Walford: Sunday. More frost and another cold east wind blowing. I relieved Cruikshank at the guns. Bailley, who had come up from the wagon line for breakfast walked up with Suttie and myself. We shot the whole day, loosing off 1089 rounds at the Bosche. Nothing thrilling happened.
Bee: Another fearfully raw day. Wrote most of the morning. After lunch went on to D 26 to hear what news I could get out of Sanger, as he has just returned from leave. Heard about Uncle and Spud Ritchie, who were wounded on the Somme. I went up into the hedge in front of their battery to see if I could see Stuff Redoubt, but it was too misty. It was the first time I had watched a 4.5 fire and I was surprised to see how far you could follow the shell in the air. After afternoon tea we came back and visited Kellagher, who is moving up into his new position 1,000 yards from the front line. A very unhealthy spot, I think.
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