get some
of us, though our fellows are as sharp as needles too. I went
over a sniping school last week with a jolly fellow who used to
hunt lions in Africa. My hat!--we have learnt a thing or two
from the Huns since we started. But you have to keep a steady
look-out, I can tell you. There was a man here last night in a
sniper's post, shooting through a trench loophole, you
understand, which had an iron panel.
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