The time we spent at Valley Camp, Watou, is duly chronicled in my diary.

"July 21st.

"We got here at 12. Lunch at 2.... My servant Johnson reported sick with gas and departed for hospital; so I asked Sergeant Baldwin to suggest another. He took me to M'Connon. I endorsed the selection. Allen's servant, Parkinson, has also gone to hospital with gas to-day! To bed 10 p.m."

"July 22nd (Sunday).

"Breakfast in bed. Up 9.30. The Colonel had a conference of all officers re training and man-power. Then there was a Church parade in the field at 12.15 p.m. The main points of the padre's sermon were Repentance, Hope, Intention. In the afternoon Dickinson and I went over my platoon roll with the Sergeant-Major (Preston) to see how we stand. He also did the same with the other platoons. After tea I had a walk into the village of Watou and purchased some chocolates. Then dinner. The padre tells me that Archbishop Lang is in Poperinghe to-day.

"Critchley came back from hospital this evening; so he will resume his duties as my servant to-morrow.

"Corporal Flint has died, in hospital, of gas."

"July 23rd.

"Breakfast in bed. Up 7.30. Parade 8. Training during the morning. There were also lectures by company commanders on the forthcoming operations, and a lecture on the compass by Major Brighten. In the afternoon General Stockwell spoke about the forthcoming operations to all officers and N.C.O.'s. His speech was very interesting.... He is to have his Headquarters in Wieltje Dug-out. He said that casualties of this brigade while in Ypres this time had been 26 officers and 470 men. I have been very busy with matters relating to the push all day."

"July 24th.

"Battalion parade 8.30 a.m., followed by lectures on the forthcoming operations and a lecture to officers and N.C.O.'s on field messages by Major Brighten. In the afternoon platoons marched to Poperinghe to bathe at the Divisional Baths in the Square—just by the church, I left Valley Camp with my platoon at 1.45. We marched via St. Janster Biexen to Poperinghe and there bathed. Then I took my N.C.O.'s—Sergeant Baldwin, Corporal Livesey, Lance-Corporals Topping, Tipping, Heap and Hopkinson, and also Sergeant Dawson, to see a model of the battlefield at the Divisional School. We were ages finding it. We went the wrong way. But we eventually went along the Switch Road and found it. It was 6 p.m. by then. So I gave Baldwin, Topping, Tipping and Heap a pass to have tea in Poperinghe. Dawson and Hopkinson did not want one, so they set off back. I went into Poperinghe and had a drink of citron. I felt very tired. Then I set off back to Watou. I came across Dickinson returning on horseback. Then I caught up Sergeant Dawson and Lance-Corporal Hopkinson; and we got on a lorry which took us right as far as St. Janster Biexen. We then walked back to Valley Camp. I had dinner. Then to bed, feeling a little seedy."

"July 25th.

"Breakfast in bed at 8. Dickinson, feeling very bad, stayed in bed. I also felt washed out. I expect it is the gas at last taking effect. At 10 a.m. I set off with one officer and one N.C.O. from each company to reconnoitre the route to Query Camp. Beesley and I with Sergeant Clews and Sergeant Malone went one way; the others went another way. We found ourselves wrong, but eventually got right. It was raining, the route was thick with mud, and I felt very weary. I soon felt done to the world. We had some coffee in a hut on the Poperinghe road, about a mile from the town; then walked on to the Switch Road, right along that and on to the main Poperinghe-Vlamertinghe road. Here Beesley and his sergeant went one way and Sergeant Clews and I went another—right along the main road. We had a drink of citron at a little hut named Villa Franca. Then we turned to the left at Brandhoek Cross Roads, went through B Camp, and eventually reached Query Camp. I felt horribly fatigued and also had a most annoying cold.... Soon Beesley and his sergeant turned up. We had some citron in a cottage here. The Belgian woman who served us said that she had lost her father, mother and three brothers in the war. After this we went along Track 1 and back to the main road. Here we got a motor-lorry which took us through Poperinghe and right back to St. Janster Biexen. We walked back to Valley Camp from there. I really feel done up; and I have a headache in addition to my bad cold—something like influenza. All symptoms of gas! When we got back the rain had ceased and it was quite nice. A new large draft arrived about 6.30; there were two new officers with it—Richard Maxwell Barlow and Kenneth Leslie Smith. Young has also returned to the Battalion. There have been a number of drafts recently, so we are getting up strength again. Young, Barlow and Smith have all been posted to A Company; so, as the B and A Company Mess is joint, they mess with us."

The same day, July 25, I wrote home from Watou as follows:

"Just a line to let you know that I have received all your letters up to July 20 and the parcel for which I thank you very much. I have been simply awfully busy—chiefly with maps and operation orders re coming offensive—and have not been able to write home during the last few days as a result. We are supposed to be resting, but I have hardly a moment to spare. General Stockwell lectured all officers and N.C.O.'s of this Battalion here in the field on Monday afternoon. He said that he was going to tell us everything that he knew himself about the coming battle, but did not tell us anything we did not already know! I do not think he told us all: if he did tell us all then I don't think much of the idea. The General had a cigarette in his mouth and his hands in his pockets the whole time he was speaking; he was quite jovial, cracking jokes all the time. He impressed upon us the importance of sending messages back when we reach our objectives; he said that if we do not do so it will mean his coming up to the front line himself for information 'and I don't want to have to do that,' he laughed, 'but it will come to that if necessary,' he went on in a more serious tone, 'and it will be woe betide the platoon commander whose negligence has brought his brigadier-general's life into danger!' At the conclusion of his speech the General asked whether any of us had any questions to ask. I could have asked one, but I know he would not have answered it; so I remained silent!

"Archbishop Lang was in the big town half-way between here and the front line on Monday, but I did not see anything of him. Nor did I see the Queen when she was inspecting the hospitals there. But I think it very fine of Queen Mary to visit troops within range of the Germans guns as she did.

" ... It is now evening and is quite bright, the sun is shining into the tent where I am writing this. We have been stationed here since July 21, and are now marching back in a few minutes to a camp beyond the above-mentioned town—where I went to reconnoitre this morning.

"You will see that it is impossible to write any reply to 'Bumjo' at present as I have not the time.[9] I also warn you not to get the wind up if you do not hear from me for a week or so. I can quite foresee a period of that length elapsing between my letters now, as before this present week is out we shall be engaged in fighting the great battle of the North. 'Bumjo' will have to wait until we come out of action again. I intend to deal with him and give him the telling-off which his impudence and his treason are asking for after the battle. I hope to have more leisure then! So au revoir!"

These days at Watou, while being days full of work, were not unpleasant. We had plenty to talk about; and, seated on the grass on a summer evening, Joe Roake would make us rock with laughter at his quaint and humorous tales of his experiences when a sergeant at Loos and other battles. Roake was always a great asset to any mess when he honoured it by a visit. He hated Headquarters Mess; he was always ready to jump at any excuse to get away from the society of Colonel Best-Dunkley; and he was never happier than when, over a nice selection of drinks, he was retailing the Colonel's latest sayings and doings. And we, needless to say, were never happier than when listening to him on this most interesting topic! Roake and Humfrey with little "Darky," who was their invariable companion, were always welcome.

It was at this time that news came across that a son and heir had been born to Colonel Best-Dunkley. The event was one of considerable interest, and was widely discussed. "Poor little ——! To think that there's another Best-Dunkley in the world to look forward to!" exclaimed our humorous friend when he heard the news. "Well, when he grows up he will always have the gratification of knowing that his father was a colonel in the Great War!" mused Captain Andrews in a tone which suggested that he had a presentiment that Colonel Best-Dunkley would not survive the coming push. And, somehow—though nobody ever anticipated for a moment that he would win the V.C.—we all discussed the probability of his falling, and always thought that the odds were in favour of his falling. And to be perfectly frank (my object in writing this book is to tell the truth), nobody regretted the probability! If we had really known what kind of a man he was, if we had been able then to fathom beneath the forbidding externals, we might have felt very differently about it. But it is not given to man to know the future or even to discern the heart of his most intimate acquaintance! We only saw in him a man who was as unscrupulous as his prototype Napoleon in all matters which affected his own personal ambition, the petty tyrant of the parade ground, who could occasionally be very agreeable, but of whom all were afraid or suspicious, because none knew when his mood would change. In a few days this man was going to give everybody who knew him the surprise of their lives. Had he any presentiment or intention as to the future himself? I think he had both intention and presentiment. Throughout the whole summer of 1917 his whole heart and soul were absorbed in preparation for the coming push; never did a man give his mind more completely, unstintingly, and whole-heartedly to a project than Best-Dunkley did to the Ypres offensive which was to have carried us to the Gravenstafel Ridge, then on to the Paschendaele Ridge, into Roulers and across the plains of Belgium. He was determined to associate his name indelibly with the field of Ypres; he was determined to win the highest possible decoration on July 31: he knew what the risks were; he had seen enough of war to know what a modern push meant; he had not come through Guillemont and Ginchy for nothing and learnt nothing; he was determined to stake life and limbs and everything on the attainment of his ambition. He was determined to cover himself with glory; he was determined to let people see that he did not know what fear was. And I think—there was that in his bearing the nearer the day became which suggested it, everybody who had known him of old declaring that they noticed a certain change in him during the last two months of his life—that he felt that his glory would be purchased at the cost of his life.

I well remember one afternoon in the Ramparts when Captain Andrews came in and told us that it had been proposed that Major Brighten should take the Battalion over the top in the push and the Colonel remain behind on "battle reserve." Captain Andrews said that that would be fine, because if the push were a success—as it was sure to be—Major Brighten[10] would probably get the D.S.O. before the Colonel, which would annoy the Colonel intensely; and he said that he would do anything, risk anything to bring success to our beloved Major Brighten—feelings which we all cordially reciprocated. But Colonel Best-Dunkley would not hear of it. He implored the General to allow him to lead his battalion over the top; he waxed most importunate in his entreaties, almost bursting into tears at the thought of being debarred from going over with the Battalion; and, at last, his request was granted and the General agreed that Best-Dunkley should take the Battalion over.

Another very gallant officer was also very grieved when he was informed that he was detailed to be on "battle reserve" for the push. That officer was Kenneth Blamey. When Captain Blamey was informed that his second-in-command would take the Company over he implored to be allowed to go over the top with his company. But his request was not granted. Bodington was to take D Company over. It would not do for all company commanders to go over the top at once: the future has to be considered.

One more reminiscence before I close this chapter. It was at Watou that fat Joye used to come into the tent and get me to talk to him about the war. I remember him coming in to see us the last night at Watou and saying to me that we would both have nice "Blighties" in the leg in a few days. I replied that I hoped so. Things turned out exactly as Joye forecast: about ten days later I met him on the grand staircase in Worsley Hall!