It was night. The heavy rain drove out of the dark void from every direction at once, and baptized the chilled faces of men as though it had been discharged from the hundred-holed rose of a full watering-can. The right and the left sections of  the Battery were disposed on either side of the track. Fires were burning. Horse-lines had been laid down, and by the light of flickering¹ flames the dim forms of tethered animals could be seen with their noses to the ground pessimistically pretending to munch² what green turf had survived in the mud. Lanterns moved mysteriously to and fro. In the distance to the west more illuminations showed that another unit had camped along the track. The quartermaster of No. 2, had produced meagre tinned meats and biscuits from his emergency stores, and had made a certain quantity of tea in dixies; he had even found a half-feed of oats for the horses; so that both horses and men were somewhat appeased³. But the officers had had nothing, and the Army Service Corps⁴ detachment was still undiscoverable.