I expect you are wondering why I have not written, but it is an awful effort to get all correspondence off, and be on active service at the same time. I can’t say that I am enjoying myself out here. It’s awfully hot, and we are eaten up by millions of flies. Life in the trenches is not a picnic either we have about four or five days out of them and eight or nine in them. When we are out supposed to be resting, we have to go on working parties, digging etc., then wherever we are, we are always under shell fire, so it’s not much rest after all. The last shell we had in camp, there was four killed and seventeen wounded. We have been under fire for three months now, and we should like a rest as the strain is tremendous on one’s nerves. I don’t think the troops in France get it quite as bad. Then again, the only comforts we have are sent from home, as the country here is quite barren, and we cannot buy anything in shops, I would give a quid for a pint of beer down the club. Our food consists of half a loaf of bread per day, bacon and tea for breakfast, Bully beef and biscuits for dinner and Jam for tea and cheese. Lime juice is served out about four times per week, that is a drop is put into a dixie of water and a cup full served out per man, and rum is served out twice a week (sometimes) that is about four table spoonful each. We live in a trench and it is a mercy it don’t rain otherwise we’d be washed away. The fighting just lately has been terrible. Our shells knock the enemy all ways and the sight in the trenches that we take is awful. We wear our respirators because of the awful smell of the dead. I’ll never get the sight out of my eyes, and it will be an everlasting nightmare. If I am spared to come home, I’ll be able to tell you all about it, but I cannot possibly write as words fail me. I can’t describe things. Wouldn’t it be nice to be at Walmer again and you come down and see me again, I did enjoy that time, and also seeing Billy Dawson and Richardson. There seem to be a lot of French troops out here, but there seems to be no relief for us. Nobody loves us now Churchill has gone, we are nobody’s pets. It’s the army first here, except when there is work to be done, and then the Naval Division have to do it. You know both my brothers have commissions in the 4th Bedfordshires and are at Dovercourt. My wife tells me she has sent me three boxes of stuff, I received one box, and I fear that one transport has been floundered [sunk] and another has been torpedoed, so I expect that is where my other two boxes are. It’s awfully disappointing because I do look forward so to a bit of chocolate and a few biscuits from home. We get cigarettes and baccy served out to us, but it is too hot to smoke much, so that I don’t miss that so much. I get a bath in a biscuit tin when I can, but when in the trenches I have to go all the time without a wash, so you can tell I am used to being dirty. How are they all down the club, and is Emmie still there, and is she better or not? Is Paice going to Looe this year? And where are you spending your holidays? Lord how I’d like a holiday, I am so tired and would give anything to get away from this continual banging. Please remember me to all fellows who are left in the office. Mr Miller and Goff & Hills and George Williams, and all the boys generally. I can’t write to all separately, also for details of my experiences you must wait until I get back, if ever I do, of which sometimes I despair. The papers tell you pretty full accounts, although they are rather anticipating events as to our advancing. Now I must close old chap, and thank you very much for all your kindness.
Many thanks for letters and fags both were very acceptable as you can imagine for it bucks one up to hear from old associates. I also had a letter from “Tinker” Taylor who told me Gwen has left the Great Western Railway Company. I will write to Ferdi [Ferdinand] and ask Frosty if you give me his address. I can imagine how lovely and empty the old room looks, fancy more flappers eh, quite a selection as you say. I will just give you an idea of our work here day by day. Reveille 6.00am, stables at 6.30-7.30, breakfast till 9. Then exercise ride one and lead two or three [horses] for one and a half hours, then groom them until 12.15, then we water and feed and go to dinner till 2.30 then sweep up … [Letter damaged] Bed [horses] down at 4pm then water and feed at 4.15 to 4.30 and hay up at 5pm, only we take it in turns to do that and we have stables like this. [Fatty has drawn a rough sketch of the stables which house the horses]. We have six and seven a side which leaves us four horses each. Of course, sandwiched between this is probably a visit to Avonmouth Docks to fetch horses or take ours to the station for we only keep them for a week at the time just to knock the mud off and feed them up so as they get their shore legs and look a bit shipshape again. We have about 10,000 a week come in of horses and mules and some of them are fair devils, so wild and timid.
Dear Bertie, Just a few lines to let you know how I am getting on. Am having the time of my life out here. No doubt you have seen the several letters I have written to the office during the past few months, so will not go into further details, except to say that I have been exceedingly fortunate in seeing so much of in a short time. I shall never forget my trip through the which has since been the scene of hard fighting, one consequence of which we were hurriedly moved from to in readiness to reinforce. You would scarcely credit the feeling of disappointment that exists among the few British regular regiments left in India, over not being ordered to to take their share in the war. The same feeling also exists in the Territorials… A dragoon then left a few weeks ago to replace heavy casualties among the regiment at the Gulf. As the hot weather commenced the latter part of April, and as many British troops as possible are always sent to the hills (being almost unbearable on the plains), we are fortunate enough to go, and had a three days’ march and climb to this place 8,000 feet up. Well I never in any wild stretch of imagination ever dreamed that I should be soldiering in the . , although 8,000 feet up is on the lower , and from my bungalow,which is situated on the edge of a steep precipice, I can see lovely views which words fail to describe, a perfect mixture of , Scotch and Alpine scenery. Although seemingly only a few miles off, the higher snow clad ranges in full view are from 100 to 150 miles away. I have about 1½ miles trek to our Sergeant’s mess, through beautiful scenery, lovely wild rose bushes climbing up giant pink trees, smothering them in roses, maiden hair fern and all kinds of pretty flowers in the woods. The climate is perfect, lovely English summer weather, with delightful mountain breezes. The heat in India has not distressed me in the least, not even on long arduous marches. I am feeling splendidly fit and well, and trust I shall continue so. We have no end of gaiety; all the married families of the regiment are living in our barracks under our charge, (as their regiments had to remain behind at , and are being bitten to death almost with mosquitoes.) So we have Cinderella dances about three times a week, whist drives, racquet and tennis parties and have most enjoyable times. I wish May and Eileen could take an aeroplane trip of a few hours and get to me, it would be ripping for them. I should be glad to hear that you had called to see them on your promised visit of months ago when I was home, they would be awfully glad to see you both. Do drop them a card old boy. Fancy it is 10 months ago today since I left to go to camp, what a lot has transpired since then. I was in the 8th Middlesex 12 months ago, and I see they have lost heavily in , funny I should have left them, and joined the 6th East Surrey and to pass them at (where they were first) on my way to .
Thanks very much for your letter and kind wishes. My wounds are getting on all right and they have discovered eleven in all. It is hard not to be able to get up, but I suppose a month will soon be slip by. My people came to see me yesterday and the day before. You ought to see my face. They cannot shave me because I have scraps of shell sticking in, and as I had not had a shave for about a week before I was wounded, I look a pretty picture. Well old chap, I am glad I am wounded to get out of that hell, and if you ever meet a chap that says he wants to go back call him a liar. If you could manage to come down at any time I should be delighted. I have not received any letter from Dalton but perhaps will get it later. That will be the time old chap when I look into the office on my way home. We’ll manage to get a drink then. Well I must close now and I expect you will have quite enough trouble to read what I have written already.
We were only out here a matter of a few hours before we went into the trenches; we were there for eight days and then came on to what is called a Rest Camp. I suppose it is called that to distinguish it from the trenches because the men are at work all day road and trench making and it comes under both rifle and artillery fire. We got here at 7 o’clock yesterday morning and were shelled at 9 o’clock. In the trenches it was fairly bad, they are so narrow and smelly and one is being potted at and shelled all the time. A turn of eight days was really quite long enough because it is strenuous work and even when you do turn in for a rest you have to be ready to turn out at once on an alarm. The country is really quite pretty and just like the hills and valleys of South Wales, but there are no brooks or rivers. It rains hard for a month each year usually about this time and then there is no more until the next rainy season. But although it is so gloriously sunny something is wrong with the place and it really isn’t as healthy as it looks. I think the flies have something to do with it as well as the heat and the still unburied dead bodies about. There are millions and millions of flies here and they are all over everything. Put a cup of tea down without a cover and it is immediately covered with dead ones, they are all round your mouth and directly you open it to speak or to eat in they pop. It is a game. We have all got nets of course, we should have been worried, no medicine by now if we hadn’t. We get plenty of bully beef and army biscuits, but bread and fresh meat is still a luxury and it is not possible to buy anything. It must have been a “No Man’s Land” because there are no houses or buildings of any kind to be seen and except the flies, the only living things are green canaries and lizards. We live in dugouts built up the reverse sides of the hills. They are just holes really, but all the same they can be made very comfortable with a bit of digging and a few waterproof sheets. They are not shell proof by any means and the one I slept in during my first night here was knocked in completely by a shell pitching right into it. Fortunately I was not at home at the time. We have another now and I must try and get a photo of it and let you see what it is like. I must send you one of our Mess dugout too. Everything here is named after the Regiment responsible for the making or taking. For instance the road we made from our trenches to this camp is called “New Bedford Rd” and the ridge we took and now occupy is called on the army maps, Bedford Ridge. I have just been filling in and colouring my map and find it is one of the most, if not the most, advanced line of the lot. Standing on that ridge it is possible to see what a lot of country we have taken and now hold, but there is nothing to get wildly excited about. Each position is strengthened as much as possible before another attempt is made to push on and the whole thing is just steady progress. Something might happen suddenly, I only hope it does. We have had some very big ships out here and they have been bombarding the forts heavily now for some few days, and there are cruisers, monitors etc. standing in the bay helping the land batteries to shell the trenches. You see a flash and then wait a long time before hearing the boom and the shriek of the shell passing over our heads, almost together, then look round quickly and see the burst of the shell in or over the trenches sometimes before hearing the explosion. The first we know of shells aimed at us is the bang of the explosion, and it is too late to get out of the way. Three officers were laid flat on their backs the other day without any hurt except to their dignity and farther on six men were buried without one being injured. It isn’t always like that though. There is quite good bathing here when we can find time to go. As the beach is in full view of the enemy, and comes under their shell fire, it would not appeal to the nervous. We never keep closer together than ten yards when we are undressing and swimming in hopes that the Turk will not consider one man worth the price of a shell. We have had some casualties through the men keeping too close together, but after washing out of a teacup for a week or more it is worth a bit of risk to get rid of some of the trench dust and smell and feel and look clean again. And really is the best bathing I’ve ever had. The water is quite warm and clear. All the hospital work is done on board a ship that stands in the bay. If the cases are serious or lengthy they are transferred to one of the hospital ships that calls daily and then go to either one of the bases or back to England. We land troops night or day in spite of the fact that they come under fire so it is possible for a man to be on his way back wounded, by the same ship that bought him from the base, without ever having landed. We had a grand voyage out. All the officers had either staterooms or 1st Class cabins and the food mostly was just the same as we should have had on an ordinary cruise to India or Australia, wherever it is that the Cruise Line calls. The usual cabin stewards and waiters were in attendance and it was difficult to remember that we were not exactly on a pleasure trip. We did enjoy those two weeks…
Thanks very much for your interesting letter… I wondered when I would hear from someone at the office. Also many thanks for your good wishes and congratulations on my marriage which I have conveyed to my wife. I am sure she will thank you all very much. Well to tell you a little about our experiences, we started off mysteriously one Sunday from Devonport on the captured German liner Derflinger, not a bad boat. The Warrant Officers had 2nd class quarters it was all right. Food was very fair. Submarine pickets* every night for one of the four companies, lights out… at seven or half past. Stole by Gibraltar at night in a fog expecting it to be torpedoed. We did reach Malta in due course after skirting north African coast, spent a day there, went ashore, had a few drinks which we needed being very hot and then on to Alexandria for three days, ashore every night, not a bad place, of course the lower men didn’t go, except for a route march on the Saturday. Our movements were kept very secret and we couldn’t find out what was to be done with our division, we then pushed to Port Said and had a day there. All of a sudden, we received orders to sail and soon found we were off to Gallipoli as we were passing through the Aegean sea, which is as you know full of pretty islands. Some hours before reaching Lemnos, the naval guns could be heard booming and we ran into the magnificent harbour there full of shipping and life. After a day there, we pushed on to Imbros 4½ miles from Sulva Bay during the afternoon they treated us to a naval shelling of Achi Baba, which is really the other side of the peninsula, but they shoot over the hills and mountains here. It was a fine sight and many of our chaps went sick at once. At night (Sunday 9/8/15) our good ship made for Anafarta Bay where a new landing had been effected two days before. 900 rounds, four days’ rations each, as much as a man is expected to carry and they dumped us over the side in lighters [a type of flat-bottomed barge] at 7am, a short journey through the boom defences and we were ashore waiting for something to turn up. Bivouacked on the beach and were put on unloading lighters till about 10 when the Turks spotted us and started shelling, two men killed and four wounded to start with and we lost a few more, wounded during the day although naturally we took what cover we could. I had one or two near me whilst getting a timber out of the hold of a lighter but managed to dodge them all right. At night my company received orders to take picks and shovels up into the firing line which was about five miles away half way up Chocolate Hill… Well Nic the 10th were soon in the thick of it as we advanced across the salt lake in extended order. Rifle fire now we had to dodge and many of our chaps got hit rather seriously I have since found out. I was glad of a rest at the foot of the hill but had to push on again and deliver the goods, after feeling about in the dark for some time our guide led us in single file up behind the firing line, where we laid down, bullets were whistling round but we managed to escape them… The enemy were yelling for all they were worth and I was glad when our captain ordered us down again to the beach. This took us some hours and when we reached the place, the other three had gone up to reinforce the firing line, so up we went again the next day about 6pm, nearly all things are done here in the dark as we are in view all the time. We again advanced across the take from Lala Baba, my heels were nearly raw through new boots and I eventually had to rest for a fortnight later on. Well on our right was a hill burning furiously with many a chap caught in the flames and so perishing (not our regiment). We finished on rather a feathered bed and did not find the other Company ‘til next day, it was a night, we were all parched with the heat, and no water. Dried up and had to dig ourselves in, it’s no light job this hiding being… like an ostrich, ‘til you make a hole large enough to get into and make yourself head cover.
Dear Mr Hunt Many thanks for your long and interesting letter which I was very pleased to receive. I am sorry I have been unable to answer it before but I have been constantly moving about from one place to another lately, and have had no opportunity of writing letters. Well I am very pleased to say I am feeling very fit and well, and quite enjoying the life. When writing to you last, I was attached to the 4th Division and was stationed at a small village where we were living in tents. We were stationed there about six weeks. Just over a week ago I was transferred to another place about eighty miles from the other one. I travelled by motor lorry with the Supply column and it took us all day from 7.30am till about 9 o’clock in the evening to do the journey. It was a glorious trip, the scenery being very fine. Almost as good as our office outing, only not quite such comfortable travelling. We put up for the night in a small village, sleeping in the lorry with some empty petrol cans for a bed. Next morning I was taken to the railhead where I was stationed until yesterday being only in that place just a week. While there we were all still sleeping in tents, but I was fortunate enough to have my meals with the Post Office Staff so have had a rest from being my own cook. Yesterday afternoon, just as I was going for my tea, I was sent for and told to pack up my things and catch a train to another railhead as I had to take charge as the A.M.F.O* for three Divisions there. As there is usually a man attached to each division, this was rather a large order. I only had about twenty miles or so to go, but it took from 5 o’clock till after 9pm to get there. These French trains are very rapid. I am now attached to the 51st (Highland) Division, the same division as , a number of his lot were here today, but he was not with them. We shall probably only be here for a few days and will then move to another village further on. I was very surprised to hear of Mr ’s death. I also heard that Mr is also dead. We are having glorious weather here at present and very hot at times. Glad to hear you are having a soft time on the old section. I was very pleased to hear about the collection of letters and photos from the troops that you are sending round the office and will certainly send you a photo later on. I have has some taken but have not received them yet. Have you heard from Ferdie or Gray at all? We all had our photos taken at before we came out here a group of six. Unfortunately, I only had a few copies and they have all been sent away. Ferdie and Gray are still at the Base, I believe, but is at one of the railheads somewhere. Well I don’t think I can tell you any more news at present. Will write again later and send photo. Kindest regards to all.
I have now been out in France a fortnight. I am getting on quite well in the army. Food is also good and plentiful. Of course, I find the life much rougher from that which I have been used to, but it is a fine experience all the same. We were at Longmoor camp for a week where we were equipped and put through elementary drills. We slept in a big hut there and had a sack of straw and three blankets each. The huts, of which ours was one, were called Apple Pie and they are about a mile from the camp, so we had to be up about six every morning in order to march down for parade at the camp. The parade was at 7.15am. Some mornings we had an hour’s drill before breakfast. It was about 11pm I should think, when we arrived at Longmoor on 31st March, and consequently we went straight to our hut. No light was provided so we had to fish about for our beds in the dark. Fortunately it was moonlight, and after some time a lantern was brought. We were only too glad when getting up time came the next morning. It was before six. We were marched down to the camp and were inspected by the Sergeant Major and after waiting some time went into breakfast. Roast sausage was the chief item on the menu but to our amazement no knives and forks were supplied for us...Well, the only thing was to convey the sausages to our mouths with fingers. The nearest thing to a knife and fork that some had was a pair of nail scissors so these were used. Personally I did not know whether to feel shocked or to laugh at the situation; it ended in the latter. We Audit fellows got to one table and we had to have a good laugh before we could eat much. It was a hopeless situation to be in. Don’t let this discourage anyone from coming but I warn him to bring a knife and fork with him. After the first day we were issued with kits and we treasure our knives and forks now. We came across on the mail boat Hantonia from Southampton to Havre. ... We had to sleep in huts there on the docks but the sleeping accommodation was better. We Audit fellows were able to keep together till last Saturday night, when Pond and I were sent off to different railheads. He is at 3rd Corps Railhead. We had to travel in horseboxes and during night time. We travelled in this manner Saturday, Sunday and Monday nights. French shunting is severe and we were shaken up. Saturday and Sunday we were about 30 in the trucks, Monday 17. We were fortunate enough to get out into every town at which we stopped during the day. On Tuesday night another young fellow and I were stranded at a station somewhere in France, and we were instructed by the military authorities to sleep in the goods shed. We had to sleep on the deck of the shed and shunting was going on during the night. This was about the limit, I thought. I arrived finally at my destination about midday last Wednesday. Now I live in a truck at a small French station. There are two other Sappers and a Lieutenant here. We deal chiefly with gifts and comforts sent to the troops... We are out in the country. I think this railhead is about seven miles from the firing line. Can hear the guns and see the star shells at night. I must ask you kindly to excuse me for writing in pencil because I have no pen and ink here. Would you mind letting this letter be treated as to the whole of the statistical department, please sir.
Dear Burgie, Was very glad indeed to get your letters although, your news in regard to Joe [Chamberlain] comes as a shock. It was the first I had heard of him since he arrived in in spite of the fact his regiment being quite close. Am afraid the 9th and few days following were rotten days for a good many battalions, our lot as much as any. We have been “in” since the 8th and have had a fairly trying time we were reinforced during this week, not before time as we were down to our last two hundred. Can’t tell how sorry I am to hear about Joe as you say he was “one of the best”. I hope you chaps have not been annoyed at my not answering your very welcome letters. I don’t pride myself much on writing good yarns though and opportunities are also hard to find. As you know I had a bit of a knock at but have quite got over that and am now in the best of health and spirits. I came across Len Phillips and Peter Hawes in different drafts of the while down at both of them have now had some experience on the job I expect. Thank Mr Drewe very much for making inquiries, tell him I occasionally wish heartily to be on the old job again the quiet life will do for me after this. No I did not get Dick’s magazine or letter expect it went astray while I was in hospital. Thank him very much for sending them will you. Had a game of football about two weeks ago with R.G.A.* Battery, the pitch being a serious drawback. I think it was a cabbage patch. Still we managed to get a good game in and most important of all, won. The weather here has on the whole been very good just lately only getting an occasional day’s rain. Last night we had a sharp thunderstorm, a new experience it had at least the effect of shutting all the other disturbances of our rest up so we did not grouse. Much obliged for all the information re the other fellows. Am glad most of them are getting on so well. Peacock seems to have come out top dog. The job alone from other examples seems to be a paying one, leaving out the holiday in . Well must close my epistle. Please remember me to Dick, Mr Horsley, Ransley and Drewe, Fox. Hoping both they, and yourself are, best of health and spirits [Line censored].
Dear Mr Wheeler Just a few lines to let you know of my whereabouts. This is our fifth Sunday at sea. We left on Thursday October 29th shortly before midnight and our convoy of ten huge liners each with about 1700 to 2000 territorial troops on board assembled in the early next morning. We were escorted by British warships as far as our first port of call- Malta the French warships to Port Said. After staying one night there we proceeded through the . We lay off the Port of six days waiting for another escort then on through the to where we stayed four days waiting for our Japanese escort. When it arrived it brought with it an immense convoy of over 80 huge liners transports filled with and Indian troops. This in addition to a convoy of thirty five vessels that came into whilst we lay there. So it may truly be sung that “Britannia rules the waves.” It has been a most delightful and interesting voyage and the weather is now so hot that hundreds of troops are compelled to sleep on deck nightly as the heat is much too great below. We landed two cases of fever at . Fortunately it does not appear to have spread any further so far. We expect to reach on Wednesday next, December 2nd then three or four days’ train journey to , some distance north of . Shall be very glad to get there, as five weeks on board a crowded troop ship with very little opportunity for exercise is getting rather irksome, especially, when we get no ‘Daily Paper’, only a little wireless war news, occasionally. I am glad to say that I am wonderfully fit and well. Our food has been wholesome and plentiful. Trusting you are well, with my best wishes for as Happy a Christmas as is possible under prevailing war conditions, and a Prosperous New Year in due course. Also please convey same to Messrs Wood, Welsh, Davis and others. Hoping to see you again on the termination of our successful conclusion of the war. Believe me, yours faithfully,