I believed my days of mining were over, but our small gang of men is now deep beneath our own trenches, and steadfastly burrowing towards the enemy.

It rather brings back memories, my dear; the swing of the pick-axe and heft of the shovel, the squeak of the cart dragging away the tailings, the oppressive heat despite the cool spring above ground, all that is missing are the songs of the miners. We must keep a strict silence as the Hun is also digging towards us, and we must not alert him. Also, we must often stop in our efforts for Harry to position a wooden horn against the walls to listen, the eerie silence swallowing us up while he hearkens for the sounds of another teams’ picks. So long as he hears nothing, we may then continue for a while with our endeavours.

But to what end? you ask. Will you burst from the ground amongst the villainous Hun and catch him by surprise? In fact once our tunnel is long enough, we shall pack it with all the boxes and barrels of explosives we can spare, then retreat and… it shall make quite a dent in the earth, and quite a dent in the Hun’s lines too!

We are still fond of our Captain; he continues to prove his concern for us by meeting the Company as we exit our underground workhouse each day and handing us cooling cups of tea.

When not beneath the earth we are amidst it, cowering in our dug-outs as always. Last week I had occasion to visit the village nearby with a message for the Major, and walking along the tiny streets of that small town was unnatural to me, after so long in my new world. I am becoming a troll the old miners used to tell tales of, and fear when they dug too deep.

There was great excitement today when a dog ran along our trench. It was big and black, not of any breed I know, but a proper mongrel. It caused a stir, some men putting on their gas-masks for fear it carried plague from the German lines. Still others thought it might be a spy, but the Captain would have none of this folly. He ordered us to shoot it but somehow every man who had an opportunity chanced to miss him. Still the gunfire upset the poor beast, and he jumped clear out of the trench and scampered into no-man’s-land. We watched him through our periscopes for a while, dashing this way and that, before Captain Dean ordered us back to work. He worried we risked becoming attached to the blessed canine and feared his wanderings would take him into a minefield. We have seen men brought down the line with the dreadful injuries such mines can cause, and no man would wish to know of that end coming to any innocent creature.