After a restless night's sleep on the train with the crew of morons, we arrived in Ypres to find the people in front of us stripping off for a good old medical inspection (shouldn't they have done that before we got here?). They checked our hearts, injected us with weird stuff and then sent us on our way to meet our new man in charge, Corporal Bellenden.
The first thing that I was ordered to do by Corporal Bellenden was to dig myself a good old trench with my trench mates, who strangely enough, ended up being the dumbasses that I had met on the train.
Through the pouring rain and howling wind we laboured until we had ourselves a prime dugout. ''Wup'' said Chrabbott when we had finished, before being splattered against the back wall of our brand spankin' trench by a german sniper. This was of course a huge shock to us all, yet we knew that he would probably not be the only one of our number to fall.
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