The prospect is murky. Given a little time, I think I could do it; but ... well, one can but try.
I asked the Captain if he thought leave at all possible. He most strongly advised me not to dream of asking. The corps is certain to refuse in any case, as they will want me to sweat up the show and get to know all about it as rapidly as possible.
I think I shall be going to live with the R.F.C., so as to be able to snatch their photographs the instant they come in--puzzle them out--put them quickly on to a map--and send them off. Everyone then will know far more quickly what Fritz is up to.
So don't be surprised if letters are addressed from R.F.C. shortly. I shall take a couple of draughtsmen and a clerk and an orderly, and Hale.
[Illustration: THE BUTTE DE WARLENCOURT This small chalk mound was one of the most difficult obstacles on the way to BAPAUME. In the foreground a large 'crump-hole' and the remains of a little copse.]
I don't know when leave will be possible. This job is rather in the making, and is really very important stuff. A great responsibility, says the corps commander. In fact, I am just a bit nervous about things generally. That battery that was reported in so-and-so wood. Is it there still? Well, where has it moved to, then? You are not sure? Why not? No recent photographs of it? But why not? Can it be in so-and-so quarry, perhaps? That light railway has been repeatedly smashed up by our heavies. Repaired? What? What evidence have you? Let me have a map as soon as possible, showing exactly where you believe that line has been repaired, and the exact position of that battery in the quarry--if it really is there. But don't tell me it's in the quarry unless you are quite sure. Yes, sir. And you'd better have the map duplicated. How many can the draughtsmen print before to-morrow? About 300. Well, send out copies. I must have that battery silenced at once. Do you see? Can I rely on it being sent out in time? Yes, sir.
That's the sort of thing. Things that _must_ be done and quickly. Perhaps it sounds nothing much--a mere bit of a map. But maps are like lamps to men in the dark. And they must be accurate. To me, therefore, the most inaccurate, absent-minded mortal before the war that ever breathed, it is all a source of great anxiety.