Our front line was some miles to the east, and so all that waste of country over which we had fought was now without inhabitants.

We left the motor near Courcellette and walked over the fields to the old trenches where the First Brigade had made their attack.

It was a dreary day.

Low clouds hung over the sky and a cold wind blew from the east.

Spring had made very little advance in those wide fields of death, and the grass was hardly green, where there was any grass.