Things have been very quiet hear the last week, with the exception of a little shell fire both from the Turks and our own guns. The night before last our fellows made a charge on our right flank and took two line of trenches. first of all they blew up the Turks trenches and then charged before the dust had time to settle. They cut off the Turks in one trench and the others run for their lives leaving their rifles behind. They are afraid to face the cold steel. We expect to have some excitement in a few days, things are too quiet to last, but I suppose you will read about it in the Australian papers. Well Aub I must say good-bye.Remember me to Jim.
Sydney Charles Douce, January 1916, Fovant Camp, Wiltshire. Born: 17 November 1882, Joined GWR: 28 November 1898, Regiment: 1/5 London Regiment; 3rd Battalion London Rifle Brigade; Royal Army Medical Corps, Regiment number: 3701; 202204; 536657, Rank: Private, Died: 1933. Transcript
The worst has happened. The War Office has sent us down to this place which is miles from nowhere. The camp however is made up of hundreds of huts is according to the 'old uns' at the game the finest they have ever been in, certainly everything is alright but the place is so muddy and my time is split up. One half getting frightfully dirty and the other getting myself clean again. However it's all in the game and can't be helped. There are twenty to a hut. The beds are three long boards on two trestles about eight or nine inches off the floor, a straw mattress and a straw pillow, and four blankets. Not a bit what I have been used to. However I am now quite comfortable in it and sleep like a top. Marvellous how you think we settle down to it. Don't you think? We rise at 6.30am. Breakfast (porridge and bacon) at 7.30. Parade at 8.20. Drill till 10.30. Then half an hour's rest. Then more drill up to 12.30. Dinner at 1 o'clock (meat and two vegetables and sweets). Parade again at 2.20. Then more drill which brings us up to 4pm. We are then dismissed for the day. Tea at 5pm (bread, butter and jam). After which we can do what we like until 9.15. By this time we have to be in our huts for the final day's roll call and at 10pm. All lights have to be out. That's what my day consists of at present. It may not seem much, and really it isn't, but I am half the day cleaning up. The grub is alright but there is not quite enough of it at present. I think however this will be right as soon as they have made all necessary arrangements. For the time being the Non-Commissioned Officers seem to be a little overworked. This is the same every day, varied on two mornings a week with a long route march in the morning. Of course we only have half a day on Saturday and only a Church parade on Sunday. So altogether things are not so bad. The only thing is I can't get away for weekends, as it would take up most of the time to travel to London and back. I shall try however and run up to town in a few weeks' time if possible.Kind regards to all at 'Omega', and everybody at 164, W.1, including, yourself.
I am writing this on the evening of the first day of the new year. We came into the trenches (an emergency call) the day before yesterday, but we are in the reserve trenches, not the firing line. I am writing this in my dugout (about two feet high and five feet long) by the miserable light of a guttering, little bit of candle. Soon it will go out, and then (for it’s only 5.30 and a wild night) come the long, long dark hours until ‘stand to’ in the morning.
Last night, old year’s night, was a nightmare evening. At 1 o’clock, the troops in the front line made two bomb attacks on the German front line, and we’d to support them. For an hour, it was literally hell upon earth. I had to spend most of the time crouched in the mud by the side of a machine gun. It was going nearly all the time, and the noise nearly stunned me, then the sickly smell of cordite, and the dense masses of steam from the water cooler didn’t improve matters. Both our artillery and theirs were going for all they were worth, and they lit up the sky. You could see some of the shells going through the air, swift, red streaks. Then an incessant stream of bullets from both sides, bombs, trench mortars, making a hellish din, and the sky lit up with a mad medley of shells, searchlights, star lights, the green and red rockets (used for signalling purposes); just about an hour of hell, and that was our introduction to the year of 1916! This morning I learned that we lost about 80 men and several officers, so that it cost us pretty dearly.
I enjoyed the parcel hugely, and the pudding was splendid! Please thank Mrs What’s-her-name for her kind gift. It is very comfortable. I’m afraid that you would hardly recognise me if you saw me now. It is three days since I had a shave, and two since I had a wash. I’m a mask of mud. My hair is matted, and I resemble an Australian beachcomber.
This is morning of Jan. 2nd. We go into the firing line this afternoon for four days. By the way, if you can get hold of any old paperbacked sixpenny novels (such as Jacobs, Stanley Weyman – light stuff) please send some in your next parcel. No magazines; there’s not enough reading matter and the quality is bad. Only old copies, you know, don’t buy new ones.
I saw a tin the other day, labelled Mackintosh’s Chocolate Toffee de Luxe. It sounds so weird that I’d like some if you can procure any, please!
Harold William Cronin, 18 January 1916, Egypt. Born: 9 May 1880, Regiment: 4th Seaforth Highlanders; promoted to Lieutenant in 5th Bedfordshire Regiment on 20 May 1915, Died: 2 December 1917 at 35 Casualty Clearing Station in Palestine, leaving 268 19s to his widow Transcript
A lot has happened since I last wrote to you and we have moved, and moved, and moved again, and still we are moving. There is nothing at all to say about the actual coming off. We were told to pack up, and having done so, were marched off and oon afterwards were making up a four for Bridge in quite a comfortable cabin and enjoying the unwanted luxury of electric light.
The only thing that struck one in coming away was that nothing had altered and it might easily have been the night I landed. The same old beach apparently full up with boxes of bully beef, tinned milk and jam, the same old destroyer, with its search light playing on the shore, keeping up its systematic bombardment and the same old swish of bullets around and dropping into the water. No sooner was Christmas here than we were packing up again, to come on here. A large town a few miles on the interior, it is a filthy rotten smelly hole and we always carried loaded revolvers and walked about in batches and were never out after dark. Probably the people are not ill disposed to us but some of them looked pretty villainous and it was better to be on the safe side.
We have had quite a good time and the regular hours and regular meals have backed everyone up well and now we are all as fit as ever apparently.
Thanks very much for the Xmas card it was a bit late but then all our Xmas letters and parcels were on account of the way we have been moving about; we lost a good mail, too, on the Persia (S.S. Persia, which was torpedoed and sunk in December 1915). I am enclosing a few photos that might be of interest to you. I have some more snaps coming later on and will let you have some if they turn out to be any good. With kind regards.
Born: 30 March 1883, Regiment: Railway Troop, Royal Engineers, Regiment number: 138053, Rank: Sapper, Died: 1965 Editorial Note: last paragraph transcribed by AMC, not by UK Archivists.
I am pleased to say I am still in the same job and getting to understand the run of things. It is very interesting work, as you would imagine. It is a real line here, sometimes we are pushed and carry on till the early hours of the morning. I might say there is no grumbling about tea money, overtime or bonus quotas putting in as much as eighteen hours a day sometimes and it would not do to send deputations to the chief who is also hard at it, in his room; there is a special way of dealing with such in the army.
Of course one never knows how long this may last I may have marching orders to proceed elsewhere any day. Each day is absolutely a day unto itself here. We dont count tomorrow.
I see you have been visited with a blizzard, we also have had a severe touch of winter and at the present moment it is snowing hard outside. The shutters are closed and the work is being carried on by lamplight, this is necessary owing to the glass having recently left the windows in small fragments some souvenirs [shells] having called upon us. When the weather is fine we are fresh air fiends now both day and night except that we close the shutters when snowing or raining. The latter it is often doing.
There are hosts of interesting things I could write you about but these will do later on when I have the pleasure of seeing you. Lieut. Duntons crowd was hereabouts, but I did not run up against him.
I suppose the Derby* entries have commenced to run now. I met another GW fellow the other day, Sergeant Gregory, a Slough fellow. I think George Jones would know him. I have seen this fellow at Paddington but did not know him to speak to.
I had a letter from Longmoor Camp. Must correct information. J. Higgs is in the Railway Transport Engineers with another friend of mine, Watton of Windsor who was in the Finance office
Has Charlie Millcox come over this side of the water yet? I am looking out for him on all the transport wagons. I may run him down some day. Perhaps [he'll] be pleased to hear from him when you have the time.
Frederick G. Woodhams, 16 February 1916, France. Regiment: 13 London Rifles, Regiment number: 1383, Rank: Private; Lance Corporal; Sergeant, Died: Killed in action on 16 August 1917, having been struck by shrapnel; prior to this, he had been wounded twice. These are typed extracts of a letter that Frederick Woodhams had written to his family (RAIL 253/516). Below that is an article from the Illustrated London News, 1915 (ZPER 34/146s9
The last time I wrote I think I told you we had lost our comfortable job on railheads. We have been shifted from General Headquarters and are at the most godforsaken hole there can possibly be in France. We had a rotten journey raining all the time. Reveille* was at 4am and we eventually left the station about 10am. The accommodation consisted of the old cattle trucks, and rations of bully and biscuits. It was a very cold and uncomfortable journey.
We arrived at our destination about 4.30pm and after standing in the rain for 2 hours with full pack on, we set out on a ten mile march. Its the worst march Ive ever done. The majority of us at the finish were absolutely knocked up and were only too glad to crawl into the billets before going to bed, which was about 12pm. They gave us a mug of tea (the first we had since six in the morning) and best of all a ration of rum.
The up to date soldier kit to carry about from place to place consists of 150 rounds of ammunition, inside the pack; overcoat, fur coat, two pairs socks, one pants, one shirt, ground sheet, iron rations [emergency food supply]. Outside pack; Mackintosh and mess tin, in haversack; cleaning kit, hold all, 24lbs rations, soap and towel, and on top of that extras such as handkerchiefs, plate, mug, tobacco, etc, two smoke helmets* in a satchel slung over the shoulder, a respirator in the left flap of a tunic and field dressing on the right, and of course the rifle, in all its no light weight on a long march, it takes all ones strength and staying power to keep going.
We are billeted in a barn and have a sea of mud to get through. We have no boards, so sleep on the ground, fires are not allowed in the billet and at night time its devilish cold.
In the village there is a little general shop (now nearly sold out), one pub where they sell something they charge 2d for and call beer, there are no shops of any description and of course no amusements.
Rations are not so good now (todays dinner, Sunday, bully beef, stew and two potatoes between 35 men. We have a loaf and a bit (small loaf) and two tins of jam between seven men, the short bread issue being augmented by the world famous army biscuits.
Our captain is a perfect gentleman and about the most popular man in the regiment, the junior captain (an absolute sport) and the platoon officers are all very decent sort of fellows. We appear to be much better off in this respect than before, and certainly think that D. Co. has got as good a selection of officers as any other company in the battalion. One of our fellows ran across a number of Audit R.E.s and they enquired after Maggs and myself.
William Charles Davis, 15 March 1916, France. Born: 12 November 1884, Joined GWR: 12 January 1900, Regiment: Royal Army Medical Corps, Regiment number: 31223, Rank: Lance Corporal; Sergeant, Retired: 1944 Transcript Sunday
How are things going with you now? I expect like the rest of us will be glad when the better weather sets in for there is no doubt about it, it has been rough lately.
Since I last wrote to you we have shifted to another part of the lineand it is a warm shop, for both sides must have all guns they can find and it is nothing but one long duel all day and every day but thank goodness it gives over a bit a night so that one can get on with their work. You see of a night the flashes of the guns can be seen so plainly that is why they do not fire a lot then.
Just on our right our people retook some trenches we had lost, oh what a rough time the poor devils had, snow and mud as much as you like and they had to lay in it for two days and grub could not be got to them. I expect there have been a few more from Paddington called up by now, it seems if the authorities mean to have all the men they want and if they can't get them one way they will another, and it certainly looks as if they will be wanted for out here. One cannot see any signs of an early settlement. I see by the papers that the air raids have been busy in England again. I suppose you have not seen anything of them yet, has Rory Moore had any more frights? We have the taubes [German aircraft] over our hospital nearly every day or night and I can tell you we got some starts at times.The nearest we have to them since I have been here is just one yard from the main door, at 12.30 it blew in two pairs of double doors and shattered on end of the building to bits but not a great deal of damage to life which after all is the main thing. The arrangements we in work is five or six days up the line and four or five down if you are lucky. Of course at times these arrangements go to pot when there is an attack and we get a warm time and I should like to enlarge on these things but of course you understand I cannot.
Give my kind regards to all and trusting you are well.
No doubt, perhaps you had thought I had forgotten old friends at Paddington, but such is not the case. We so not have much spare time for letter writing now. To tell you of all our adventures since we left England would take too long here to relate but I will save for when I come home. Perhaps you have heard, we were only at Farnborough four days, before we were sent over there. By God, old chap we did have a time of it, the first fortnight. Living on bully beef and biscuits, travelling day and night and sleeping anywhere and doing long tramps with full kit on nearly done us in as we had no training. We managed to stick it through, but I thought poor Percy Smith would have to give in as he was very queer with toothache. The first six weeks we moved about from place to place doing all sorts of fatigue work, bar our own. Lambert, Smith, Collins and myself are now settled down in H the place where Mr Lakers son was so long at. Collins and Lambert have been fortunate enough to get temporary clerical work during the last months.
I was promised one when on the 17th of last month I was wounded by a bomb from a taube which landed clean through our billet at 12 oclock at night, when we were all sound asleep. I caught it in the thigh, but luckily it was only a flesh wound, but I had some awful bruises from the debris which fell on it. I have been in hospital ever since at the base, but I am pleased to say I am now nearly well again and in a convalescent camp three miles from there, overlooking the sea. We are not allowed to put our address at the heading of a letter so I will put it here:
2AM /W.P. Mansbridge No.16929, Royal Flying Corps No. G 21 Hut no. 6 Convalescent Depot, A.P.O. S.17, British Expeditionary Force. After I am discharged from here, I shall be sent up to the base and then up the line with the best of luck as the Tommies say out here. I am hoping to get back to H as I was so happy and with such decent fellows there, but I dont think it probable. Lambert, Smith and myself, often used to talk of old times and wondered how things were at Paddington. I daresay Gerald, there are not many young fellows left in the Audit are there, has Mr Horsley gone? Do drop me a line when you have time, as I assure you old boy, it is a real treat to hear Paddington news. I have never felt in better health, army life certainly agrees with me also with Lambert. Billy Button is at headquarters, got a cushy job. I believe I saw him once there, but I have no idea where the other G.W. fellows are. I am afraid I am not very fluent with my French yet, I could have done with your services on several occasions. How are Mr Slater and other members of the Stats. (or is that department disbanded?) Please remember kindly to them. (Lines censored) Cannot stop to write more now as I am just off to a concert in the Y.M.C.A. hut in the camp here.
Sidney Smith, 19 March 1916, France. Born: 20 October 1881, Regiment: Railway Operatives Division, Royal Engineers, Regiment number: 218849, Rank: Sapper, Returned to office: 19 May 1919, Retired: 20 October 1941
I expect you are wondering why I have never written since leaving England. Well the fact is I have never had a chance for it has been a Cooks Tour since I was last with you.gi Perhaps I had better try and give you some idea of my adventures from the time we last met. It was not many hours after seeing you all that we were dispatched for France. We landed at a town after a nice long trip. At this spot, a rest camp so called, we spent about a week. What with parades in the daytime for various reasons and employed at the docks all night, unloading flour was the job that came my way you can imagine the rest we had. However we then went on to another base and here owing to illness, we were all isolated for ten days and no letters could be sent. Within a day or two of being released from this I alone of all our boys was packed off to another depot so that was the last I have seen for the time being of our crowd, and have been on my own since. After a couple of nights at this depot I was sent to a point to get experience in the work I came here for. This turned out to be the best thing I had touched for the staff were billeted out and I slept in a feather bed which was great for it was under canvas.I soon found out that my luck was in and that happiness and comfort would be my lot whilst there. Alas my dream was soon dispelled, and after a week of civilised existence, I was sent for by the depot. After another 48 hours there I was sent away again to some other spot, but en route, was detained at a rest camp for two days, apparently owing to the absence of trains to the point I was going.
Covered vans are used here to convey soldiers about. Strange to say the actual truck I made this last journey in I saw again the next day loaded with sick horses, so being used for any purpose you can guess they cannot be compared to the carriages in which we made our daily trips to town and back. To continue my travels, the next day I was sent to the point I am now writing from, and which I think will be my residence for some little time as I have now taken up regular duties. It is a terrible, Godforsaken and desolate spot. There is naught to be seen except shell holes and rats and these latter are an abomination. There is little to be heard here at night except gun fire and rats and one soon gets used to both. I went to a village, the nearest here, about two miles away, on Sunday last and it was really an awful sight to see how it had been smashed by shell fire. You can now I trust realise the reason for my not writing before, in fact I have only written to my wife and father, and have only received one letter from each of them and that was a few days ago. I can tell you that I hunger for news of home after being here a month without a word. It is also almost impossible to buy anything for there is nowhere to get it.
I trust all is well with everyone at 164 and that poor old Sid is alright again. If Miss Welshs little affair has come off I wish her the very best of luck and trust she will have all happiness. Please write to me soon some of you. Lots of luck, and good wishes to you all.
Born: 13 September 1888, Joined GWR: 19 May 1904, Regiment: Railway Troop, Royal Engineers, Regiment number: 87749, Rank: Sapper, Died: Killed in action on 6 May 1917
Montague Percy Pond
I was very pleased to receive your letter for which many thanks. It took nearly a fortnight to reach me as I have changed about a good deal lately from one division to another and it has followed me around. I am pleased to say I am still keeping very fit and going on in about the same way. I think the last time I wrote we were living in trucks. Well we have now moved into huts about ten feet square, which are very comfortable although not quite as large as the trucks. They are well built and stand about a foot from the ground so keep very dry. We have two of them, one which we use as an office and the other to sleep and live in. We also have a tent which we use for keeping kits etc. in, but we shall probably sleep in it when the weather is a bit warmer.
We have had some lovely weather lately, quite like summer but rather cold at night. We had a great deal of snow last month also plenty of rain and wind, and were over the tops of our boots in mud. We are stationed at a very small village which stands very high (about 600 feet above sea level) you can guess it is a bit breezy at times. It is a one-eyed hole with only two cafes and no shops. We have all our meals cooked at one of the cafes, and we live very well although there is not very much variation in the menu. I have managed to have one or two musical evenings lately. The fiddle I bought appears to be a fairly good one but my fingers are not quite so nimble as they were. I am afraid I shall have to put in a month or twos practice before I get back to where I was before I came out here. Glad to hear you have taken it up again. We shall be able to get a band for our next lamb dinner whenever that will be.
Things do not seem to make much of a move round this way. We get plenty of aeroplanes over and see a good many fights in the air. There have also been a good many shells dropped not very far away from us, but we have managed to dodge them so far although, one of our fellows, who comes from the Midland Railway and who I worked with for some time, has been wounded and sent to base. There is only one G.W. man anywhere near me as far as I know and that is Colcott from Chief Goods Managers Office but he is some distance away and I hadnt seen much of him. I was surprised to hear that Morris had gone into the R.F.C. (Royal Flying Corps) after being rejected for the Infantry. I was also surprised and sorry to hear about Jack Symons. I had heard nothing about it. How did it happen? It must be very quiet at the office now with so many gone. (Censored line). As you say it is quite a change from the old days. I have not yet come across any of those who joined the R.E. (Royal Engineers) Transport lately. Did you know that Arthur Watton has joined?
We had a concert party belonging to one of the divisions stationed round here, staying in the village last week, and they gave us a show two nights running. They had a proper stage with scenery and footlights, everything complete. They were very good indeed. The programme consisted of songs, sentimental and otherwise, also a Sketch and some Charlie Chaplin pictures which were very laughable as usual. Well, I dont think I can tell you much more at present. Please remember me to all at the office.
Gilbert Williams, 6 April 1916, France. Born: 18 April 1894, Regiment: 1/6 Seaforth Highlanders, Regiment number: 2175, Rank: Private, Died: 1967. Note: Williams also fought in Second World War returned from war on 15 November 1948
Thanks very much for your letter which I received a week or two ago, also for the magazine.
We are in the trenches just now. In fact we seem to spend about three times as much time in as we do out. Also we are in a pretty warm spot, it was about here, towards the end of last summer that the French and German had some of the fiercest fighting of the war. The country around about is a veritable maze of trenches. The fighting at one time was so fierce that there was only time just to bury the dead in the sides of the trenches, and now that the trenches have crumpled one is constantly seeing the bones of mens legs or their boots, or skulls sticking out from the sides of the trenches, pleasant, eh? There will be a pleasant smell here in the summer. I only hope we are not here then. In places we are only about twenty yards away from Fritz and company. Consequently all times the air is pretty thick with bombs, grenades and trench mortars. These last are pretty hellish sort of toys. They have an explosion like about ten earthquakes rolled into one. But even these are not the worst we have to put up with. The trenches being so close together there is of course any amount of mining going on. So one never knows when the particular lump of earth one is standing on is going to take a trip through the solar regions. When a mine does go up, there is some excitement knocking about I can tell you. Suppose for instance we were going to explode one, all the artillery in the neighbourhood is ranged on the spot and directly the mine is exploded, there is hell let loose on the crater. Of course as soon as he gets the range the enemy replies, so that the air is fairly full of everything that kills quickly. One can on these occasions always rely on a good many casualties. Since we have been in this spasm there have been five exploded in this neighbourhood, while others are expected to go up at any time. So much for conditions here.
How is everything in town? Pretty quiet I suppose. I see youve had the zepps (Zeppelins) over again? Is it a fact that one dropped in the Thames? (Lines censored.) That is about all the news, so will close, kindest regards to everybody.
Born: 5 January 1877, Regiment: Railway Troop, Royal Engineers, Regiment number: 138054, Rank: Sapper, Returned to office: 5 May 1919
Just a few lines to let you know I arrived safely after visiting several places which I am not allowed to mention. This place is quite oriental as the fronts of the houses are for the most part looked after and kept in repair, while the backs are allowed to go, and it gives one a shock to see a fine building in the front, and then to go to the back and see it all neglected and ready to fall down. It is very hot here during the day and the swarms of flies and mosquitoes keep one very busy and I dread to think what it will be like in the summer. It seems strange to see oxen drawing carts and donkeys with packs on, but it is a very common sight here. I sometimes have to go to the big steamers in a small pinnace [ships boat] and when it is rough it requires some nerve to walk along the sides of barges that are pitching and tossing and then climb up the ships side by a rope ladder, but it comes easier in time. It is very mountainous here, and we get a very fine view of Mount Olympus and the snow-capped peaks. I had to go by motor up country the other day and I had to grip the side of the car as the roads are awful and sometimes there is only just room for the car to travel and a sheer drop on the other side. The labourers at the docks are Greeks and when they are taken on in the mornings it is a regular Babel till the Military Policeman uses his persuader (truncheon) right and left and that calms them somewhat. I have not met Mr Cox's son yet but should I do so I will make myself known to him. I have had to revert to sapper again as there are not sufficient men of our staff for us to remain N.C.O.s but if it is brought up to strength I am promised them again. The first person I saw here was Gray of the Stats (Statistical Department), and we are working together. Trusting that you are quite well and with kindest regards to Messrs Cox, Slater, Rogers and Hunt.
Teddy Ashton, May 6th, 1916 Sailor stationed in Russian Lapland source: https://www.iwm.org.uk/history/letters-to-loved-ones
I have written two or three times recently so you may get them together. We have been very busy for the last few weeks and have got through a great amount of work. We are much better off again as regards potatoes and other food stuffs for we have had a great quantity of stores. I fancy we shall be here for a time yet anyway it looks like it with such a quantity of stores aboard. You will see I am telling you the same things over and over again. At least I know I have told you them once or twice but everything about is all of a sameness kind of thing. Ships here there and everywhere now. But soon we shall have a move that is when we can get through the White Sea. We shall have to look after all the shipping. The snow is fast disappearing now. I came across an article in a paper the other day about this district and it said that 14 or 15 years ago bears used to roam around hear [sic], but there seems to be nothing around now excepting the wild fowl, which are very numorous. I believe salmon are numerous at certain times of the year. The 2nd and 3rd of May we had a terrific snow blizzard. We should have left the ship to go away and do some work on another ship but we could not get away from our ship it was so rough. We have no night now, the sun goes down but it never goes dark, it is eternally daylight. Of course I told you we have had an entire change round and I have a new job now, part of the ship. I have not half the time I used to have but I enjoy the robust work much better and I get to see much more with working away. We get up at 6.30 and work until 1.00 so we put a few hours in don't we. That is when we are working away. Did you get the £1-0-0 I remitted? Let me know. I have remitted another £3-0-0 this month. Let me know if you receive this also. I shall probably send a little more next month or later. Don't hold the paper money. Bank it or keep it by you in gold until I come home. Tell Dad I shall to him as soon as I can get enough to tell him about. Give my best love to everyone at home, I often think about you all.
Francis Witt, 28 May 1916, Salonika, Greece. Born: 8 February 1893, Regiment: Royal Engineers, Mediterranean Expeditionary Force; transferred to Office of Superintendent of Line on 15 June 1914, Regiment number: 138069; WR296343, Rank: Sapper, Died: 1970
I guess you wonder what has become of me after this long silence, but you will see I am a good distance away from the homeland now. I arrived here early in April and since the start have been getting on quite well. You may be interested to know that Gray from your department is also here. It is rather strange that I should rub against him.
The weather is brilliant, cloudless skies day after day, but it is very hot. There are plenty of mosquitoes about. They are very tantalising. A net is practically a necessity for sleeping purposes. I am billeted in a warehouse, it is a very old place, and has stood hundreds of years. I should think, according to its general appearance.
I have not picked up the lingo yet, but French is chiefly spoken, and I much regret not having studied it more when I had the opportunity at home. This town is a queer sort of place as compared with some of the French towns we know, and am sure I shall not wish to see it again when once I leave. The cafs are not so gay as the French, but I manage to have fun occasionally. We have got a piano and gramophone to amuse ourselves with. I hope we shall be able to have another trip to Paris, when the war has cleared up, but of course when is a question nobody can answer yet awhile. Shall be very pleased to hear some news of you, and conclude now with all the best.
Got your (Jacks) letter of 23 April to day & got one from Clare a couple of weeks ago. Well Im glad to see that things are all well so far. Very sorry to hear about Ted & I hope he has fully recovered by this. Also that he was not out of work long through it all. My word the kidlets must be growing. I suppose they are "some" handful by now. Hope the Arbitration award panned out satisfactorily to all concerned. Give my love to Ede Al & all of the folk. Uncle Will wrote & told me they had had a splendid trip up you way as far as Mt Morgan. He was then off to Mildura for a few days. I wrote you all a post card last week. Remember me to Bob Anderson & tell him Ill write shortly. My word the works must be like old times with all those hands up there. I am out in the desert still & at present with another officer & two troops stationed well out. We are having a glorious time as far as soldiering goes, and appear to be quite safe from any attacks. Of course everyone wants something to happen, but that sort of skite comes from the new bloods. All the old hands recognise the good wicket they are on & say nix.
Our horses are in good nick & get well looked after. The desert sun is very hot but we have managed to get a little shelter rigged here & there, which proves a great boon. Rations are good as can be & we are having a real good turn. Of course weve earned it. Ive got three splendid nags & you can bet were good pals. Ive picked up a good knowledge of horses here & do some enjoyable rides. We are too far from the canal for swimming but will get a turn there bye & bye. There have been one or two stunts of which the papers will have published in detail ere this. A week or so ago an aeroplane flew over one of the L.H. camps & dropped fifteen bombs accounting for 9 men & 14 horses killed. It was "No man standing" for a few jiffs. Of course he caught them at stables so was able to do a double shift & get away. The desert is not very interesting from a physical aspect, but it is marvellous to see the wonderful hiding places to be found everywhere in it. Everything is sand & the wind makes some tremendous mounds & some equally tremendous hollows. I have seen hollows quite two hundred feet deep.
I saw Walter Barrett but he has gone to France for sure by this. He looked well & was very keen on it. You might remember me to Allie. Has W.K. arrived that way yet. Im so sorry all the boys got out of work & I guess Mother had a bad time of it. Hope she is alright now. Tell Clare I havent had a chance to see that Aunt of hers, but will do so if I get a chance. We are about 50 miles across desert from Port Said, so you see I might see her ere long. Lizzie is in Adelaide. Her letters are very gloomy, and she seems very dissatisfied all round. Im very sorry, but were in this now till were let out, so its about time she got that view of it. She hasnt been at all short of money in any way & ought to be putting on a brighter face than her letters indicate. Young Will is evidently a boshter. I got several letters from people in the Hill. One from Geo Robinson containing real spicy congratulation from Jim Hebbard. He reckons Im right on a royal welcome from him if he ever sees me again, so that was rather cheering.
Well old man thats about all this time. Ill have such a lot to tell you when I come home that youll wish it could have been your luck to come. However your job is at home as Ive told you in most of my previous efforts. Things are looking bright for me in several ways. When I get back & if they do well both you & Ted will get the call. So in the meantime look well after Clare, the kiddies, & yourself with ever grateful love to you both from
James Davies, 23 June 1916, France. Regiment: 6 City of London Rifles, Regiment number: 3343, Rank: Lance Corporal Transcript
Just a line to let you know I am getting on fine. I have been in France since Good Friday morning. Well it is not so bad, but of course not so comfortable as the office work.
We had the Lord Mayor of London over to see us the other Sunday when we were resting, he made a little speech.
How are all at the office? You might remember me to Mr Woodhams, Mr Jones and Mr Cowan and the boys also the girls. I suppose Mr Redford has retired by now.
We have been in the trenches since the 13th and I expect we shall go out shortly. Our little dugout has just been flooded out, a very heavy thunderstorm, but we have run it out.It is rotten to see how the towns have been shelled to pieces. I don't suppose they will ever be rebuilt.
My brother was home on leave some time ago that is the second time so he has not got off badly. He has been promoted to Sergeant now. He seems to be getting on fine.
Have you seen Ernie Smith? How is he getting on, is he still in the A.P.C. (Army Pay Corps, non-fighting troops)? As I hear a lot have been transferred into line regiments.
Well here's to the time when the war is all over and we are back in the same old place. The trenches where we were are only 25 to 30 yards from the Huns so had to keep a bit low.
My address is 3343 Lance Corporal J. Davies, No. 1 Platoon D Company, 6th City of London Rifles, B.E.F., France. You might drop me a line to let me know how you are getting on and any news,
Frank Thayer Turner, 13 July 1916, Morn Hill Camp, Winchester, England. Born: 22 October 1897, Joined GWR: 13 April 1912, Regiment: Company 3/18 London Irish Regiment, Returned to office: 5 November 1917. He lost his right arm in the war. Died: 28 May 1937
Just a few lines to let you now things are going. Am having a fairly good time nothing at all to grumble about. I dont think I shall be going to France for a few months yet. I met one of the chaps from the tickets department last week he is in the R.F.C. down here. Some of us were feet under canvas for a fortnight but owing to the wind and rain we were moved back to the huts. When we were under canvas, we used not get up till 8 oclock, we were supposed to go on parade at 6.15am, but we dodged that. I enclose photo (not dressed for the occasion) outside our hut L20 or Hell 20 as it has been called. I am looking forward to seeing some of the office chaps when I am able to get leave. I hope your brother is getting on alright in France. Hoping you are in the pink like myself,
Just a note as we are on the move for another camp & things are upside down. Got a letter from you last mail & judge that you have been having a rough time. Gee-whiz but you must have a few howling matches there occasionally. Hope dear old Clare is OK also Allie K. Give Clare my love. Also tell her that I wrote to Mrs Dye & she has invited me up to Pt Said. As things are now of course I cant get away just for a while. We are expecting to be brawling with Johnny Turk & hope to give him a load or two. Things are greatly stirred here just now. Any way, the Devil looks after his own so have no fear & expect a line of more length shortly from your lovingly
Henry Bullen, 24 July 1916, Egypt. Born: 25 April 1893, Regiment: 2/10 Middlesex regiment, Regiment number: 2858, Rank: Private, Died: 1942 Transcript An employee at the Audit office added the following note at the top of the letter:Private H. Bullen, late of the Passengers dept, went through 11 months of Dardanelles campaign' Later moved to Malta, then to Egypt and Aden. Now encamped near Mount Sinai.
I am sorry I have been so long replying to your letter, but I have had my hands rather full just lately, so hope you will not mind. As I cannot get at my kit bag at present I shall only be able to write you a short letter because I have nearly run out of paper envelopes, so I shall have to make up for it next time.
Well my dear Percy I am glad to know yourself and all at home are in the best of health and please convey to your father and mother my appreciation of their good wishes sent to me.
I received your previous budget, but it arrived after I sent you the field postcard, my word it must take you a good time to write all those sheets of foolscap, but I delight in reading them, since being out here I find I cannot write an interesting letter. I am afraid my letters must often bore you, I have read your letter carefully and noted all the news about the office and some of our friends who are doing their share overseas, but the chief item you mention is poor old Rippington, it is the first time I have heard about him, poor old chap. I guess he was pleased to see you and I am sure it was an excellent idea of yours to send him some luxuries in the way of food with the proceeds of the money you collected for him at the office.
I sincerely hope our friends out in France will come out of the terrible ordeal safely, I note that Bob Court and several others have gone and my brother has been out there some weeks now, also I have two cousins who have been out there some considerable time and been in the thick of the fighting, I hope the advance will mean the rounding up of the Huns and from the latest news received here everything seems to be going well at present, am looking forward to seeing the office soon.
We are not having such an easy time as one would imagine,the heat is still very intense and the flies very troublesome and we have anything from an elephant to a cockroach creeping over our blankets at night time; the chameleon is our chief pet and will crawl over one's body just like a tame mouse and the different colours they can change their body to suit the thing they settle on is wonderful.
Now I must close Percy as you will see the paper is nearly filled up, so hope you will not mind this time, please remember me to all at home and all inquiring friends.
Harry Beaumont, 18 August 1916, Rawalpindi, India. Born: 17 October 1873, Regiment: 1/6 East Surrey Regiment, Regiment number: 2297, Rank: Quarter Master Sergeant, Died: 1952 Transcript
Just a few lines to let you know how we are getting on out here, I forgot when I last wrote you last and what news I told you. We marched down from the hills, 9,000 feet up in the Himalaya Mountains last October to Rawalpindi, then shortly afterwards out to camp returning just before Xmas. In February I obtained a furlough and had a fine tour of places of interest, down to Delhi then right across India to Calcutta, had several letters of introduction from brother Freemasons to awfully nice people there and had a most enjoyable time, spent a few days at Agra on the return journey, travelled roughly just over 3,000 miles with several nights in the train. A few days after returning the regiment was placed under orders to march 83 miles to Noushera on the frontier border, where over 10,000 British and native troops were concentrated, a similar number at Peshawar farther down the frontier, in readiness for threatened trouble with the Afghans, whom German intriguers had been amongst. Noushera was a cruel place, nothing but a dust heap at the foot of the mountain. We spent several weeks there, training in mountain warfare, my word, it was chronic, the terrific heat and the awful climbing for miles day after day, with all transport on mules and camels through the rocky mountain passes. At one bivouac we encountered bad water, and about forty of our fellows went down with enteric fever [typhoid]. One died, but the others pulled through as they had been inoculated; a wonderful thing inoculation has proved to be in India.
Well in spite of the hard time, we returned to Rawalpindi in fine condition after the Afghan trouble had subsided for the time being, it is always liable to break out at any moment and we are always in readiness to move at any time.
Then we changed to another barracks in Rawalpindi in April, and have been stationed on the plains all the summer. The heat has been intense; one never goes outside after 10am; after tiffin at 1 o'clock the barracks and in fact everywhere is dead to the world until between 5 and 6pm, when sports such as tennis, cricket hockey and swimming at the baths are possible.
Every soldier has a punkah (fan) swinging over his bed all night and during the hours off duty during the day. Many men sleep out on the barrack square on their beds at night. During the past few weeks the monsoon has been on, with torrential rain which I would fail to describe. Now the intense heat of the sun is draining the moisture out of the earth with the result that it is like living in the moist fern house at Kew Gardens, only worse, and many men are being bowled over with fever. Ever since arriving at India, getting on for two years ago, I have been as fit as a fiddle and enjoyed exceptional health, until a fortnight ago, when I was suddenly taken ill with sandfly fever, a most painful, lowering form of fever, and was carried to hospital and also found to be suffering from pleurisy. I was in bed several days subsisting on a small quantity of milk with the result that when I was allowed to get up I was too weak to stand. I was discharged after ten days and am getting on quite alright now, and am leaving on next furlough to a hill station in the Himalayas shortly to recuperate. In November we are on the move again, marching about 80 miles to a big camp, for manoeuvres of several weeks, returning again just before Christmas. But marching eighty miles in five days under an Indian sun is very different to cloudy England. Every regiment in India, both regular and territorial, is being heavily reinforced by drafts from England. We have had three drafts one consisting of nearly 300 men, then another of 67, now another of 84, bringing us up to nearly 1,100 men. There are thousands of British troops, mostly Terriers (members of the Territorial army) (there are only eight regular infantry regiments left in India) stationed at various frontier places, and all sorts of rumours prevalent about a big expedition moving during the next few months, all possible preparations are being made for it, well, if the Indian govt. make as disastrous a muddle of it when the fighting does come off as they made over the Mesopotamia campaign, then with foes like the ferocious Afghans there will be a terrible price to pay in life, for the country and the terrific heat will be enough without having to fight every inch of the way.
I had a very interesting letter from Mr Wood some time ago which I answered recently, also had one from Mr Price a few days ago. I can quite picture the changes which must have occurred in the staff of the Audit since I left. Of course you are over the age limit, so have not been called upon. I expect if, and when, I do return safely that life in England will seem very different under the altered conditions. I shall be glad to get home again and only wish I could see a prospect of doing so, with the conclusion of this terrible war. I have had a very enjoyable time in India (apart from soldiering which I always did enjoy, although I think I have had sufficient now) having made the acquaintance of awfully nice residents in 'Pindi, and by virtue of rank, being allowed the privilege of wearing mufti makes it so much more comfortable when going out of barracks than being in a tight uniform in the climate.
I hear regularly from my wife and little one every week. Am glad to say they are well.
Please convey my kind regards to all those left in the office that I know. Trusting you are all fit and well and that we shall meet again before many more months elapse.
Richard Charles Stanley Frost, 23 August 1916, Devonport, England. Born: 30 January 1888, Regiment: 8th Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders; Duke of Cornwall's Light Infantry, Regiment number: 1998; 300470, Rank: Private; Second Lieutenant, Died: 1962 Transcript
I expect you have heard at the office about me being in England suffering from gas poisoning, and as it is quite a long time since I last wrote to you, no doubt a few lines will be acceptable, to explain matters.
We left the trenches at Vimy Ridge on July 5th, and marching back about 14 miles we eventually reached a village named Ostreville for the purpose of having a divisional rest. The signallers thought an orchard would be very convenient to erect bivouacs in, so when we were busy carrying out this idea an old Frenchman appeared at the scene, and raised objections. However he agreed at last to allow us in at one end of the orchard, thinking, I suppose, that we would wander about his place! We had an enjoyable time here for six days, and then had to return to our old billets near Mount St. Eloi until the whole of the division had retired. We guessed by this move that our 'rest' was over, and the following days were spent in marching, and travelling by motor lorries and train until we arrived at Mericourt Station on July 21st near Albert.
After a delightful swim in the river near the billetwe marched off the following night, to take part in the 'big push.'We slept in an open field that night near Fricourt farm, and were rather rudely awakened by a few German shells landing near us.
For five days we were lying in reserve in this district, and occupied our time in watching an army of men at work in the valley, making roads, railways, boring for water and laying down water pipes, also practicing attacks in the old trenches. It was very interesting to see the great amount of artillery, busy practically all day and night, and to read their messages sent by visual signalling [often using lights] from a ridge across the valley.
Our period in reserve being up, we moved to Mametz Wood to lie there in support for five days, before going into the trenches at High Wood. On arrival at the edge of the wood at night, we were welcomed by a big dose of gas shells and shrapnel, which was applied steadily throughout the night by the German artillery. Having to assist in putting our signalling gear into a hole for safety, I was prevented from using my respirator for the first quarter of an hour, as we could not see on account of the darkness and dust made by the ammunition columns rushing along the road, and it was during this time that I must have breathed in enough gas to put me out of action. Afterwards of course respirators were used, when we were settled in holes by the roadside for the night.
I remained with the battalion until I was sent to the casualty clearing station on August 3rd and reached Rouen hospital the next day. I had to wait until the 9th and crossed the channel from Havre to Southampton on the New Zealand ship Marama, with about 800 other patients, the day after. It was a splendid boat with every convenience for carrying wounded men, and the sisters and orderlies were colonials.
It was last Friday week when I arrived here, and must say it is very comfortable and quiet. I had to remain in bed until last Saturday, but of course I cannot do any route marching yet! So I have to take life quietly, which is no hardship I can assure you after France. I am on an ordinary diet, and taking medicine.
I hear you have Mr Symons back again, is that so? And is he back in the same old spot? I hope he is pretty fit, although I suppose there must be something wrong with him, to be back again.
I suppose things are as quiet as usual with you. Have you had your holidays yet? This is about your time I believe. I shall be glad of a few lines when you have time, to hear the latest about the office.I hope you are keeping fit, also Mr J.B. Taylor and Mr Woodhams and with kind regards to you all.
Just a short note to let you know Im still going strong & feeling hale & hearty. You will have read in the papers during the past few weeks of us having been in a bit of a go & making some captures, well we are still a long way away from any fixed camp or convenience & will probably be in this state for another month. The fighting seems to have settled right out & no Turks about worth speaking of. We are camped out near to where we had our last fight as our horses couldnt have gone much further at the pace we had to work. My word it is the first big Light Horse work of the war and it has been most interesting throughout. I only wish we have more stunts like it. Our casualties were not very great & its surprising in open country how much lead it takes to pot a man. You would like to see the date oases. Just now all the dates are ripe & there are tons & tons everywhere. The country here is soft drift sand for miles & miles & then in the hollows one drops on a clump of palms (4 or 5 acres as a rule). Can get water almost any where at a depth of 2 ft and although brackish quite good & drinkable so you see desert work is not so arduous as the story books make out. Of course there are plenty of drawbacks, but what are we here for?
Certainly theres any amount of growling but you can bet your life its not too bad at all, at all. Got a cheery letter from Ede & Phil the other day. They seem on a good wicket & also mention that things are alright with you & Al. I guess youre kept busy old man, but keep going. I hope to be a help to you when I get back, which may not be so long now Rumania is in. As for Al & Ted give them my best love & tell them I hope to be able to "do a bit" when I get back. I wrote to Mrs Dye & got a very kind invitation to Port Said, but owing to beinginvitedon this stunt, I couldnt get there. I think Mrs Dye will have left for India ere this. She was due to leave about a month ago. Im sorry as I would liked to have met them. Give Clare my fondest regards also all the kiddies. My word they must be growing up. Hope Clare is absolutely OK. Also Alice. Got a letter from Vera Godkin. They all seem well. Lizzie is going well & young Wills last photo showed him as a fine boy. They are in Adelaide. Well old boss, more later. Paper very scarce just at present. Remember me to Bob and Bess Anderson will you also my old friends. Got a real splendid message from Jim Hebbard & the Central chaps two mails ago. Well old man you know the good things I wish you both adieu till we meet again
Got an undated letter from you today but should think it was posted in September. My word old horse you sound cheerful but you are not having the best of time. However I hope the furnaces are now going O.K. again & things are straightening. I am sending you along a fiver for Xmas & hope it arrives safely to give you & the kids a day out in commemoration. Dear old Clare I hope she is doing well. I had made full arrangements to call on Mrs Dye but the Turks came & I did not see. I think she has now gone to India but will find out for certain soon as we are now in a camp having arrived here yesterday evening. Its great to be in a tent again & tomorrow I hope to have the luxury of sleeping in a bed even if it is only made of feed-bags. You can guess it will go alright after not having seen one for three months. Tell Clare she neednt growl about her luck. We suffer here with too little bed. Glad the kidlets are doing so well. Yes I would like a snap of them very much. Sorry Barrett is wounded & hope its nothing very serious. I had heard about Annie Gainer. Its bad luck but it looks almost like a judgment. Give my love to Ede & Al & the other tribes. You didnt mention Al or Ted. Hope they are going alright. Am sending Al along a couple of quidlets for Xmas.
I am going to a Cavalry School for a course on Monday. Its quite a new thing & at present only meant for senior officers. I feel quite favored at being sent along & you can bet Im a trier. Will let you know how I get on. Its at Cairo. We are still miles out in the desert so of course it will be quite a good change too. The square head is getting it hot now. Next summer will see it all over. The smaller fry will peter out & then well get the Kaisers push. Its just a case of time tells only the push hurts the longer it goes. Jacko has left this country pretty well but hell still be a nuisance for some time. Theyll all go though before this time next year. Well old boss more in a week or so. I may cable or I may post the fiver. Hope it comes in time for Xmas. Fondest love to you & Clare & the kidlets & all the tribes. Will see you after the war alright. Tooraloo
Herb J. Wilson
Your very welcome letter to hand a couple of days ago.
I am pleased to hear that the strike is settled and that you lost no time. Well Jack you say that there seems to be a bit of a mystery about us chaps well since the evacuation, last December we have been tossed about a bit & have had three trips across the Meditterean so I reckon that I have been pretty lucky in not meeting any German submarines.
My last trip was from Alexandria to Marceilles, which took six days and then straight out of the boat into the train for another 68 hours ride across France. My word Jack it was a lovely train journey we passed through some beautiful country but I will tell you all about it when I get home again but its hard to say when that will be. Well Jack this is Easter Monday we are moving into the trenches tonight so we will be able to find out for our-selves what sort of fighters the Germans are perhaps I will be able to tell you a bit about them in my next letter.
Well Jack you dont mention what batt your Brother is attached to so next time you write dont forget to let me know as I would only be to pleased to meet him. I say Jack you will have to excuse scribbling as I haven't much time so I will have to close with best wishes to yourself and wife and all the engine room staff.
Arthur Smith, 19 November 1916, Addington Park War Hospital, England. Born: 8 March 1895, Regiment: Railway Troop, Royal Engineers, Regiment number: 87760, Rank: Lance Corporal, Returned to office: 16 June 1919, Retired: 30 September 1955
I expect you wonder what has become of me as you have not heard from me for such a long time. The reason is that since the 20th September I have been suffering with enteric (typhoid). The exact diagnosis of my case being para typhoid B. I have not been up three weeks until next Friday, but since I first got out of bed I have made splendid progress. I was in an isolation hospital in France for six weeks and previous to that in a General Hospital for eight days. I arrived here late last Wednesday night after a very decent journey. This is a beautiful palace surrounded by a park in which we can walk about and we are allowed to go to the post office which is quite near. I am quite happy and comfortable here, it is a splendid hospital. We have a concert or cinema nearly every night in the big hall. Food is good and plentiful. How long it will be before I am considered fit again I have no notion, as a rule it takes months for a person to get right again.
It is a very funny and beastly complaint. During to the whole time I have been in hospital I have received every attention and kindness. During the months of July and August when I was in the Somme district I had a very rough time, was nearly worked to death and had little sleep. At one period we had to commence work at 2am but we were supposed to rest in the day but we could not get any. However, it was all in a good cause and we got through it. Ambulance trains were loaded up at the station where I was and we saw some awful sights. English and German wounded. Perhaps I picked my fever up at this place, but one never knows. While I was in the isolation hospital in France I was kept for three weeks and two days on liquids but I am pleased to say that the doctor has now put me on ordinary diet. With the kindest regards and best wishes to all,
R.C.S. Frost,23 November 1916, Dartmouth, England. Born: 30 January 1888, Regiment: 8th Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders; Duke of Cornwall's Light Infantry, Regiment number: 1998; 300470, Rank: Private; Second Lieutenant, Died: 1962 Transcript
Many thanks for your most welcome and interesting letter safely received, and I am pleased to hear of the latest news about friends at the office and others in different parts of the world.
I have not had a line from H. Martin for many months, but I hear he has had leave recently, and no doubt he gave you a call. I hoped to have had that pleasure before this time, but I expect to be seeing you one of these fine days.
I am still a patient in hospital, and although at times the life is monotonous in this quiet place, it is preferable to France so I won't grumble. The weather has been so rough and wild of late, that a lot our time is spent by the fireside, and many pleasant hours are passed in comparing notes with men who are patients from minesweepers.
We have had different men from this branch of the Navy for several weeks, and at present five are in my ward. Two of these are survivors from a minesweeper that was blown up by a German mine nearly a fortnight ago, just outside Dartmouth Castle. They are still clearing the sea outside here and the boats return to anchor in the river at night, and the pals of these men visit them this evening. The officers are also very good in calling and leaving gifts and the wounded Tommies share in the fruits thereof!
I have heard from Scotland that the 8th Argylls suffered heavily a short time ago in France, and in the newspapers today I notice the names of nine officers who I knew in France, including the Captain of my company who is killed. I don't know if the 6th Seaforths, who are in the same brigade, were in action at the same time, but I shouldn't be surprised, anyhow I hope [Gilbert] Williams came through safely if he was there.
I am enclosing two privilege forms, and will be glad if you will get them signed and returned. I have had some nice afternoons at Torquay and Paignton and was there during the rough weather a short time ago, when the Brixham trawler was wrecked and sea was so rough. I hope this letter will find you very well and undisturbed at the old job. With kind regards to Messrs Taylor, Symons, and Woodhams and accept the same yourself.
I hope you wont mind me the way I send you such spasmodic letters & all that. You cant imagine how things get mixed here & what arrangements we have & their limitations. Still just a line to let you know Im living and pretty healthy generally on it. I hope I can say the same in a week or so as we are expecting some scrap in a few days & I think its going to be heavy at that. However well wait for it before we say any more. Im afraid Im very poor at sending you any description of these things but Ill tell you all about it when I come back. Hope everybody is quite well. Your last letter seemed to show you in a bit of a mix up. I was intending to send you a few quidlets as a Xmas cheerer but was unable to do so. Should you want a few quid let Lizzie know. Her last address was B.H. Shell always do anything possible for you too & you know its your just dues. I think she can manage it alright for you & I am writing her on the subject in case you find it necessary. Sorry old chapsies to hear of all the bad luck, but dont get downhearted. This will all end soon & things will be alright. Wait till I come home. Youll be quite surprised the way things are going to go. So cheers. Hope dear old Clare is up to form again. And also all the kids & Al & Ted & all the others. Tell them some day to expect a letter each, but I dont know when. We are continuously moving & life is fairly strenuous. Our horses are getting What Ho but they are good stuff & stand well. Now excuse this note & dont think Im shelving any questions from your last letter. Fact is Ive come out here in such a hurry that I havent got any of the old letters here. Now heaps & heaps of love to you all. Youll probably get this long after Xmas but lots of fun & a happy New Year.
Hugh Andrew Skilling, 5 January 1917, France. Born: 17 April 1891, Regiment: 3 Battalion Bedfordshire Regiment; 7 London Brigade Field Artillery, Regiment number: 43228, Rank: Lance Corporal, Died: 1970
Just a line to let you know I have not forgotten you. I received a letter on Tuesday 3rd of January 1917 which you sent to me on August 24th 1916. By the marking on the envelope it has been round to various regiments and officers, but it has arrived quite safe at last. I received the letter you wrote in October quite safe. I am sorry I have not written before but we were rather busy when I received your last letter and we could not send more than a field card for about a month. Well I am pleased to tell you that I am still going on first rate. I expect you will be surprised to hear that I have left the Northamptonshire Regiment and am now attached to the Army Printing and Stationary Services. We are opening a new branch in the photography line and I am here as a photographer.
I am unable to tell you more than this up to the present. I expect Harry will be pleased to hear this as he used to give me quite a lot of tuition in this respect.
There are only two of us here up to the present and as the dark rooms are not finished yet we are having an easy time. The Officer is away in England just now getting some more photographic apparatus so we are on our own and I am in charge.
We are billeted with a company of Australian electricians, mechanics, mining and boring engineers and are having a fine time. There are a good lot of fellows and make us very welcome. We had a grand Xmas with them and they know how to enjoy themselves. You can understand what a change this is after being in the line. Just before I came on this job we had over a month in and out of the line waiting to go over the top when the weather was favourable.
We went in for four days then out for a rest for about three days then back again. The water was over our knees in the trenches and it was impossible to use the communication trenches at all. We were holding the front line with two platoons (I should say our boys section of the line). Our platoon was twenty two strong including the Officer, and during the bombardment we had eight put out in ten minutes. There were no dugouts of any description there, so you can imagine what it was like to stand there for four nights. We hoped the weather would be alright so that we could go over and get it done with but it was not to be. We were out digging one night when they let us have it for five hours with gas shells, we had two chaps hit with them and put right out.
The sights and smells were awful, as a good many of the chaps lay just as they fell during the advance. It was impossible to bury them. Also there were about a dozen dead horses round about in the mud that were killed by shell fire while bringing up ammunition for the guns. Our guns never cease down there, as soon as one section stop, another lot open out so you can tell there is Somme noise.
The last time we came out, was for forty eight hours rest then in again and over, but the troops were in such a bad condition that the doctor sent in a report saying we were not fit for the line so two other regiments in our division went over in our place.
We were held in reserve and I am glad to say not required after all. Well I think this is about all, for now, I have been with the A.P. & S.S. since December 1st and I can tell you, I hope I shall stop here. I have no desire to go back to the line. Kindly remember me to all old friends. With kind regards to yourself and all on Section 4.
Henry James Marsh
Now for another budget concerning this trip so far. Well, I left Brisbane on the 21st Dec. at 6.30 A.M. by train for Sydney, arrived at Roma Street at 7 A.M. changed engines for a B.17 and then started on our long journey. The farewell at that Station is something that shall never be forgotten by most men on that train. My people couldn't get into Brisbane to see me as the train I was on left too early before the train from Wynnum arrived in Brisbane, so I said a final good-bye the night before. I shall never forget that particular night. I always though it took something very awful to break me up, but that night broke me up completely. I would give anything now to have just a look at my dear home and parents, but the ship is taking me further away each kick with the propeller. Anyhow I am looking forward in the future to seeing Wynnum and my parents after I have done my duty at the front. In camp at Enoggera is a splendid life to be at: he can go where he likes, but when once you leave for the front you are tied down to orders, now one has to be a dinkum soldier, I can see how it is one doesn't want to enlist, but I do not dislike the game, I am only giving you the idea of the whole concern so far as I have seen of it.
It is quite a long time since I wrote you or received any from you. I think I wrote Clare after receiving her boshter cake & I hope you got that alright. I never got Edes pudding & whether it fell through the mail-bag or not is a matter of conjecture. Perhaps they thought by the weight it was a bomb or shell & heaved it out of the mail. I believe the maximum weight allowed though is 11 lbs. Still hard luck. It may turn up yet & I am living in hopes. Glad to see things are brightening again old cock. You are certainly having a very rough time of it. Everybody is but I think you are getting more than your share. However I am very pleased to see you are both as game as ever. Old pals I hope to be a bit of use when I got back & whatever comes my way be sure you are the first for a "cut". Poor old Al & Ted have been up against it a lot. I must write them today. Both Ede & Nell seem very happy. I often get letters from Morgan now. Vera & Win & Nell all take a turn. Suppose all the kids are quite grown up now & swanky. Would like to see them. Youve certainly got a crowd round you. How would a farm go? Youd have enough labor to work it. I often get letters from the firm & think if you care about it I could work the oracle for you when I get back to get fixed up in something good. So keep battling & save those quarter shares of [Tatts?]. Hope youve hooked some more ere this.
We had our last battle in Palestine. Its a wonderful country, what we saw of it. And I would like a chance at getting land there. The horses had a good go in on wheat crops. We lost 4 officers. It makes one think a bit. However Ive got a good way of standing side on. My name went in for a decoration but dont know if it will come out. Some do & some dont. I tried to transfer to the flying Corps but my Colonel wouldnt stand me. And he wont give me a rise so there you are. Still all good things come to those who wait. Got a letter from Aunt Molly w.a. & Tommy in France some weeks ago. They both mentioned receiving letters from you. I have written them. Lizzie must be very downhearted. I get very few letters from her lately. 2 in seven weeks. I guess shes pretty miserable. Think this will end this year. We are doing much more than the papers say in the way of preparation. The Hit of the war will be about May & it will finish one way or other then. Love to you both & the kidlets. Keep up bravely as you have done, the road is sure to get easier directly
Harry Beaumont, 2 March 1917, Aratia, Yemen, Born: 17 October 1873, Regiment: 1/6 East Surrey Regiment, Regiment number: 2297, Rank: Quarter Master Sergeant, Died: 1952 Transcript
Many thanks for your long and interesting letter, which has now reached me, I will to it at length at a more opportune moment.
As you will see by above address I have left India. The regiment left the N.W. Indian frontier in January where the winter had been bitterly cold and embarked at Karachi after a three day's train journey, then six day's most pleasant voyage to Aden where we landed and now join part of the Aden Field Force. I have been stationed with a strong detachment on the desert in close proximity to a Turkish force who frequently shelled us, but without any material damage. The heat after the cold winter in India is very trying, scorching hot sun, endless sand and myriads of torturing flies. Life is very different here as compared to India. I never pictured myself riding across the Arabian dessert on a camel. Am pleased to say I am splendidly fit and well, but should be glad when the struggle is over and hope I shall be amongst those who return home safely.
Trusting you are well. Best of wishes, kind regards to the remnants of the Audit staff.
Born: 1 April 1893, Regiment: Royal Flying Corps, Regiment number: 16922, Rank: 1st class Air Mechanic, Returned to office: 10 March 1919, Retired: Resigned on 25 March 1925.
No doubt you think that I have forgotten all about you and my friends of the Audit, but never let it be said (this is an army term, if you please.) Truth to tell I have been going to write time after time, but have had to put it off for various reasons. I am taking this opportunity of writing to you, while I am in charge of tonights guard. I get this job about once a week now, its not so bad, I have three men and a man in waiting; we mount at 5pm and dismiss at 7am. We make ourselves as comfortable as we can, in the guard tent, which just covers over the top of the sand bags, and these have got grass growing out of them now. The sand bags are about 4ft high and make a good protection. April 1st I got my two stripes up, after being a 1st Air Mechanic for 12 months, the Non- Commissioned Officers have a very decent mess here, and everything is ok. I am corporal in charge of wireless, photographic, electrical and all instruments used on aeroplanes, I have had a very good education on all those subjects, but the one I like best is the wireless, its far more interesting than photography, which is a very big thing indeed out here, and a lot depends upon a good photograph of the Hun lines
Yesterday I saw a nice little game between one of ours and one of theirs, after our anti-aircraft fire had taken it up a bit higher, our machine went for it and got well over the top of it, then two more of ours came along and forced it down, she tried all manner of tricks, but down she came alright, and landed a clean machine, not broken in any part, and the two Huns inside it quite well.
We gave a revue (theatrical show) to our chaps here on the 13th, it went off alright, we started at 9pm and gave a two hours show, am enclosing programme, and will forward a photo of myself as the oldest inhabitant as soon as I receive them from the Frenchman who took themKind regards to all of the section and the remainder of the agreements, and hoping you are fit and well. Good bye.
Blackpool training depot, England. Regiment: Royal Army Medical Corps, 97469, Rank: Private, Enlisted: 6 June 1916, Discharged: 21 July 1919
Am enclosing a photo of myself, it is, I have been told, not a good likeness, but there it is. We have any amount of lectures on the body etc., and presently have to pass an examination, if successful the red crosses are issued and also 4d (pennies) per day extra pay.
Leave is only granted once in nine months and then only six days at the most, in some cases only four is given, so I shall not be up yet, but will make a point of course of coming up to Paddington when I do get a chance.
Blackpool is a lovely place and the weather now is grand, although the first fortnight was bitterly cold.
Well I must now close, with a hope to hear from you shortly, please give my kind regards to all acquaintances.
Kenneth William Sharland, 26 July 1917, Pashan Camp, Kirkee, India. Born: 25 September 1888, Regiment: 1/6 East Surrey Regiment; Bedfordshire Regiment; Bedfordshire and Hertfordshire Regiment, Regiment number: 34173; 32376, Rank: Private, Died: Jan-
The writing mood is on me so I take the opportunity to send you a few lines to let you know how I am getting on, at the same time hoping that at some future date I may have the pleasure of hearing from you. Your letter is bound to be very interesting to me as I have not seen or heard from anybody at Paddington for over six months.
I left Aldershot on March 16th and travelled as far as Durban via Sierra Leone and Cape Town on the White Star Liner Suevic. This part of the journey was delightful, the food and accommodation was very good for a troopship. Of course this is accounted for by the fact that it is an Australian troopship. Everything was done that could be to make the journey enjoyable for the one thousand seven hundred men on board. We stayed just outside Sierre Leone for three days but were not allowed to leave. We arrived at Cape Town on Saturday afternoon four weeks after leaving Keyham and had a route march round the town the same evening. The next day we were allowed to roam about at will all day and a right jolly time we had although it was very hot indeed for winter. Cape Town is a beautiful place and the inhabitants made our visit very enjoyable.
The patriotism of the South African is wonderful to us after the coolness of the English (especially Aldershot). On the Monday we sailed for Durban arriving there on the Thursday evening after a rather rough journey round the Cape. We did not land till the Saturday afternoon and then bid goodbye to the Suevic. She went on to Australia. We had two weeks at Durban and had a glorious time in a rest camp on Ocean Beach. Every day we went bathing and only had parades up to 12 noon each day. The trams were free to us all over the city and invitations were showered upon us by the English residents. You can rest assured that we were very sorry to leave such a delightful spot, still all good things come to end and we finally had to go on board the Laconia belonging to the Cunard company for four weeks misery, we lay in the harbour for one week longing to go ashore before we started on the last stage of our journey to India. This ship was actually lousy (infested with lice) and we had to put up with a shirt inspection every day. The food was bad and very little of it and to back it all up the canteen was rotten as well. I was glad to get to Bombay and get off such a rotten ship. I lost a stone in weight during that four weeks.
We arrived in India during the monsoon period and have had plenty of rain more than we like I can assure you.
Kirkee is only about hundred miles from Bombay and is about six thousand feet above the sea. We will while here never have the extremes of weather as the climatic conditions are considered to be ideal here.
Strange as it may seem to English people native women do most of the work here, and actually act as bricklayers labourers carrying pans of mortar on their heads, the men do very little indeed. Sunday is the same as any other day to them. As they have their own religious days when they have what they call Ram Jamees. All cartage is done by oxen and is rather slow and cumbersome. Kirkee Bazar is about three quarters of an hours walk from Pashan Camp and is rather interesting but is very dirty, children run about naked and the drainage and dwellings are very bad indeed. Cigarettes made by the Turkish tobacco company Bandra can obtained for eleven annas (former unit of Indian currency) per 100 (eleven pence) and are very good indeed, being better than the Nebka. Poona is the nearest city and is about five miles away. I walked there last Thursday to have a look round, this place boasts of one or two hotels and an Italian restaurant but is otherwise an exact counterpart of Kirkee and quite as dirty. The Italian restaurant is very good and is quite the equal of most London restaurants.
We do not receive a very many letters out here, as the mail is so uncertain, we never know when the next one will arrive.
When you are writing you must let me know all the news, I wonder whether your section will ever be established again as it was before.
Since I came out here I have taken up signalling and find it very useful, there is just a possibility I might be able to learn wireless, if so I dont doubt that it might be useful to me, when we get back to Blighty if there is half a chance to do so I will cease it.
Our Battalion is at Aden and unless the signalling alters my destination I will eventually find myself there. It is not exactly the place I should choose if I had my own way but of course there is no choice about it.
Well I think I have given you all the news now and am sure you are tired of reading this letter by now, so will close with best wishes to you all from,
We are in the Army now. I am sitting inside our little old tent listening to the gentle patter of the raindrops on the canvas. It began raining here this morning and it is still at it. No drill today, so I will have time to write a letter or two. We got into the city all O.K., marched up to the armory and had dinner. They have mess in the armory. We have to march back and forth to eat. Eats are pretty good so far as they have some women helping with the cooking.
Set up camp in the afternoon. Shoemaker has been Acting Corporal in our squad. We got the tent up all right under the direction of one of the old heads who has seen service on the border. Some equipment was issued in the afternoon. As my name is down well in the list, I have not received anything yet in my own name.
Corporal Hilton is staying in town so he let me have his stuff. Got pack, gun, poncho, and numerous other things I don't know what are used for. Slept on the ground last night in a tent with just an even dozen in it. Some of the fellows are staying in town at hotels, rooming houses, and private houses. Taken altogether, things are in rather poor shape as yet, but I suppose it takes a little time to get around. A few of the bunch act like a bunch of bums instead of soldiers, but they will get that taken out of them when they get to a real camp.
They got Parker Melliush for kitchen duty the first thing. Walter Anthony was stuck for guard duty last night. It must be fine walking up and down in front of a row of tents watching the other fellows sleep. One thing they did do, everybody had to quiet down at ten-thirty last night. We had a good entertainment before lights out. (We had a light, too, as some of the bunch got hold of a lantern.) A fellow in our squad by the name of Donald gets off some pretty good comedy -- original stuff, too. He is a rather rough nut, but not as bad as some of this crowd.
There was some crowd at the station yesterday, wasn't there? I think I shook hands with everybody in town three or four times. Not a very pleasant task under the circumstances, either. Well, I got so much company in here that I can't think straight. This is rather a poor excuse of a letter, but I will write again soon.
James Claude Kibblewhite, 1 September 1917, Malta. Born: 14 June 1895, Regiment: 2/13 Battalion London Regiment, Regiment number: 490602, Rank: Sergeant, Died: 20 December 1951 Transcript
I trust you will excuse the liberty I have taken in writing you, after such a long absence from England, but the difficulties of active service is my excuse, although I am sorry to say laziness has a lot to do with it.
No doubt you will wonder what I am doing wasting my time in Malta; well, I came here last January through an attack of dysentery followed by constipation, there I remained, and am likely to do so, unless something very unexpected happens.
I have been taken on the temporary staff, and am acting as parade staff sergeant, quite a nice easy position, except when we are receiving or sending troops away.
How are things in general, looking at Paddington, I suppose the office is full of ladies and men who are over the age limit.
I saw a Great Western Magazine a few days ago, and I noticed that a large number of the 'chiefs' have retired, also that Artlett has not given up trying to bring sports honours to the Audit with the Bowls team.
The weather here is absolutely glorious, and our camp is right against the sea, we get some lovely bathing and boating, in fact it is almost as good as any resort in England.
We are about ten miles from Valletta, but we can always get a ride in a motor lorry or a gharry (horse-drawn cab) I have only met one G.W. man since I have been here and that is Cowles of the Agreements. He has been here since the Dardanelles; and he is acting chief clerk to the commanding officer of the Company Camp...
I have not given up hope of getting to England yet, as since I have been here I have contracted malaria, also my heart is not good enough to allow me to carry a pack for a while, so I have been marked unfit for over three months, and I may give you all a surprise by walking into the office one of these fine days.
Well, sir, when is the war going to end, I think it would have been all over now, bar the shouting, if it had not been for Russia.
I think the Great Western Railway according to the magazine have reaped a fair share of the awards for bravery etc, on the field.
Well, sir, I trust it will not be long before I have the pleasure of receiving a reply to my letter, and kindly remember me to all that are left of the old room 19
Mitchell Library, State Library of New South Wales Letter from Frederick Johnson Board, 7 September 1917 MLMSS 9269 / Folder 6 [Page 1] 3rd London General Hospital Wandsworth 7-9-17
Doubtless you have heard that I got plugged some time ago and as a consequence have been in Hosp for the last 9 weeks or more, and am now being invalided back to Australia for 6 months, so I may have a chance of seeing you, if I have to go to Brisbane on arrival. The whole trouble rose through getting in the road of a Bosch high-explosive shell, which practically burst amongst 6 of us, killing one Officer (an Artillery chap) and wounding the other 5 of us. I unfortunately stopped 4 pieces of the ironmongery (2 in the knee, and 2 lower down) made rather a mess of the knee for a while, but it is getting on pretty well now & although I cant put much weight on it, I can get about fairly well on the patent crutches they gave me here. One Dr reckoned it would take 6 months to get right & the other doesnt think it ever be much good, but I think he's wrong, anyhow instead of hanging about here for 6 months, they are sending me to Sunny Australia for the same period & to see if the leg will get better. I had no idea it was going to take so long and was very disappointed at having to give up my old Battalion which was doing so well after having practically selected its personnel & officers and been with it for 18 months. I tell you it hurts to give up the old Unit, and had it over to someone else probably for good.
Do you remember Major Heron of the 42nd (used to be Capt Heron when they left Queensland) well he took over the 41st when I left it, and as far as I know still has command, with Major Sheridan as second in command. Your favourite (Capt French) was still going strong when I left and was in command of C Coy. He is still a great ladykiller(?) in fact he had the chance of 10 days leave to Paris just before I went there, but wouldnt take it, but he was keen on getting leave to England.. Hastings I guess, eh? By jove Paris was great, it is some" place, I can tell you, and dont the women dress, it isnt so much what they put on, but the way they wear it. It is by a long way the prettiest City I've seen & I dont think London can hold a candle to it. London may be larger but I dont think it is nearly so pretty.
Well how is your Patriotic work getting on these days? I suppose you are as busy as ever, and as hard worked as ever in the interests of The Boys. Really you girls deserve the D.S.O. for all your splendid services. Do you know that the first suit of pyjamas I put on when I got into this Hosp was labelled from the Brisbane Courier Fund funny isnt it? It shows how far reaching are the results of various Colonial efforts. Well Im off to bed now, will probably be leaving for Australia in a day or two.Kindest regards to Mollie & yourself. Hoping to see you later on U boats permitting.
Frederick Ernest Andrews, 16 October 1917, France Born: 15 November 1879, Regiment: Railway Operation Division, Royal Engineers, Regiment number: 218857, Rank: Sapper, Returned to office: 26 May 1919, Retired: 15 November 1939 Transcript
Just a few lines to let you know how things are going with me, I have been going to write to before this, but on each occasion I have had to postpone it for some reason or other. I have been at this place since April. It is a fairly large city and has at one time been a very nice place, but it is now a heap of ruins, not a habitable house anywhere and no civilians, it is the nearest railhead to this part of the line and when we first came here things were pretty lively, but Fritz is gradually being pushed back here and has not troubled us for some time now I don't mind if he has forgotten we're here. Naldrett, Dawson and Anglesey and several other Audit chaps were up here a short time ago, but their detachment has now been moved to another part of the line, they are on the Light Railway and shift about more.
It was nice to meet some of the old office pals again and I spent several pleasant hours with them while they were here, for I am the only G.W. man in this detachment. McMeeken is in the Railway Transport Officer's office about three miles from here and I see him occasionally. I was very sorry to hear of the deaths of Pond and Woodhams and no doubt there are other casualties amongst our office chaps but I seldom hear any office news. Our family has had to pay the penalty of war that so many thousands of families have done, for I am now the only one out here, one brother has just been discharged after nine months in hospital, the second one was killed at Ypres about a month ago and the third is now in a London hospital with a bad shrapnel wound in the thigh. I have had a variety of jobs, including navvy's work, carrying rails and sleepers, guard, point oiler and various other jobs. I am now a checker and number taker which job suits me much better, for it combines a lot of indoor clerical work with outdoor checking and now that we have to face another winter out here, it will be something to spend a little of my time indoors for I still have memories of last winter under canvas, but I shall not be so badly off this winter for we are living in railway vans which will be much warmer. I have now been in France nearly nine months and there does not appear to be any prospect of leave, for there are more here who have been eighteen months without leave and at the rate the R.O.D. men are going at present it will be well into next year before my turn comes.
I understand that north London has suffered rather badly in the recent air raids but I hope you came through all right. My wife and family have had to get away from home, for it was upsetting their nerves and I am pleased to think that they are out of the danger zone. I am keeping fairly fit in health and always manage to keep cheery, which wants a bit of doing sometimes especially now the muddy season has started, but let's hope this will be our last out here and by this time next year we may be all settling down to civilian life again.
Please remember me to Mr Wood, Bert Hunt and all other Audit friends.
This transcript is from a letter by Private Leonard Hart to his parents on 19 October 1917. Hart describes in detail the terrible events of 12 October 1917 when New Zealand troops were asked to take the Bellvue Spur, near Passchendaele. Historian Jock Phillip writes, 'this distressing, but accurate, description of the battle ... is a remarkable piece of writing, particularly given Hart's lack of formal education.' The transcript is from Jock Phillips and Nicholas Boyack (eds), The great adventure, New Zealand soldiers describe the First World War, Allen and Unwin, Wellington, 1998
In a postcard which I sent you about a fortnight ago, I mentioned that we were on the eve of a great event, and that I had no time to write you a long letter. Well that great event is over now, and by some strange act of fortune I have once again come through without a scratch.
The great event mentioned consisted of a desperate attack by our Division against a ridge, strongly fortified and strongly held by the Germans, but the name of which I had better not mention. For the first time in our brief history as an army the New Zealanders failed in their objective with the most appalling slaughter I have ever seen. My Company went into action 180 strong and we came out thirty-two strong. Still, we have nothing to be ashamed of as our commander afterwards told us that no troops in the world could possibly have taken the position, but this is small comfort when one remembers the hundreds of lives that have been lost and nothing gained.I will give you an account of the battle as near as I can without meaning any names or exasperating the censor (should he happen to open this) too much.
On a certain Wednesday evening our Brigade received orders to proceed to the firing line and relieve a Brigade of Tommies who had two nights previously advanced their positions a distance of two thousand yards and had held the captured ground against several counter attacks by the Huns. These Tommies had, however, failed to take their last objective and we knew before we left that we were going to be put over the top to try and take it. At dusk we started off from the town where we had been billeted for a few days, in full fighting order, to proceed to the front line. Our track led over five miles of newly conquered ground without lines of communication, roads, or anything but shell holes half full of water. The weather had for some days been wet and cold and the mud was in places up to the knees. We struggled on through this sea of mud for some hours, and everyone was feeling pretty well done. It was quite common for a man to get stuck in the mud and have to get three or four to drag him out. You can have no idea of the utter desolation caused by modern shell fire. The ground we were traversing had all been deluged with our shells before being taken from the Germans, and for those five miles leading to our front line trench there was nothing but utter desolation, not a blade of grass, or tree, here and there a heap of bricks marking where a village or farmhouse had once stood, numerous ‘tanks’ stuck in the mud, and for the rest, just one shell hole touching another.
The torn up condition of the ground made the mud ten times worse than it would otherwise have been. The only structures which had stood the bombardment in any way at all were the German machine gun emplacements. These emplacements are marvellous structures made of concrete with walls often ten feet thick and the concrete reinforced throughout with railway irons and steel bands and bars. There is room inside them for a large number of men but of course they vary in size. Many of these emplacements had been shattered to pieces in spite of their strength but others had withstood the bombardment. The ground was strewn with the corpses of numerous Huns and Tommies. Dead horse and mules lay everywhere, yet no attempt had been made to bury any of them. Well, we at length arrived at our destination – the front line and relieved the worn out Tommies. They had not attempted to dig trenches but had simply held the line by occupying a long line of shell holes, two or three men to each hole. Many of them seemed too worn out to walk properly and I don’t know how some of them must have got on during their long tramp through the mud back to billets.
Each of us had a shovel with him, so we set to work to make some kind of trenches. We were at this point about half way up one slope of the ridge which in the course of fortyeight hours we were to try and take. The mud was not so bad here owing to the water being able to run away into a swamp at the foot of the ridge. Anyway by daybreak we had dug ourselves in sufficiently and, although wet and covered in mud from head to foot, we felt fit for a feed of bread and bully beef, for breakfast. We stayed in our new trenches all that day and the day following during which it rained off and on, and Fritz kept things lively with his artillery. At 3 o’clock on the third morning we received orders to attack the ridge at half past five, which was just before daylight. We were accordingly arranged in three successive waves or lines; each wave about fifty yards ahead of the other. There was a certain amount of difficulty in this operation as it was pitch dark and raining heavily. When all was ready we were told to lay down and wait the order to charge. My Company was in the first wave of the attack which partly accounted for our heavy casualties. Our artillery barrage (curtain of fire) was to open out at twenty past five and play on the German positions on top of the ridge 150 yards ahead of us. It was to move forward fifty yards in every four minutes – that is to say we were to advance as our barrage advanced and keep 100 to 150 yards behind it.
At twenty past five to the second, and with a roar that shook the ground, some three thousand of our guns opened out on the five mile sector of the advance. (The whole advance was on a five mile front and our Brigade occupied about a thousand yards of this front forming the centre of the advance. Our Rifle Brigade was on our left and a Tommy Division on the left of them again. An Australian Division was on our right and another Tommy Division on the right of them again.) Through some blunder our artillery barrage opened up about two hundred yards short of the specified range and thus opened right in the midst of us. It was a truly awful time – our own men getting cut to pieces in dozens by our own guns. Immediate disorganisation followed. I heard an officer shout an order to the men to retire a short distance and wait for our barrage to lift. Some, who heard the order, did so. Others, not knowing what to do under the circumstances, stayed where they were, while others advanced towards the German positions, only to be mown down by his deadly rifle and machine gun fire.
At length our barrage lifted and we all once more formed up and made a rush for the ridge. What was our dismay upon reaching almost to the top of the ridge to find a long line of practically undamaged German concrete machine gun emplacements with barbed wire entanglements in front of them fully fifty yards deep. The wire had been cut in a few places by our artillery but only sufficient to allow a few men through it at a time. Even then what was left of us made an attempt to get through the wire and a few actually penetrated as far as his emplacements only to be shot down as fast as they appeared. Dozens got hung up in the wire and shot down before their surviving comrades’ eyes. It was now broad daylight and what was left of us realised that the day was lost. We accordingly lay down in shell holes or any cover we could get and waited. Any man who showed his head was immediately shot. They were maravellous shots those Huns. We had lost nearly eighty per cent of our strength and gained about 300 yards of ground in the attempt. This 300 yards was useless to us for the Germans still held and dominated the ridge. We hung on all that day and night. There was no one to give us orders, all our officers of the Battalion having been killed or wounded with the exception of three, and these were all Second Lieutenants who could not give a definite order about the position without authority. All my Company officers were killed outright one of them the son of the Reverend Ryburn of Invercargill, was shot dead beside me.
The second day after this tragic business, we were surprised to see about half a dozen Huns suddenly appear waving a white flag. They proved to be red cross men and the flag was a sign that they were asking for a truce to take in their wounded and bury their dead. It was granted and not a shot was fired on either side during the whole of that afternoon. It was a humane and gallant act and one worthy of such gallant defenders as those particular Huns certainly were. Our stretcher bearers were able to go and take all our wounded from the barbed wire, a thing that would have been impossible otherwise. Numbers of us who at ordinary times had nothing to do with stretcher bearing were put on and we had all the wounded carried out before nightfall. We had no time to bury many of our dead but the wounded should be the only consideration at times like that. I went out and buried poor Ryburn. He came with the Main Body, but had not been in France long. The proportion of killed to wounded was exceptionally high compared to other battles, owing to the perfect marksmanship of the German machine gunners and snipers. My Company has come out with no officers, only one Sergeant out of seven, one Corporal and thirty men. Even then we are not the worst off.
T he third night after the advance we were relieved and taken back about three miles behind the line. Here we acted as a reserve to the Battalion which had taken over our sector for two days, and we were finally taken right out to billets well behind the line where we are now recuperating. The night we came out here I received a parcel from you. The note inside was dated 10/7/17, and I can tell you that I felt hungry enough to eat note and all. I received another parcel from you about three days before we shifted to this front which would be about three weeks ago. They were appreciated about as well as it is possible to appreciate anything, I can assure you. Your letters of Mamma’s 25/7/17, Connie’s of same date and Dad’s of 7/7/17 arrived about a week before the affair of the ridge. A number of our chaps who came through have since been sent to hospital chiefly with trench feet due to standing in cold mud for long hours. I have a touch of them myself but they are not bad enough to be sent away with. I have just decided to have this letter posted by someone going on leave to England, so I will tell you a few more facts which it would not have been advisable to mention otherwise.......
Fighting of a very successful nature had been going on around Ypres for some months previous to our late set back at the ridge where the British are now held up. I hear that another attempt is to be made to take it, but it will not be with our Division. The name of this famous ridge is Passchendaele Ridge, and it has defied two attempts to take it already – viz the one attempted by the Tommies whom we relieved and our own......
The results of our stunt you now know so no more need be said about it except that we did as well or even better that some of the Divisions on our right and left. None of them took their objectives and I know for a fact that our Third Brigade’s losses and those of the Australians were every bit as heavy as ours. The Second Brigade has at least the satisfaction of knowing that they held a few hundred yards of ground they took, and our commander has since told us that no troops in the world could possibly have taken the ridge under similar circumstances. Some ‘terrible blunder’ has been made. Someone is responsible for that barbed wire not having been broken up by our artillery. Someone is responsible for the opening of our barrage in the midst of us instead of 150 yards ahead of us. Someone else is responsible for those machine gun emplacements being left practically intact, but the papers will all report another glorious success, and no one except those who actually took part in it will know any different.
In conclusion I will relate to you another little incident or two which never reaches the press, or if it does it is ‘censored’ in order to deceive the public. This almost unbelievable but perfectly true incident is as follows. During the night after we had relieved the Tommies prior to our attack on the ridge we were surprised to hear agonised cries of ’stretcher bearer’, ‘help’, ‘For God’s sake come here’ etc, coming from all sides of us. When daylight came some of us, myself included, crawled out to some adjacent shell holes from where the cries were coming and were astonished to find about half a dozen Tommies, badly wounded, some insane, others almost dead with starvation and exposure, lying stuck in the mud and too weak to move. We asked one man who seemed a little better than the rest what was the meaning of it and he said that if we cared to crawl about the shell holes all round about him we would find dozens more in similar plight.
We were dumbfounded, but the awful truth remained. These chaps, wounded in the defence of their country, had been callously left to die the most awful of deaths in the half frozen mud while tens of thousands of able bodied men were camped within five miles of them behind the lines. All these Tommies (they were mostly men of the York and Lancaster Regiment) had been wounded during their unsuccessful attack on the ridge which we afterwards tried to take and at the time when we came upon them they must have been lying where they fell in the mud and rain for four days and nights. Those that were still alive had subsisted on the rations and water that they had carried with them or else had taken it from dead comrades beside them. I have seen some pretty rotten sights during the two and half years of active service, but I must say that this fairly sickened me. We crawled back to our trenches and inside of an hour all our stretcher bearers were working like the heroes that they were, and in full view of the enemy who, to his credit, did not fire on them. They worked all day carrying out those Tommies of whom I am afraid some will be mad men for the rest of their lives even if they do recover from their wounds and exposure.
Carrying wounded over such country often knee deep in mud is the most trying work imaginable, and I do not say for a moment that the exhausted Tommies (the survivors of the first attack on Passchendale Ridge) whom we relieved should have tried to carry them out for I do not believe that any of them were physically capable of doing it, but I do say that it was part of their officers’ duty to send back to the rear of the lines and have fresh men brought up to carry out the wounded that they themselves could not carry. Perhaps they did send back for help, but still the fact remains that nothing was done until our chaps came up, and whoever is responsible for the unnecessary sacrifice of those lives deserves to be shot more than any Hun ever did.
If they had asked for an armistice to carry out their wounded I do not doubt that it would have been granted for the Huns had plenty of wounded to attend to as well as the Tommies. I suppose our armchair leaders call this British stubbornness. If this represents British stubbornness then it is time we called it by a new name. I would suggest callous brutality as a substitute. Apparently this is not an isolated instance of its kind. While we were in reserve for two days to the Brigade which finally took over from us I was having a look around some old German dugouts and in one of them I came upon about fifty dead Tommies all lying spread out over the floor as though they had been thrown in there hastily. They had evidently been dead some months. I asked an artillery Sergeant Major standing near by how they all came to be in there and he told me that they had been put in there (while wounded) during the advance last July, and had been forgotten. If this were true then it is even worse than the case just mentioned, for these dugouts must have been within a mile of our main dressing stations at the time when the advance took place, and the distance to carry them was thus five times less than in the other case.
After reading this do not believe our lying press, who tell you that all the brutality of this war is on the Huns’ side. The Hun is no angel, we all know, and the granting of an armistice such as that which we had is a rare occurrence. The particular Regiments who were holding the ridge at the time our attack are known as ‘Jaegers’. Probably the Prussians or most of the other Hun Regiments do not ask for armistices, but for all the terrific casualties those Jaegers inflicted on us, we survivors of Passchendaele Ridge must all admit that they played the game on that occasion at any rate......
William Charles Frederick Wiggs, letter sent 23 December 1917, field card sent 8 January 1918, France. Born: 2 February 1881, Regiment: Royal Engineers, Railway Troop, Regiment number: 218855, Rank: 2nd Corporal, Died: Oct-Dec 1971
I hope you will accept my apology for not writing before. It has not been want of will it has been lack of opportunity. I wonder how you all are. I am fairly well now but was very queer for several weeks recently. I also often wonder how you are all getting on and should like to hear.
A matter of about five minutes ago Fritz was bombing us, and I have just got up off the ground where I was laying for about twenty minutes. One fellow has been hit, but not severely by shrapnel. This is his second visit this evening.
It will soon be twelve months since I left you. It seems a very long time ago. I am afraid I have very little I may tell you, so will conclude by asking you to accept my best wishes for the New year and desiring that you will remember me kindly to any enquiring friends. Believe me, dear Mr Smith,
I write this on board a boat that will leave for overseas soon. Our letters are all censored from now on so there is no use wasting my time and the censor's trying to tell you some things.
I took in a little of New York last night. I went into the city from Long Island by the way of the tube under the Hudson River. I got out at the Pennsylvania station and spent the rest of the night to 1:30 a.m. just looking around. There wasn't any chance to go to a good show because you know how the advance sales take everything. Harry Lauder is at the Metropolitan and I would certainly like to have seen him.
I saw where the film "The Beast of Berlin" was being shown and right across the street was Arthur Guy Empey, "Over the Top".
The city is full of soldiers and sailors all the time, I guess. Anyway there were a good many last night.
The city is an easy place to get lost because of the irregularity of the streets. Most all streets out our way cross each other at angles but in N.Y. they may take any direction. I walked down one street and when I took a notion to turn and go back, I wasn't on the same street at all and I couldn't tell where I made any turn.
I got a good look at the city from the waterfront today. It was a bright clear day and we could see quite a distance. I have seen pictures of N.Y. from the Hudson and I can say that the real thing was just a picture laid before you. I would like to have stayed at Camp Mills until I had seen more of the city but the powers that be see otherwise.
I can scarcely realize we are going. Everything moves off without any trouble or delay that it might just as well be a trip up the river.
Well, I have been looking forward to this for quite a while and I guess, now that the time for going has come, it fits right into my scheme and ways of thinking that the going seems only a small part of it.
Well, I must close so as to mail this right away so, goodbye little girl for a time at least. Keep on writing.
James Walter Hyam, 15 April 1918, Roorkee, India. Born: 24 July 1891, Regiment: 11 Hussars, C. Squadron; Royal Field Artillery; Royal Garrison Artillery, Regiment number: 223725; 184963, Rank: Gunner, Died: 1951 When James Hyam, also nick-named Fatty, wrote from India he used these three postcards which showed different scenes from Alexandria in Egypt where he had 'a grand time' en-route to India. Transcript
Have arrived in India for the purpose of relieving some A1 (military fitness category meaning capable of active service overseas) men here who have been here for a long period. It's not a bad show here just above Delhi but so d____d hot: risen to 106 degrees in the shade and we have more hot weather just coming. Our parades are as follows 6.30-7.45 and 9 to 10 and finish for day. There is an abundance of sport and grub here. Fancy getting eggs laid too. A supper of say new mutton chop, potatoes, peas, broccoli and tea 4d.
The things that are expensive are goods from England especially English soap, sauces, writing paper and of course we are unable to get English made fags. We had a grand journey from England; route was Southampton to Cherbourg then to Italy. In Italy we went to Alexandria, stayed there three days had a grand time, streets of red lamps etc. and lovely shops. No two houses in main stretch are alike. Then from Alexandria we come to Port Suez by train then on P. and O. Liner Kaiser I. Hind to Bombay had two days there and that's a grand place too, lovely wide streets and grand buildings. They have a sea front very much like Hastings and all the big boys have their after dinner drive there and form a queue by shore. Some stuff there too. Lots of Europeans knocking about too. Had a game of footer for the Railway Operatives depot last night, 6pm, with Kingls Own and won. But it was so ruddy warm and I felt like a wash out at finish.
I received my first mail since I have gotten across yesterday. Two letters from you are dated April 19 and the other April 22. The first one was written before you had heard my N.Y. address and the other was addressed to Camp Mills. They were indeed highly appreciated letters and I believe that I can look for more right soon as the mail has begun to come now. There were two other letters for me also; one from Mother and Ethel . the other from James.Probably James Gasaway, a boyhood friend. The last was of the most recent date: May 6. This was certainly an excited company when we found out there was so much mail for us. Almost everyone got at least one letter and a few were as fortunate as myself.
I was rather surprised to hear that Robert was going into the R.F.C. although you had told me of it, too. But to know that he had already left for camp and by the time you get this letter he will probably be in England was just a bit of a surprise. Well, I am glad that he is in the service but, of course, I would like to have seen him in a uniform of the U.S.A. It is all one cause, however, and we are comrades just the same whether American, English, or what. I have seen some mighty fine men from Britain just what short time I have been here. (My pen went dry and I haven't any ink at my elbow as I did in U.S.) Speaking of the English, it is wonderful how men can go through three and four years of this war and still be smiling, cheerful, good-natured fellows, but they are. I agree with Robert when he says there will be two classes of men in America after the war -- the ones who went, and the ones who did not. And I believe as he does the ones who went are going to be the ones who will have charge of affairs when they get back for, if a man stands this war and still comes out smiling, he is a man. I certainly hope I may have a chance of seeing Robert over here but it would be only an accident I am afraid. Let me know his address from time to time so if there is any way of seeing him, I will do all I can to find him.
You must have a nice home now and right in your old neighborhood. And those fruit trees take my eye. I believe I could consume your total production right now. Some of these times we will sample that fruit and also stroll over to Swope Park and look things over considerably after the war, apres la guerre, as the French say. Whenever you say anything to them about certain things they can't do now, they always say "after the war," and I think that little expression shows to what extremes they are willing to go in self sacrifice. I certainly have a very high opinion of the French. They are most highly respected by the American soldiers and they return the compliment.
To sit here where I am now, it seems scarcely possible that we are so near the front. This country here is a peaceful-looking farming country and, to look out over the quiet fields, it is hard to realize that the fighting is so close at hand. To walk across these fields is just like taking a stroll over Dad's farm on some quiet Sunday afternoon. Only there are several things that are conspicuously absent -- most of all the folks that were left behind. The ones that you love and are loved by is what goes to make life worthwhile.
Well, the sound of the big guns somewhere not so many miles away has begun again. Sometimes the sound comes from one side, then the other, until it is hard to tell which way one could go and not find someone shooting at someone else. My address is the same: Co. K, 137th Inf., Amer. E.F. I expect you know it by this time but some of my letters may drop by the wayside so it is best to be sure for I certainly want to get all the mail that is coming to me.
So, goodbye to the little girl who has given up two loved ones so cheerfully and sent them away with the smile that counts.
It is about time to write again and, as I feel rather in the humor and have the time, I will proceed without any further delay.
I am still in the same place as I told you in the last letter -- at the Brigade post office and the four of us are the only ones left in this town. I mean Americans, of course. We are having quite a time as we are our own cooks and are ruled by our own sweet wills. I can't say that it will be so pleasant, though, if we are here for a few days more than we are expecting.Anything to eat is awfully hard to get, especially if you are a soldier. The Army is supposed to feed us, you know, and everything outside the Army is for civilians and God knows they need what little they can get. The people here, two or three men, cleaned up the building used for storage of supplies in order to get what might be left behind. They thought they made a good bargain, too, and I suppose the Americans did leave more than the French ever do.
Oh yes, I meant to tell you what we had for breakfast and all this was cooked by the corporal in charge and what assistance I could give. We had fried eggs, we bought some from a Frenchwoman, steak, Army issue, we got a half-cooked chunk of beef from the Company we ate with, butter or oleo, strawberry jam, bread, and coffee. Bread was Army bread, white bread, too, and about one hundred percent better than the French people eat. That was not so bad, was it, for an Army meal. I only wish I could have one like it every day.
Our office is right next to the schoolhouse and we often talk with the schoolmaster, make signs or any other way to communicate. They have separate rooms for boys and girls over here and the children that get to school at this place are no larger than would compare with our attendants of the third or fourth grade. I don't know whether that is as far as they expect the children to go or not. The schoolroom looks a great deal like any schoolroom. The benches or seats are longer than ours -- they must seat two or three together. The room has an abundance of maps, pictures, and blackboards. They seem to study the geography of France but little of any other part of the world. We were much interested in the map of France as we wished to see where we had been in our journey and I must say I was very much surprised at how much we had really covered. I sure want to tell you all about it one of these days. Just take that big map we so often have studied and talk until we can't talk anymore and then just take you in my arms and kiss those sweet rosy lips again. Well, they talk of the girl that was left behind, for my part I can see you just as plain as I ever did and you look a thousand times more dear to me now and someday we will be the happiest boy and girl that there possibly can be anywhere in the world.
I haven't had a letter from you for over a week now but I can't get my mail as I should. It goes out to the Company and I can't get to the Company. This idea of working in a post office and then can't get your own mail is some idea. I am going to have you send my letters directed to the 69th Brigade, P.O. 35th Division, American Expeditionary Forces. Then if I change again soon, I will immediately let you know.
Well, it is getting close to dinnertime and I must help get dinner -- we are regular cooks now. Tell me all and everything that you possibly can write as I sure love to read your letters more than anything else, unless it is writing ones for you to read.
By the way, I read that story in the April American yesterday. It was the luckiest thing I ever got hold of one. You asked me to read "Pictures Burned in My Memory" I believe and I must say that, as far as I have gone in this business, that story certainly tells the straight stuff. I used to think that a lot of such stories were written by men with highly colored imaginations but I see now that they could tell even more and still be speaking the truth.
This must be "fini" or I will miss out on the eats and that can't be done with impunity in the Army. So, goodbye for a little while my own little sweetheart.
Well, I have had another letter from you since I wrote last. This one was dated June 30. It takes about that much time, it seems, for a letter to get to us. Also, I had one from Mother of about the same date. You two seem to write about the same dates every time and when I get a letter from one, I can almost always expect one from the other right soon.
We have moved again but not far this time. Moved on my favorite moving day, Sunday, or rather the day the Army has picked for me so many times. We have our office in an old barn of some sort. Quite a drop from sorting mail on a billiard table. The floor is so rickety here that we are in danger of going through every time we make any movements. Also, I may say the ventilating system is good -- extra good -- and the elevator going down is in perfect working order. I forgot to state our office was on the second floor. The lighting system is rather poor, though. I intend to see the landlord about it soon but I am afraid we would have a hard time "comprening" each other and I don't know the sign language for more light yet.
I just came from K Co. and everyone there seems to be in good health and the best of spirits. Brought a letter back for Shoemaker, to go out tomorrow. Shoey is working in the kitchen now and, from all appearances, he is getting lots to eat. I suppose they will be moving up to the trenches again as soon as they have been out the usual time.
I am going to send you an issue of the Stars and Stripes as soon as I have finished reading it. This is the A.E.F. paper and I think that you will be pleased to see what sort of a paper it is. This paper is not the regular newspapers we get but sort of a sheet that reflects the A.E.F. spirit. Our news sources are the Paris edition of the N.Y. Herald, Chicago Tribune, and the Daily Mail. The last is an English paper put out by the London Daily Mail.
Found where there is a ruin of an old castle and as soon as I find the time I am going to see what there is to see there. It is on a small hill that rises rather abruptly out of the valley and, from the looks of things from the ground, it is indeed a hard place to reach even now. Those old timers were fond of such sites I have been told. The fellow that picked this place, picked a good one, too.
Heard from Doug a few days before I got your last letter. He seems to be in the best of spirits and he hears from Joe I. occasionally, too. He says she is in Washington D.C. working for my able employer. Well, he has a lot of jobs open, it seems, from the way the revised draft classification looks. That one took a lot of boys that were not expecting anything just yet.
Oh! I must tell you I saw Becker a night or so ago. He showed me a letter he had from Robert and, as a return favor, I gave him the one I had from Doug. Don't misunderstand me and think that is our regular custom in the Army. That is the exception rather than the rule.
Well, it is getting late so I suppose it would be best for me to ring off for this time. So, goodnight once again, little girl. I have often wondered how long these goodnights will be said this way, but it is all for the best and one of these days... Well, it will be some day. So, goodnight to my own little sweetheart.
Source:National Library of New Zealande Collection:MS-Papers-0421: Inglis, Lindsay Merritt (Major General), 1894-1966 : Papers Author: Inglis, Lindsay Merritt (Major General) Strand Place Hotel, Strand, London, W.C.2.
Here goes for another small note to swell your budget at the post and to relate events.Thus far I have been as lazy as I can be. Yesterday and the day before I have been buzzing around during the day doing a fair amount of necessary shopping, and temp(?) now almost fined up for my immediate wants - except for what the tailor is making. Will cease that sort of uncertainty till just before I go back when I shall plunge in and buy any bulky stuff I want to take back. And talking of shopping -I can't make up my mind what to get for you. You have asked of course for something that would do for our home - but so far I haven't got any further ahead with the choosing.Then in one of your last letters you talked of some blouse materials you coveted, and that gave me inspiration- if I could only land somebody to choose them. I've another idea too. I shall try it on. Don't be curious, mum, and you won't be told no lies.
Yesterday afternoon I met(redacted)'s office of the Otago Regiment, and we had several games of five and a swim at the Royal Automobile Club. We also spent the evening together smoking and yarning. The day before I had dinner with Charley Foradick and later on we went round to the Waldorf Hotel to look up Geddis who was staying there only another day or two of leave to run. We found him just turning in, so dug him out of bunk and held a party in his room till a very later hour, when we left him in peace and went our several ways to beds. Geddis -- commonly known to us as "Little Willie" has a great attraction at a place called Livydon(?) not very far from London - a pretty girl who has absorbed most of his attention during his leaves. I half suspected to find him getting married this time. Forsdick and I offered our assistance and promised to make fitting speeches if he would arrange the ceremony; but he said the time was not yet ripe and offered to make it a double event with me.
Did I ever tell you, dear, that the word of our engagement was bruited around the N.Z.E.F in France sometime about March last?Well there is a paper of N.Z. news called the "New Zealander" printed by some benevolent person and issued free to us periodically, and there it was - copied of course from N.Z. papers. I have been collecting congratulations from then on.Dearest old chap, things are not pouring out of my throat onto the paper with the greatest of ease. Same old complaint.I feel that I am getting very stale and as dull as dishwater, and since Forsdick wants to take me to meet some of the friends he has made in England I shall be only too pleased to take the opportunity and try to combat the tendency. I wouldn't be surprised if that is what I need. A man deprived of feminine society grows rough edges after a time too - I'm sure I don't know what you'll find me like when I get back to you, old chap. You'd better collect some files and sandpaper for the process of smoothing me off again! Darling girl,keep your pecker up and smile. I think I miss you more on leave than at any other time.
It feels so much like burning daylight to be without you in a place like this. Quite different from being with the company where I wouldn't have you come for the world - much as I long for you. Do you see, old chap? Stop me, old lady - I"m getting to be a confirmed growler. I am fit and well, dear. Always very much love and longing for you. I've almost forgotten what it feels like to have you in my arms. But someday I'm going to remind both of us just exactly what it's like. Let's have a big wish together for the chance to come soon. In the meantime, sweetheart, there is always "this". All my love for your dear old self.
Mitchell Library, State Library of New South Wales George Washington Thomas Lambert letter, 7 August 1919 MLMSS 97/4/Item 2 [Transcribers note: The letter dated 7 August 1919 is written to his wife from Marseilles when George Lambert is on his way back to London from Egypt. The pages after the letter appear to be part of his diary written when he was at Moascar, Egypt towards the end of his time in that country.] [Page 1] Lambert Family Papers George Washington Thomas Lambert Papers re War Service, 1915-1919 Loose sheets from War Diary, 1919 (ML MSS.97/4 Item 1) [Page 2] Rest Camp Marseilles
After a very delightful & peaceful voyage across the Meditteranean the long & rugged arms of Marseilles Harbour enclose us safely; and with the French green trees & mild sunshine the blue water & cooling breezes one may perhaps for an hour forget. Forget now for an hour the awful country we have left, I trust for ever as far as Im concerned. My health state is good and improving. This break is annoying but we may resume our journey tomorrow. I will let you know by wire my progress towards London. The worst is over & I feel I shall arrive in good trim possibly 4 to 5 days after you receive this.
The mess room is demobilizing itself. Once a smart hut capable of dining about 30 officers in style. Brick walls, timber roof, Egyptian colours on the walls. Roof still there, walls demobilizing colours blending artistically having lost most of their suddeness on the Tussour shirts of the tired Heads. (Tired exhausted Heads Staff Officers.) Thousands of flies, that likeThethe Intelligent. Natives realize that the screens are faulty and hop in for Their cut while the going is good" (Australian for Seize your opportunity"). The comparison between parasites and intelligent Natives must not be laboured as this is even now a military letter and the Censor may even at this stage be on the spot, namely doing his duty under terrific odds. Outside this bit of shade (111 Fahrenheit) there is a blaze of almost colourless light and it takes, even for an experienced savage like myself, a few seconds to locate the differences between sand, tents and sky. In this blaze work still goes on, army work which is like every other kind of work, I meeself yesterday sat out in the blaze and did an accurate drawing of a cacolet (Cacolet two stretchers attached to camel for field ambulance work). [See image for drawing.] The work goes on but with that greatest of all physical efforts, the effort to do ones duty during the last hours of a long contract.
There have been backslidings and senseless noise and a scrap here and there but I am dealing now with myself and the men who appeal to me. The others can be dealt with by the A.P.M.inand possibly by some damned journalist who sings the song of the Bolschevick. I am writing because I have no duties for two or three hours, merely finishing my diary, packing my stuff or rather assisting my offsider to do it. I shall finish I hope a sketch of Ismalia this evening. But to our muttons Take my man. He is carefully rearranging & packing pictures, materials, clothes &c. renovating cases with nails he has to find patiently, thoroughly. A group of men the last of the A.P.Ms outfit ride past in the same old Australian manner taking their horses down to water. Perhaps tomorrow their horses will be handed in but today they will be watered, fed, groomed, and told with the harsh voice which conceals emotion that they are Bastards. Just alongside my hut Signals (Telegraph & Telephone Office) keeps up its monotonous Moascar, Moascar, Yes Sir or Hello! How she go" as the case requires. Sometimes the call rings or burrs and the worn out operator fails to hear it at once, his offsider or the man who is about to relieve him wakes up and giving a rub to his face with a towel to removegetsome of the sweat & sleepinessfrom his face
walks over to the receiver & takes the call after which he curses his mate who wakes up & continues Moascar"! Some swell writer or some swollen writer used to say, The Time (or Times, the day, or the period) was big with portent. Anticipation of great things to come is of course the sheet anchor of the hopeful child and disappointed adult. We that is Us" are in or near to the land where conception gained the word Divine after many million years of primitive literary effort, and the most of us are still willing to create & build in our work and all of us are capable of doing our humble part in the productive process of bringing more men & women into the world but to have to clean up, something my dear wife that you understand, is Hell and must be done; and I want to express not so much wonder at myself because I have many interests but at the war" generally and to say finally that this day is big. Incident every minute. A sentry standing to attention, merely as a matter of habit. This page was interrupted by the sound of a horse grunting and a man cursing and I ran into the blaze to see what is possibly the last buck jumper trying to get his man off just as if the war was beginning.
Charles Monaghan
Aye full well this is a week of anniversaries. In addition to the wonderful days of me homecoming it is also the 4th anniversary of the days a hundred thousand of us Digger soldiers first smelt war's gunpowder & received our baptism of fire. Last Monday the 19th was the anniversary of the Battle of Fromelles when the 5th Division got so horribly cut up: then tomorrow the 22nd , 4 years ago saw the big stunt of Pozieres launched. Shall I ever forget this night then, --- the eve of the battle. We were – the stretcher-bearers, mobilised in a village about 7 miles behind the line. Darkness fell, & each man was ordered to stand by to be ready to move off at a moments notice.
The preliminary bombardment had already started & we could hear the shattering roar of the big guns posted in the rear not far, from where we were. After 'standing to', till mid-night, the welcome order came to move forward – welcome only because it meant action, the awful waiting & period of inaction at such times is the thing that tries one's nerves. At daybreak we had reached the area immediately behind the front trenches & were at once in the thick of it. The next few hours I have only a nightmarish remembrance of- I was helping poor chaps with their awful wounds (we hadn't got used to them then) & getting them back into comparative safety then back again for others. About 10 o'clock I met Tony. We were in different units then & hadn't seen each other for weeks. Shall I ever forget that meeting. The rivulsion of fooling at seeing a dear familiar face so unexpectedly & under such conditions knocked me completely of my perch & I blubbered like a kid. I was ashamed but it did me the world of good, the nervous tension was broken, & ever after through all the stunt if the next 3 days, I was right as a trivet & felt not the strain at all. I wrote to the old cobber last night. Do you wonder how I love him?
Little did we think it possible that 4 years hence we'd be safely back in the homeland writing by a cosy fire with nothing more terrifying than the crackling sparks to remind us of former fireworks. Then the homecoming last year. Though it was sadly clouded, there was that bright single ray, when followed brought me to you. Hope burned within me from the time it was illuminated during the period of our correspondence, & the first sight of your dear face on that Monday afternoon, set the glow of ever, As long as life lasts & in the hereafter Yes, my beloved I thank God for all His goodness. 'His mercies endueth forever'. I loved your last letter, Em It breathed the pure tender purpose of a high ideal, & together we will strive to attain that lofty plane of true & perfect Love. When I revisit the past twelve months my heart overflows in a paen of happy rejoicing. It has given me you, the gentlest, sweetest truest & best lassie man can be blest with. May I ever be worthy of my great possession. I'll write no day by day news this time dear. Will reserve till our next. Good night my love, may sweet sleep give you all his rest.
Sidney Smith, undated, Longmoor Camp, England. Born: 20 October 1881, Regiment: Railway Operatives Division, Royal Engineers, Regiment number: 218849, Rank: Sapper, Returned to office: 19 May 1919, Retired: 20 October 1941
My address shows you I am well in now. Oh it is a different life and comes hard at first, four blankets on the floor and it is hard. I didnt get used to it until last night which was my first nights proper rest. The food is fair but served very rough and not enough after the drills you have to go through. The weather has of course been very bad and I am still in the same things as I left London last Monday. I look like a tramp and my collar, of the colour, something like the office grate. I was inoculated last Thursday but was not so bad but some of the fellows felt it. I expect I shall have a time with the next lot but hope I dont as they have not got much sympathy and of course there is no comfort. A lot of fellows (about four hundred and fifty) have been shifted (Saturday and today) to Bordon and we shall all probably go when we get fitted out as they are making a new camp there with three new companies. It cannot be worse than here which is very dreary and lonely and the nearest village (Liss) is three miles away where several of us went on Saturday and Sunday and had tea. That place is I may say, truly rural. I have had a military hair cut tonight and feel that I look like Bill Sykes. I am afraid none of our young ladies would care to be seen walking up number 1 (platform at Paddington Station) with me as I look at the moment. (censored.)
There is no leave now, only when you get your overseas leave which is generally after six weeks here and when you come back you are the put on the draft so it isnt long is it? George Jones and Isles will probably stay longer as they are to have false teeth but me, although as you know, I have got a very bad lot of teeth was passed and they are not touching mine. Army ways are funny and I have already found out a lot of which I trust I shall one day be able to tell you.
I forget to tell you we all got split up into different huts when we arrived and mine is about a mile away from the camp. It is very comfortable however much better accommodation than at the camp. Three other of our fellows were put in there with me and I found some others, also some very nice London & North Western Railway chaps, one of whom knew Mr Bryant and all the Fares office chaps. He was the head of the Season Ticket Office at Euston. I might say that they have been very good to me and assisted me more than some of our chaps, one or two of whom I am sorry to say have not done what they might to assist others and I (together with some of the others) have been surprised but of this more anon when we meet. Well I bid you all adieu for the present. I think of you all often and only wish I was back again but it has to be done and one can only hope the end will come soon. I hope poor old Syd Douce is getting on alright as we have not heard how he is. Now good luck to you all and every success and tell them all that could go to keep out of this life as long as they can. Goodnight.
I may say that four of our chaps who were lucky to get their outfit last week were moved to Bordon this afternoon: G. Holloway, Isles, Borrough, G.R.J. Jones.