At the midday halt, a little diversion enlivened
the proceedings in the shape of pulling two bogged horses out of a
narrow cut where they had been 'watered.' We managed with the help of
ropes and planks to get the poor brutes on to terra firma again, more
dead than alive.
Then on and on, hour after hour, halting ten minutes each hour for a
needed breather and rest, until Ostend hove in sight. Visions of a
comfortable billet rose before one's luxurious mind, but no such luck;
right through the city we marched, finding the station square crammed
with terror-stricken and most wretched-looking refugees; until, some
four miles out, we lighted upon the most filthy and forsaken place to be
found on the map of civilization--Steene. The houses were so vile and
malodorous, that it was with great reluctance the O.C. allowed the men
to enter. By this time it was very dark and very cold, and it was with
purely animal instinct that we found the way to our mouths in the
darkness, and tried to make believe that we enjoyed the biscuit and
bully beef which formed our rations.
Then came the somewhat important question of where to sleep.
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