208 BRITLISH BIRDS. [ VOL. XI. 
time he had, with courageous honesty, felt bound to reject 
much of the orthodox religious dogma, that had at first meant 
a great deal to him, when he found it was no longer true for 
himself. Again he strongly disliked all forms of authoritative 
and imperialist politics, and counted himself a Socialist in the 
Continental sense, utterly opposed to the policy of the Italian 
Catholic party. He was impatient of the voluntary system 
of recruiting, thinking it better in time of war that the Govern- 
ment should decide who were required for fighting and who 
ought to stick to their work: and so, when the British 
representative on the committee of the Agricultural Institute 
said that the British Government wanted all the single men, 
he was ready to come. He preferred to enlist as a private, 
and joined the Buffs on February 29th, 1916. Most of his 
training was at Dover, where he had chased Dark Green 
Fritillaries and watched Shrikes in his first school-days, 
eighteen and twenty years before. 
In June he went to France, and was in the fighting on the 
Somme, in Belgium.and near Albert before Christmas, always 
able to banish something of the gruesome surroundings 
by looking and listening for the birds—and often rewarded 
by the sight of good things, such as a Green Sandpiper put 
up from a flooded trench, a Great Grey Shrike on the cheerless 
downs at Christmas-time, and a Bustard that flew over the 
camp one day in February, 1917. Then one night when he 
was on sentry duty he broke his leg ; it was supposed only 
to be sprained, and was not properly treated for a fortnight ; 
so in March he was in England again, and spent his con- 
valescence at a military hospital in Monmouthshire, where 
he was able to see the coming migrants in April. Then to 
Shoreham for further training, until his leg was really well ; 
there we had a fine walk by the Adur and over the Downs ; 
and on July 14th, when he had his draft leave from 
Sittingbourne, we spent a beautiful evening out in the 
Forest at Tunbridge Wells, watching half-a-dozen Nightjars 
dancing in the air, and listening to them, and to a Corncrake, 
and the gurgling and drumming of a Snipe—peaceful sounds 
of summer. The next morning we watched a family of 
Wood-Wrens being fed, at a place where a pair appeared 
this year after eight years’ absence, only a few yards from 
where we had watched a family at the end of July, 1905, 
the day on which we “ discovered ” each other. 
Several letters followed from France, ending with one on 
September 30th, in which he wrote of a Quail they had put 
up, which, with Pied Flycatcher, Woodchat and Melodious 
Warbler seen passing a few days before, made 107 species 
