After a while I grew
quite bold, and decided to stow myself and my boxes in the lower part
of a house not far from the depot. The upper story had been torn off
by shells. I could look through large holes in the ceiling up to the
blue sky. The next move was to find means of notifying my husband and
his friends of my arrival. I crept along the streets back to the
depot, Tempe creeping by my side, holding fast to my dress. Then I
found an officer just going out to the trenches, and sent by him a
pencilled note to Lieutenant Cluverius, thinking an officer would be
likely to receive a communication, when a private might not. Soon
after sunset, my husband joined me, and soon after many friends. They
were all ragged, mud-stained, and altogether unlovely, but seemed to
me most desirable and welcome visitors.
One of my boxes being opened, I proceeded to do the honors. My guests
having eaten very heartily, filled their haversacks, and, putting "_a
sup_" in their canteens, returned to camp to send out a fresh squad.
The next that came brought in extra haversacks and canteens "for some
of the boys who couldn't get off," and these also were provided for.
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