Monday 12 July, 1915: A Gala day

Duty 1800 to 0600.  Have been averaging for the last week or two 3 hours in 24 hours sleep.  Too hot and too many infernal flies. 
Mail day, rum issue and tobacco issue in the trenches (a Gala Day).   Have moved into my new shrapnel proof dug out.  Very cosy. 
Nearly all my old friends are gone now poor devils. One of my mates named Emerson and I are undoubtedly the luckiest beggars under the sun.   We have had some thrilling and hairbreadth escapes together.  We are getting that way now that shrapnel holds no fear for us.  It has burst all over us and all round us.  It has knocked our dugouts in on top of us and yet we have come out of it without a scratch so far.  Another time a high explosive shell lobbed into our dugout and didn’t explode (lucky for us).  If it had exploded they would never have been able to find our pieces.
J. A. Graham