Such a deluge all the morning. Cold quite all right now. It really is immaterial when food tocks come, whether we are in or not—they are always welcome. Godson is Intelligence Officer, and A1. Expect trenches will be in a bad state. The Hun leaves us alone if we don’t bother them, but we are always harrying him, and he then retaliates a little. Wurtemburghers [sic] opposite us, and stout fellows, I think. Our guns had a strafe about 6.00 p.m. for half an hour, and the Bosche replied with a few heavies over here. Again they had a sudden burst about half an hour ago, which is now dying down. No answer as yet from the Bosche. There is a constant rain daily of two or more to hospital with bronchitis. Our old Sergt. Cook has been invalided. He was an excellent fellow, and I don’t know how to replace him. Colder night and fine.

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