June 17th, 1915.
France.

Things have been fairly quiet here lately, until a few nights ago, when we had an attack. I was in my pyjamas, which I have still kept for occasional wear, when an orderly arrived for me to go up to the guns. I went only to be met by the Major's sleepy voice, saying, "So sorry Ross, but I sent down another orderly to tell you not to come". I went back to bed. Next afternoon I went to the F.O.O. and we had a quiet night down in that venerable ruin until midnight when we started firing. Fired till 3 a.m., slept till 6, fired again off and on all day. We had a battle about 6 P.M lots of smoke, dust, shells, and machine guns. The knocked the side out of the old ruin, and things were hot for a while. My telephonist got hit while I was talking to him, by a splinter of a shell, just a shallow gash under the jaw. The show kept up till about 9 P.M. and Ell relieved me then and I went in to the guns. Slept there over night and went on to the waggon line about 11 A.M. Major sent for me again the same evening, I went up and was again met with the news that I was'nt needed. Talked to Ell and the rest about the fight and came home to bed. Quiet again today except for the Bosches "Jack Johnsons". They make quite a row. I see the Colonel quite often, was talking to him this afternoon. He certainly showed up trumps at the big scrape in April, and is better liked than ever.