...[W]e were sent...to an untouched and sociable village called Bollezeele.... It was near St Omer. There we ate and slept excellently, and for myself, I was in the house of the local doctor, whose talk was in the best style of wisdom and tolerance. We endlessly played the gramophone, and we had concerts at which the metre and tune of "England was England when Germany was a pup," served for numerous additional verses of personalities. "Harrison" was rhymed thus: "The listening posts they think it hot, the noisy way he carries on," and "Allen": "who issued the troops with a small tot of rum and reserved for himself One Gallon." << less