Also a poor mad woman, with a
basket of cakes and chocolate. She used to live in the village
where I'm sitting now--on a few bricks of it, I mean. Then her
farm was shelled to bits and her old husband and her daughter
killed. And nothing will persuade her to go. Our people have
moved her away several times--but she always comes back--and
now they let her alone. Our soldiers indeed are awfully good to
her, and she looks after the graves in the little cemetery. But
when you speak to her, she never seems to understand, and her
eyes--well, they haunt one.
'I'm beginning to get quite used to the life--and lately I have
been doing some observation work with an F.O.O. (that means
Forward Observation Officer), which is awfully exciting. Your
business on these occasions is to get as close to the Germans
as you can, without being seen, and you take a telephonist with
you to send back word to the guns, and, by Jove, we do get
close sometimes!
'Well, dear old Pam, there's my engineer coming across the
fields, and I must shut up.
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