180) Who sleep beneath that ground." Once more, at the end of the month, I paid another visit to Regina Trench, when I was on my way to place a cross over my son's grave in the cemetery at Tara Hill.

By this time, the grass was green, the trenches were filling up and in the cloudless blue sky larks were singing.

The impression of dreariness was passing away, and the wounds on the breast of nature were being healed.
Our life at Bruay as usual was exceedingly pleasant, and the men thoroughly enjoyed the beauty and the freshness of the country.

Games and sports were indulged in and the nightly entertainments in the theatre given by our concert party were most enjoyable.
I shall never forget the happy rides on Dandy down the roads and across the fields to the various battalions and artillery brigades.

At every turn I would meet men whom I knew, and to shake hands with those glorious lads who had done such great things for the world was an honour and a privilege.