I am down at the Transport Lines for one night as my Company is in support. The gramophone is playing “Un peu d’amour,” bringing back memories of Sloley at Christmas 1914. Music is awful for reminding you of lovely times…. This land of France is most excessively boring, and I am fed up with the war. To think that at this moment the last scene of “Bubbly” is being played, and everyone is preparing to go and try to find a cab. Time 10.45 p.m. All the fine ladies in their fine dresses, enjoying life to the full, and flirting with penniless subalterns to the detriment of both. The contrast is what amazes me. I never knew what war was like when I first came out; now I am bored and have seen enough. << less