I  longed  to  get  away  from  every  one  and
everything,  especially  returns.  So  I  got  per-
mission, borrowed  a  horse,  and  off  I  went,  free
and  alone  for  one  blessed  day.  I  went  care-
fully attired.  I  rather  fancied  my  own  ap-
pearance— as  much  of  it  as  I  could  see.  I
discarded  my  Tommy's  uniform,  and  sneaked
a  pair  of  transport-driver's  breeches.  They
fitted  me  almost  too  well — so  well  that  I
couldn't  take  them  off  myself  at  night.  I  put
on  my  own  officer's  coat,  and  with  a  khaki
handkerchief  made  up  as  a  hunting-scarf,  gaily
set  off,  feeling  an  awful '  nut.'  I  risked  the  sun
and  wore  my  glengarry,  and  that  made  me  a
Jock.  And  on  that  peninsula,  then,  a  Jock
was  a  very  important  person.  And  my  badge
showed  that  I  belonged  to  No.  1  Regiment  of
Foot  in  the  British  Army.
No  holiday  could  have  been  more  simple.
But,  oh,  how  I  enjoyed  it  1  A  whole  day  with
not  a  duty  in  it  1  I  could  scarcely  believe
that  I  was  I,  and  much  less  that  I  was  in
Gallipoli.
I  cantered  over  the  ridge  behind  our  posi-
tion, to  get  out  of  any  possible  harm  as  quickly
as  possible,  and  then  I  trotted  across  to  begin
my  day  with  a  bathe.  It  was  incredible  how
changed  the  place  was.  I  came  across  a
farrier  busily  shoeing  horses  just  as  if  this
were  the  British  countiy-side  he'd  grown  up


168  THE   PINK   FARM.
