“Oh, we shall meet him in Pigeon Wood. He’s as pleased as Punch at having got beyond the infantry. First time it has ever been done. Took a bit of doing, too, with the largest size of Toc-emma.”

We entered Pigeon Wood after a long walk over wild chaos, and, guided by the officer and sergeant, I dived down into a deep dugout just captured from the Germans, who were two hundred yards away in Kite Copse.

“What cheer, Charlie!” shouted the young officer.

“Hullo, fellow-my-lad!⁠ ⁠… Come in. We’re getting gloriously binged on a rare find of German brandy.”

“Topping and I’ve brought a visitor.”

Capt. Charles Lowndes⁠—“dear old Charlie”⁠—received us most politely in one of the best dugouts I ever saw, with smoothly paneled walls fitted up with shelves, and good deal furniture made to match.