That, and the curious acrid winter smell of great wind-blown spaces, will always come to my memory as I think of that day.

Every hour brought me peace of mind and resolution.

I felt as I had felt when the battalion first marched from Aire towards the firing-line, a kind of keying-up and wild expectation.

I'm not used to cities, and lounging about Constantinople had slackened my fibre.

Now, as the sharp wind buffeted us, I felt braced to any kind of risk.