My dearest F——
Here we are in our reserve billets, and not sorry either. The enemy threw a shell in beside us this morning as I was getting up, to show that he had not forgotten us! It must have come 5 miles at least. He is a humorist, too, of a grim sort, for 3 days ago he bombarded the little town (French) of Estaires with French shells. I suppose some gun he had captured from them. Anyhow, his ammunition is certainly, as a rule, not as good as the stuff he was using. Have a headache this morning. I often get one after 3 days in trenches. There was a great hue and cry after a German spy yesterday. Telephones going all over the place. I was wickedly sceptical about him from the first, and ultimately triumphantly proved him to be an officer of the —— Regiment who had been detached on some duty. The unfortunate gentleman had an impediment in his speech, and this was noted down as proving him to be a German, of course! Six divisions of K.’s new army are expected to cross over to France this month. I hear that the Canadians have also arrived, and that they are full of dash. Thanks for collars, duly received. They will last me a long time. Major Baker brought some mincepies back with him. Mr. Argles wonders if I have time to see any of the sports out here! No one has the least idea of how busy one is out of the trenches getting rifles right and men cleaned to keep them from dirt whilst in the trenches, when it is impossible to do anything, for you cannot lift your head there for fear of having it punctured before you pull it down again…. You ask if I have seen any of my relatives who are at the front. No. I think they are all farther back, and if they should come up where I am they would have an awful time of it…. I hear the whirr of an aeroplane. I wonder if it is ours or a German bomb dropper; you never know which it may be! So glad to hear you are feeling better.
Yours….
G——
I must say that I think quite the worst news we have received so far in this war is the sinking of those three ships in the Irish Sea by the German submarines. The British Navy must just get to work and build a submarine destroyer which will catch and destroy these nuisances. As a matter of fact, I believe a great many more German submarines have been sunk than the British public know of, because it is not announced unless the Admiralty is absolutely certain. For instance, the other day an old naval carpenter who works on the Bayfordbury Estate in Hertfordshire, and who returned to his naval duties when the war broke out, told Major Baker that whilst dragging for mines in the German Ocean they had come against two submarines lying on the bottom of the sea, and, having nothing else to do, they dropped a charge on them and blew them up. That may be correct or not. I have certainly heard that this happened in one case, officially. A long letter from my sister Meta arrived by the last post yesterday; still moving into Oakfield after building up the old house again since the fire. I went for a ride yesterday with Major B., looking up some roads in case of a move. The Germans tried to pour shrapnel on the road on the way back, but fortunately missed us by going short. There was a large party of another division on it, and I suppose they had got wind of this. A curious thing to notice is as follows: When a shell starts out on its journey it travels more quickly than the sound. Sound moves at the rate of about a mile in 5 seconds. After a little while the shell begins to go more slowly, and then the sound overtakes it and travels ahead. We were just where we could see the shell burst with a flash and a white puff of smoke, and could still hear the whirr of the shell rushing towards us until it ended with a loud bang, though we had in reality seen it burst a second or so before. We went to a rather fine church destroyed by fire. I asked what had happened, and was told that the Germans had been there, and when they were forced to retreat they put a certain number of their dead inside the church with a lot of straw, then some of the villagers, and finally made one of the women set fire to the straw by holding a revolver to her head and threatening to shoot her. The man said that the village priest had told him this shocking story. I asked how the Germans had behaved otherwise, and he said, “Very well in one sense.” They had been billeted on the people, who were obliged to feed them; but, of course, it is war. When, however, they had to retire, they refused to pay for anything, and tried, as the inhabitants explained, to incite them with a view of getting an excuse to burn their houses and then shoot them. As the village people kept their heads, they threw down half a mark and left. I thought, on the whole, they were well rid of their visitors! You asked if I required any more soap or paper. At present, nothing, thanks; Major B—— has just given me a new writing block. A cake and mincepies are, however, always most welcome. How greedy one does become after a time! Such a horrid blustery day, and heavy rain coming down this morning. We had Holy Communion at 8 a.m. in a ruined nunnery with our Cowley Father officiating. Only 3 turned up from the whole Battalion. Our General has had to go away this morning into hospital with fever. Mr. Laing, whom your cousin M—— D—— asked about, is now in bed with the same sort of complaint….
We are off to the trenches this evening, worse luck! but we can’t complain, for we have had a most comfortable 3 days considering everything; actually sleeping until 8 o’clock in the morning, washing ourselves and clothes, and generally doing ourselves well by buying eggs, butter, and wine of sorts. White wine appears to be the most plentiful in this locality—why, I cannot tell. It is a sort of Grave, and not at all bad as things go. Major B—— and I rode yesterday, despite the rain, and on the way we went to a place I have rigged up where my pioneer sergeant is making crosses for those who have been killed. Very nice wooden ones, which have little plates on them, also of wood, with name and so forth painted in black, standing about 2 ft. 6 in. high. The men admire them very much indeed, and I fancy that they like me to take an interest. It raises their self-respect. I found that, although some have already been put up, 16 crosses were standing there waiting for white and black paint, as we had run short of it, and these sort of things are difficult to get. The sugar I bought here for the men is 7d. a lb., and it is greatly appreciated by them. Of course, it is not allowed to be imported from England during the war, otherwise we might get it cheaper. I am glad you had a nice day for your first outing; as you say, “Flu” is very nasty. I wonder if I shall be able to run over again in March and see you. The Colonel of our gunners has just dashed in to ask me to luncheon before I go to the trenches. He says that he wants cheering up. I suppose he thinks me an optimist! What time would suit you best if I could get a week at the end of February or beginning of March? I know you said something about running across to Ireland again, and I do not wish to interfere with that. I do not know whether I shall be able to get it, but it is an idea. I see the Kaiser is in Berlin—the newspaper says “with his throat.” I believe he is really there seeing if he can raise another loan, which will tax his ingenuity. He will announce in the papers that he has succeeded all right; but I think it will only be paid up in his own banknotes, which, of course, unless he has gold to redeem them, are worthless….
We returned here last night. Before leaving the billets I was going round putting things right, when suddenly German shrapnel began bursting over my head. I hustled my men under cover, and no one was hurt, though a shrapnel broke the window in the house where we were and came through it. We started off cheerfully enough, and arrived at our trenches safely by 7 p.m. There was heavy firing on our right, and at about 9 o’clock the German guns opened, putting shell all round us, including one in the house next to us about 20 yds. away. Of course it is only ruined walls, but it made a tremendous crack. The house is rather a nice one of fresh red brick with bright red tiles on the roof, and it also has blue and white glazed tiles over the doors and windows. We then made ourselves horribly obnoxious with our machine guns, and opened by arrangement. You never heard such a noise. As a matter of fact, we knew that they were changing regiments at that hour, and we tried to catch them with our artillery. Whether we succeeded I cannot tell. I have been up and about since between 2 and 3 a.m., so one earns one’s bread out here! The machine guns were particularly busy, but there was hardly a shot fired at me in all my rounds! This morning two German aeroplanes arrived. One of ours had been playing about, but it fled when the enemy appeared. We fired on them immediately, and they went off. Then ours came round again, and the Germans reappeared, but it did not run away so fast, and we again helped it. Now two of ours are sailing up and down, shot at by German infantry, their own aeroplanes having vanished. From two different German sources we learn that they expect the war to be over in April, as they have told the troops that Russia is beaten. Some have admitted that they hardly expect their troops will fight after April; but from my knowledge of Germans I do not think they will be given the option; they will be shot by the authorities if they do not fight. We have also had the cheerful news that, regiment for regiment, their casualties are about four times our number. This I believe to be correct. I had a pleasant little lunch with the Colonel of the Gunners, and a whisky and soda, which I have not tasted before in France so far….
Not up quite so early this morning, as my acting General said he was coming round, and I had to meet him at a certain point, so I did not rise much before four a.m. We went about until 7 o’clock, doing various things, fortunately with very little shooting. There was a heavy bombardment last night from our guns at 10 o’clock, but I do not think it did the enemy a great deal of harm, and we fired at him again with big guns in the morning. He is trying to approach us by a sap, and we are trying to blow him out of it. Not that we object to his coming close, but because he wants to enter that particular place; so it is right that he should at once be sternly checked. I received two of your letters last night, dated the 1st and the 2nd. I am sorry about the death of your cousin, Mrs. Hilton; but her heart had undoubtedly been weak for sometime. C—— S—— must have been grieved that he did not arrive in time to see her again. Tell him I am in sympathy with him over his loss. Thanks for sending me a cake. The eggs do not really do us much good now, as we have found out a way of getting them. I had a kind letter from my Mother last night promising me two more pairs of socks and some more chocolate. I wish I could put on three pairs of socks here, as my feet are always cold. The ruins of the French houses have their floors covered with tiles, as I think I told you before, and they are cold to the feet. Unfortunately feet swell, and boots even two sizes too large appear to shrink, so finally one thick pair of socks is possible only. I heard from the Saddlers’ Coy. yesterday that they propose to send me the coffee and milk, and that my letter had been read to the full Court and had been found very interesting. I heard also from General Inglefield; he says that he would like me to have a Brigade before long.
The Generals gave out yesterday that we were to be attacked last night, the reason being that the Germans were seen to be clearing the wire away from their trenches, presumably with this plan in view. We decided to discourage any such attempts by opening the affair ourselves. We therefore fired on them with all sorts of things, including an iron drain pipe which throws a ring of gun cotton. This is simply made out of an old jam tin, whilst the fuse is lit before firing the charge in the drain-pipe. The latter charge of powder is then driven out of the jam tin. If correctly judged, it hurtles through the air and falls into the German trenches, and blows people there to pieces. How close the fire is here is shown by one of my companies having had two periscopes hit. Periscopes are four inches wide or less, and probably only 5 inches shows above the parapet, so you can see the German marksman at 100 yds. anyhow is not to be despised. This morning I was up before four o’clock, and round my men. On my way back a German put a bullet between the Corporal and myself. Of course lots of others were flying about, but this was the nearest. We go into support to-night; and the house we are going to occupy had a shell through the front door two days ago. It was fired at from the side at some great distance, came through the door, and fell on its back without exploding just short of a cupboard. This must have come from a strange battery, as the ordinary shells go round it all and every day, bursting galore, so I suppose this was one up the line fired at a sharp angle to try and take us in flank, as it were. I am rather sleepy, as there was a fire fight at 12 p.m. last night, for which I was awake. I received a letter from Miss Ruby McCann of Belfast yesterday, sending tobacco and her love to the men. The latter, she stated, was only to the “good-looking ones.” I also had a letter from your Mother. She told me that you had not gone to the concert owing to A—— H——’s death that very day. Still, of course, you took tickets for it. I also received a note from the Saddlers’ Co. saying that they were sending four cans of milk and coffee to me to start with, and more would follow when they heard how the men liked it. The cans have four dozen tins in each. Very kind indeed of them. Well, I think that is all my news, excepting that I have got a headache, and have had one for the last two days, which is not surprising, since I have been up and about at such unearthly hours, and have not had any chance of sleeping properly in between whiles. I am always on the telephone to one person or the other….
I hear that Col. Napier has got a Brigade, and I must write to congratulate him. You are kind in offering to send us more cakes and mincepies. What we really miss according to our usual mode of life is the absence of the “sweet” course at luncheon or dinner. Perfectly ridiculous! Just the same as washing, but one misses it somehow, that is all, even when one is eating covered with mud. I received your letter of February 3rd last night; usually these letters only take 2 days to come. Thanks for sending Bryant and May’s matches. I hope they will arrive shortly via Southampton. Tell Blanche I am sorry for her troubles with her teeth: I am trying to see a dentist myself. I hear there is one at a little distance away, and I propose to ride over to see him to-morrow, if possible. We go across to a canal, and follow that for 8 miles, and then he, the dentist, is to be found somewhere in an ambulance. A very good thing to be able to get away from under shell fire even for a short time. We had rather a doing yesterday, for the Germans shelled us heavily, and finally concentrated on two houses. Curiously enough, I had pointed out to the authorities how very visible some works the Engineers had constructed were to the enemy from their aircraft, and I stated that the woodwork ought to be painted earth colour, and sent out a party of men in the meantime to cover the wood with mud. Unfortunately, however, the mud dried, leaving the wood still rather light, and the aircraft came along all right, as I suspected, saw it, and signalled to their gunners where to fire. By some good luck, the 2 houses alongside, though they were full of my men, had also shelters erected to protect them from shell fire. These they ran into, and so escaped; only Major W—— was hit on the head by a splinter, which did not hurt him, as his skull is fairly resisting! The few remaining rafters were blown off the houses and the walls fell down. It was most unpleasant to stand by helplessly and watch it; I could not turn on our gunners, for a very heavy bombardment was going on to our right at the usual place which I have mentioned to you before. The shells we captured were French, and exploded well. Coming out of the trenches, the company that came my way had one corporal killed and one wounded. The poor man was shot dead just before leaving the trenches. I quickened our pace up, I can tell you, when we suddenly found ourselves walking along in the line of a hot fire fight in front of us; though it was a mile and a half away in the darkness, one bullet struck beside me, and another went over my head. The shell which struck this house was evidently nearly spent, and the broken door is just like the back entrance of your aunt’s house opposite Carlton church. It went clean through this; then turned to the right through a thick wall and landed in a cupboard on a shelf, smashing the doors, but not exploding….
Very heavy rain last night, and plenty of mud this morning after five o’clock, when we stood to arms. I am going to Merville, as I said, this afternoon to get my teeth looked to. I took Major B. for a longish walk yesterday. He hates walking, but brightened up considerably as we went along, and we talked of our various troubles. We have certain worries with some of our men who have not been brought up in the strict discipline really required for a continental war. Cheering news has come to us from Russia. A General was sent by the Czar to decorate Sir John French and the Colonel of the Scots Greys, of which the Czar is Col. in chief. He is reported to have said: “Do not worry; we have not yet mobilized in Russia, but we shall do so in the beginning of April, and we do not ask you to do more than wait here holding the enemy; then we propose simply to march on Berlin with overwhelming numbers.” So be it, as long as we get these thieves settled soon. That heavy fighting I told you about La Bassée way, going on two days ago, was our storming a German trench; I hear that we killed a lot of Germans and captured 30. Of course we must have lost heavily ourselves too. Would you send a copy of my History, of which you have already sent two away, to Col. Anderson, Headquarters, VIII Division, B.E.F. His father was in the regiment, and he is interested in it. Also to my Mother please send a copy with my love. By the way, all parcels to France are expensive, but if the postage by chance is not fully paid it does not matter, as no extra charge is made at this end. Now I must stop, as I am as busy as possible to-day trying to get things done, and everyone wants to see me at once. Such a lovely sun!…
Well, I went yesterday afternoon and had two teeth filled, one under the gum, which is still rather painful; but the amusing point is that on my way there at some cross roads I was held up for a quarter of an hour by the Germans shelling the place. I hid in a building, and when they got off the line of the road I resumed my ride on to my dentist. Just at this moment they are shelling our usual front line billets vigorously. I mean the ruined houses which we hide behind. Clearly they must have got more ammunition. Many thanks for cake, chocolate, tins of coffee and cocoa, and boiled eggs, which all arrived safely. As a matter of fact, the cake is most useful, whilst we still have a fair amount of chocolate, and the eggs please do not send again, for we have now a regular system of supplying eggs to ourselves at 3-½ francs a dozen, which keeps us going. I am glad the children like reading and receiving my letters. Sometimes I am rather hustled for time, as I have often a great deal to do, and many of my officers have not been on active service before. First, you have to think out the orders, and then issue them in writing, and then, still more important, see that they are carried out. Sorry to hear of Miss Dunlop’s death; she has gone to a better world, anyhow. The one she has left is in a troublous condition. Please God, it soon rights itself! No soup squares required, please. I fancy that if I get my leave at all it will be before April, but of course I cannot choose the time or anything like that. In fact, they may refuse to allow me to have a second leave. Had a letter from Bertha Farmar; she is full of news, and seems very happy. I do not know anything about Colonels only going into the trenches at night. I have been in during the day often; but in the trenches that we now occupy it is carrying your life in your hand to do so—that is, for a tall man; once in, it is just a question of bending down. It is strange to hear of people playing football out here—we ourselves are under fire every minute. One of our men was hit yesterday on the head by a German bullet four hundred yards farther down the street from where I live, whilst he was having his hair cut by the company barber. We had fondly imagined that we were out of the way of bullets!
Yours….
We go into our trenches again to-night, worse luck!
Here we are back in the trenches, and a shell has just burst quite close to us. A Yeomanry major has been lunching with me. I put him up in the “Residency” at Aden on his way home, and he asked to come down into our trenches, though he belongs to another division, as he wanted the experience. His name is Backhouse, and his brother was Flag Lieutenant to Admiral Jellicoe at the beginning of the war. We arrived here very peacefully last night, cheered by news of the Russian successes, and then I went my rounds from 3 o’clock till 7.30 in the morning. I pointed out to some of my men that they were standing in a dangerous place, but they said it was all right, and I heard an hour after that three of them had been struck by one bullet. Later the General came along to see about things, and I had to go round with him. A shrapnel from our guns burst short and just missed a man I was speaking to…. However, thank Heaven! we did not have any fired at us. A curious thing happened the night before last. One of the British patrols in my line saw a German at the wire entanglements in the darkness, and fired. The German fell, calling out: “Don’t shoot, soldier.” When they were able to get up to him they found that he had laid his rifle and equipment down before he was seen, and either wanted to surrender or, as he had some wire cutters with him, was trying to cut the entanglement. Anyhow, poor fellow! he had had the large artery of his leg cut, and was just at the point of death. We buried him at the back of the ruin. Did you ever think how between the devil and the deep sea the German soldier is? If he runs away, he is shot; if he advances, he is generally shot; and if he tries to desert, as in this case, he is shot too. A hard fate….
Getting up at 3 a.m. is very trying, as it makes the day so long. I curl up in my blankets at 9 p.m., and hope for the best, but very often I am pulled out again. Last night, for instance, we had various parties down here working during the night. About 8 o’clock I went to look at the poor German’s grave, and, coming away from it, I was nearly hit by a bullet from some sniper who was evidently watching me. I am just waiting to go to one of our own men’s funeral. He was shot yesterday, poor boy! and I was able to get his body out, so I am trying to give all such, decent burial with a clergyman some distance back from the trenches. I forgot to tell you when mentioning that shrapnel shell yesterday that the man I was talking to was Sergeant Driscoll, whom you will remember in the regiment; and that a sergeant of the Lincolns was killed in my lines exactly the same way the day before. I enclose Mr. Aitchison’s letter. I did not realize that it was his only son. I heard from Mrs. Baker yesterday in reply to a letter of mine. She compliments you on your letters, saying you are quite a soldier’s wife…. I calculate that I might, but only might, get away about February 28th for a week if nothing turns up in the interval; but, again, I was told that all leave was stopped in the 7th Division, so I am doubtful what will happen. Perhaps the war will end soon. Who knows?…
Your letter not come yet, but posts do not always fit. We had a couple of amusements yesterday. One was the opening of fire from quite a new direction by the Germans. Fortunately, not very heavy, though. The other thing was that our house caught fire last night about 5.30. Major B. and the sergeant-major made the discovery. It originated with the guard, who, of course, were the last to find it out! Major B. and the Sgt. Major were both invaluable, but my first business was to see that the sentry was alert, so that we could carry on our operations without being surprised by our opponents. Next I got a ladder from a ruin, put a man up it with a hose, and said: “There are great gaping holes in the tiles everywhere; pull off the remaining ones, and then we can pour water all over the fire.” There were very few, however, left to pull off, so the work was done and the fire put out in a few minutes. Lucky for us it was just before dark and the light just right, otherwise we should have been shelled to pieces. We buried that poor fellow I spoke about yesterday afternoon with a parson, keeping my eyes lifted for rifle bullets all the while. I forgot to tell you I stopped an N.C.O. as I was coming down to the trenches 3 nights ago to speak to one of our men; immediately afterwards he was hit in the leg by a bullet. As it was long range, the bullet remained in his calf, and he went off in an ambulance to have it dug out. One of my poor men died also this morning; it was astonishing that he was alive at all, for yesterday a bullet hit him in the head and blew the back of his head off, and yet he remained alive and quite conscious without pain till 2 a.m. I have just had a visit from an artillery officer; he and I have concerted a plan of operations together. As his shells are very heavy, things ought to be bad for the Germans. How I hate this business of killing people who never wanted the war, and would go home if it were possible! Now, if I could have an innings at those who actually made the war and murdered the women and children, I would have quite a different tale to tell, but these poor creatures are set in a groove and are helpless to escape out of it.
We got away quietly from our trenches on the night of the 12th, I am thankful to say. It was so dark that I could not see the man in front of me, though I could touch him with my hand. I “came,” as the Irish say, a great sprawl over a bridge across a ditch, the chief difficulty being to find my uniform cap in the darkness and mud, as, of course, one did not wish to give away where we were by even a flash from one’s electric torch. However, here we are in billets once again, with the rain pouring down and guns roaring now all round us. I cannot quite make out whether any shells from the enemy are falling or not. Since we came they have blown down a small building on the other side of the road from where I am sitting, and sent a shell into the medical inspection room. This gives some idea of how powerful even one of their medium-sized shells is, for it went through five thick brick walls before it exploded. I hope I may get leave again presently, but there appears to be some trouble about a second lot. I shall, however, put a brave face on and demand it in the ordinary course, and see what I can do. I am told that Colonels who have finished their command are kept on commanding their regiments out here during the war, as they are badly needed just at present, so I do not know that I shall get a Brigade when my time is up, as it will be ere long. Of course, everything is at sixes and sevens. I hope you have already sent Col. Anderson the copy of my History which he asked for. I am glad that Colonel Farmar has done so well with Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien, as he is such a good fellow, and in all probability he will have a good career before him. I must be off.
A wet day yesterday, and a wild night; rain stopped now, and turning very cold. Pleasant for the trenches, but I anticipate cold weather up to the middle of April at least, and very bitter weather in March. The Germans seized the opportunity to shell us and knock down the house next to mine, laying out two of my men and a sergeant of the Berkshires. Fortunately none of them were killed. They smashed the roof up, so we went round to get safer billets for the men. The house we took was inhabited by a very rich old man, who said he kept a house to live in and a shop to work in, not to put soldiers in! Pleasant loyal fellow! We simply said that he would have 125 soldiers there within half an hour. However, we asked the men, and they said they preferred to stay where they were. I expect, as much as anything, they were too tired to move. Well, I rode out with Major Baker to the Northamptonshire Yeomanry. They were commanded by a Col. Wickham, of the Scots Guards, an old gentleman who joined the Guards in 1874. They told me the sad news that when they applied for their second leave, they were refused, so I am afraid it looks as if none of us will get it, which is more than a nuisance. I enclose a letter from Athelstan Riley; it will interest you. Major B. has been decidedly ill several times on this campaign, and I have literally ordered him to stay in bed to get better, as he would not do so otherwise. I should like, if it comes my way, to bring out a Brigade; I am all for it! Percy’s regiment, the Scots Greys, are in the trenches at present having a hard time. Many thanks for the prospect of another plum pudding; and jam tartlets of some sort, not made with plums, might be very good. Apple tartlets, very sweet, well covered in at the top, would be perfectly splendid. I do not think we require many things now. A lot of cigarettes and tobacco have been sent to us lately….
Such a wet day yesterday. We had service about 11 a.m. in the conservatory of a convent which in some curious way has escaped being destroyed. The enemy were shelling the town, so I put a corporal on the watch to give notice as the shells drew nearer. However, after coming fairly close they stopped firing. In the afternoon I went to see about my crosses for graves. I get a certain number sent down most nights whilst we are in the trenches. We have now the sum total of our children’s ages [about 20] coming to us to-morrow night, so we shall have something to do to put them all up. Of course, these are for my own men only. In our diggings we are constantly turning up the bodies of Indians or Frenchmen, or of a few Englishmen who have held our trenches before us, and have been buried at the back during the night. Very awful, but so is all war. We go in to-night again to our most objectionable duty. I had a letter from Bertha. Col. Farmar is now well established on the staff with Gen. Smith-Dorrien. S.D. is far and away one of the most capable of our Generals, I am told. I am so sorry to hear of Miss Webb’s [of Newstead Abbey] sudden death from heart, just like her sister, Lady Chermside. Well, that is about all my news. I am off this morning to inspect our bomb-throwers. No doubt these nasty weapons are useful on occasions, but they are most dangerous to those who handle them. So, too, with us—that is, in our Brigade—they have only blown up four of themselves. None of my men have done so as yet, I am thankful to say….
Here we arrived peacefully last night; I went through the whole of my lines in places up to my knees in mud, as usual! There is practically no news to give you, excepting that to-day the country looks very nice with a bright sun shining. We have heard heavy firing at Ypres, and do not know what it all means, but I am fairly ready for them, anyhow, if they wish to come. I also learnt that the Germans drove the Russians out of East Prussia, because the latter were short of ammunition, but that the Russians killed and wounded 100,000 Germans before they went. A few more such German “victories” ought to about finish these knaves! How I wish I was back in England and at home!…
Am really in full blast now. On Saturday I was summoned to ride 5 miles to a conference. The first person I saw there was Col. Farmar, who had just returned from a flying visit to England. It was pleasant meeting him again, though we had not much time for a private talk. The conference being over, I was whisked off in a motor with a General. We were driven by a French soldier who had been two years in London and 7 years in America. After lunch at his billet I was told to reconnoitre the trenches we were to occupy that evening; we came upon a French woman of the rich farmer class who had just had her servant killed, and herself and baby wounded by a German shell. Then we went on to the trenches, leaving the General behind, and taking a staff officer instead. I found that my Brigadier had arranged that I was to take over the front of something over two regiments. There were plenty of shells bursting around me, including five in the next house and lots of rifle fire. Well, by the evening I had gathered all the information I wanted to know, so went back in my motor. Meanwhile the Brigadier sent word that we were to go to the town of——. It was perfectly dark there on our arrival, and after proceeding with great care on account of the shell-holes in the streets I came to the only lighted place there was, which turned out to be a General’s headquarters. Here I was allowed to sit by the fire for a few minutes to dry myself, after which I went off in the dark and rain to arrange billets for the Bn. Of course this is not really my business, but everything was so huggermugger that I thought I should get matters along that way. Arriving at 1 a.m., I put the men into deserted French houses. The inhabitants had fled, so I was informed by a French officer at the General’s Headquarters, because the Germans had asked for 50,000 francs for an indemnity, and it was not paid in the given time. They, so he said, shot the mayor and an old man of 80 years and another; so if that is true the people just panicked! We were very comfortable barring sleeping on the floor and having to get up at 5 a.m. on a Sunday, and in snowy weather too! Well, that day I received the order to move, and finally got into our trenches at four-thirty last night in downpours of rain. As we approached these, a heavy fight was in progress, and we came under fire of the spent bullets. One of my very good boxers, poor chap! was hit in the jaw and died at once. I suppose it dislocated the spine. Then the Germans threw star shell on us, and turned a searchlight upon us as well, so altogether made themselves very unpleasant, whilst our own shells burst short just above our heads as we stood on the road. In the dark I sorted everyone out, had a confab. with the two C.Os., and then sent my troops off under officers as guides to their trenches. I need hardly tell you that I hated the whole thing horribly, but one never shows it. The day before my doctor had been taken ill with influenza, and though I asked for another, none could be sent, and there I was with the dead man in the trench and another wounded, and no one to attend to them. However, by dint of sitting up all night, going round the front trenches, etc., I managed to get things more or less right, but was not sorry when day broke without an attack, for if a strong one is made here, we are sure to be broken through. Well, now you would like to hear what sort of place I am in. Imagine a hole in the ground thatched over with mud and broken planks. It is 3 feet deep, and raised just sufficiently for me to sit on the ground without touching my head against the roof. I have some looted straw on the clay, and here I sit and shiver, with my greatcoat and a blanket and mud up to my eyes. From this charming spot I try, with the assistance of many orderlies, to get orders to various companies, sometimes unsuccessfully, for the men lose themselves in a surprising manner when sent on messages. Each time I go forward to the front trenches I have to wade through mud bent double in a little narrow ditch which catches me on either side. We have been told that we are to remain for only forty-eight hours in this place, but it may turn out to be a fortnight for all I know! At present I am using a couple of batteries against the trenches that the Germans are working in on my right. A few men are firing at us from these, but we have hardly fired a shot ourselves, as we are waiting for the enemy to advance, if so inclined. A tremendous bombardment goes on about 10 miles east of us, the heaviest I have heard yet. I nearly went to sleep over this letter, so will stop now, and write more when I have time….
You ask about H—— having a pony; I think he had better get thorough confidence in the donkey first, and learn to go by himself. The reason is plain to anyone who goes in for horses much. A donkey, though it kicks a good deal, generally has its hind feet unshod, and in any case does not kick hard enough to more than hurt a little. A pony, on the contrary, is very liable to throw one off and then kick one’s skull in. I remember my brother H—— being knocked off and kicked by a mare. A little nearer, and he would never have moved again. Therefore I think it would be wiser to get our boy used to his donkey and not afraid of it. I will have a look at him when (and if) I get home again. Yesterday I went in the afternoon to put our cemetery straight. It was being shelled at the time, and as I crept round some of our batteries afterwards, the guns were being hit, also a rather nice farm in which they were placed surrounded by a moat. The enemy have been shelling us this morning too, very closely, but I am tired, and my nerves, as you know, are not very jumpy! I was up just after 3 o’clock this morning, and went to various places, nearly being lost in a quagmire! Two of my men were hit, one by a spent bullet in the stomach. We can see the bullet, so I expect he will not die. The other was shot through the thigh, and the bullet stuck in his hand! We have got it out, and I am forwarding it to the authorities, as it has taken such a queer shape that one wonders if the German bullets are according to rules. This is a sketch of the bullet as it was originally and now. You can imagine what pain such a thing must give….
We are in support now. As we moved down here one of my men was hit in the “hinder parts.” Very unfair advantage for an enemy to take. Of course it was dark; we found, however, that he was not dangerously wounded. That man whose bullet I drew you yesterday had his thigh bone smashed, poor fellow! Did you see that some officers who were prisoners had been exchanged by Germany (the incurable ones)? The two seniors mentioned I knew. One was Major Davey of the Middlesex Regt., whose brother lives in Newark. The other is Major Chichester, with whom I used to hunt in Dover. Did you see French’s last despatches? I heard from Aden last night. The Colonel next junior to me out there sent all the news. They have had heavy rain, and the whole place is green (?). It is said not to have happened since the Flood! Then I received a pessimistic letter from Aunt H—— telling me that lots of wounded were expected and that the war would not cease. The Kaiser is not running this world’s course. He is only allowed to go on as far as is good for him and for us. If he were, I should be pessimistic too, but I have yet to learn that “the arm of the Lord is shortened,” and until then we can rest in peace no matter what happens, my dear. I enclose you a cutting from the People sent by Aunt H—— about the Saddlers’ Co. All the Lauries belong to it. My Father was Master more than once, and also Uncle Alfred. A bright beautiful springlike day, but a little cold. The pudding arrived yesterday; many thanks for it. Our dinner also consisted of smoked sprats from Major Baker; cake and tinned peaches from Capt. Wright; figs and ginger from Mr. Brown, so we did not do badly. We had an adventure last night with a wagon which contained our little all. The man drove carelessly, and the wagon fell into a ditch 3 feet deep in water. After carefully unloading it, I gave them a pair of horses and 50 men to get it out. They pulled it up all right, but it next fell into the ditch on the other side, where it had to be left till the morning, when we sent out just at dawn and brought it in. All this kept us late for dinner, as you may imagine….
No letters at all, as, owing to the submarines, we are dodging the mails across somewhere else, I expect. The great difficulty is to catch your submarine, though you may see him often enough. The craze for going boating in these vessels will shortly die out amongst the Germans, I fancy, when they find out the number of boats that do not come home! At present they are looking out for one or two which I understand will not reappear, and thus they have to keep ships cruising about in search of them with petrol and food. Of course these are neutral ships; but it adds to our chance of finding out where and how these knaves draw their supplies! I have heard that it is from Ireland; but I expect the Government knows more than it lets out. Yesterday the Germans shelled us for an hour and a half; they just missed us, and killed a poor civilian behind the houses instead. They have increased our leave by one day now; still, whether they will grant mine a second time is uncertain, but I continue to hope. The awkward part is that they never let me know in time to write and tell you. Supposing it is granted, I may arrive on the night of February 25th; but if I do get across I must do a little shopping in London first, and fit myself out with some things I badly want: then I shall come on to you as soon as possible. It is rather a bore that the war will not stop, and I am annoyed that I have been kept out in India and away from you for over two years! The weather is improving here and getting more springlike. What are the Germans going to do now?…
I was very glad to hear from you yesterday, when two of your letters arrived together. Of course we had been done by these German submarines; so evidently the authorities thought it wiser not to run the Folkestone boats all through the day, for fear of giving the Germans an opportunity of sinking them! I fancy at night you are as likely as not to run over a submarine. In the same way I make no doubt that many of the German ones have been run down and sunk on the quiet. We go into the trenches again to-night, worse luck! My leave was refused on the ground that the General was not giving anyone a second leave, but the Staff captain added that it was only a matter of a few weeks’ delay, when he would probably grant it if he could. I have been over to my transport lines on horseback this morning. I have to keep my eye on some 60 horses and mules who mostly stand out in muddy fields; but as they are very well fed and not overworked at present, there is nothing much wrong with them, excepting that their thick woolly coats gather vermin a little. I have had broken bricks and cinders put down for them to stand on, and thus lifted them out of the mud. I was over yesterday getting my hair cut, when I met Mr. Sherlock out for a walk, and as I was obliged to wait for an hour or so, I had tea with him. He told me that my name was mentioned in French’s despatches. Well, that is quite pleasant, and I hope next time some of my officers will join me. Do you remember a Col. Gough in Dublin about the time we were married? Well, he is Brigadier-General on the Staff now, and yesterday went down to our lines of trenches. He was shot through the groin, and I am afraid has been very badly wounded. The enemy proceeded to shell E—— yesterday whilst I was there. Their gun must have been 5 miles from it. The first shot knocked a big tree down in a timber yard, of all places, but did no further damage. The second one went over my head, fell in a soft place, and exploded its energy in nothing. Then I left E——. Monson, my old servant, has joined me, looking more like a cross between an owl and a stork than ever!…
Just now we are undergoing a shelling from a heavy German howitzer; a piece fell at my feet as I was outside talking to Col. Spedding, cousin to Major Spedding of my regiment, whom you knew. He tells me that Major S. is supposed to be dead, but the difficulty is that every now and then some rumour comes that he has been seen alive, and poor Mrs. Spedding catches at any hope. He was a brave man, which, after all, is what we want. I enclose you my sister Amy’s letter. Yesterday I had to go off to look at some forts. The German snipers were busy, though there was so thick a mist that they could not see me. Still, their bullets fell pretty close, and hit one of the forts; a man was also wounded in the leg. It shows how dangerous this unaimed fire can be when it comes in quantities. I had a quaint postcard from Sydney in reply to my last letter. Yes; I saw that Massereene, poor Herbert Stepney, and many others I know were mentioned in the despatches. The Military Cross is a new order, awarded to junior officers. As to the Russians, they have large numbers of men, but are still unfortunately short of equipment. Germany had plenty of men, though she never imagined that she would have to get the last 2 millions out. They were not trained, but neither were the Russians; I think, however, that we shall wear them down all right in the end. The Germans are supposed to have used up half their last million already. Our days here are very hard; for instance, I was up at 2 a.m., and have been walking or working ever since then, arranging with engineers or Generals or artillery officers what is to be done. I lay down for an hour after 6 o’clock, but could not sleep on account of cold feet.
I am glad you had a pleasant “meet” at Ossington, and I am much obliged for Mr. Denison’s kind inquiries after me. I know how seriously ill he is, but I think it is quite likely many of us will go before…. We had a sharp frost last night, though my men are fairly used to it now. They are just like a lot of naughty children! For instance, I had two killed yesterday, through either their own or their comrades’ faults. One man was watching our guns shelling the enemy’s trenches. He was told to lie down or he would be shot. He did so, and the moment he saw a favourable opportunity he popped up again, and was promptly shot dead. The other was in front of the trenches mending wires, and his comrades, seeing that their N.C. officer was out, joyfully seized the occasion to stoke their fire and have a big blaze. The result was the unfortunate man showed up against it and was shot through the head; and their fire was kicked bodily into the water by an irate N.C.O. But they will do exactly the same to-morrow and the next day and the day after! The fact is, they never think! I am waiting now to take the Brigade Major and one of “K.’s Army” round the trenches to show them what I can, so that K.’s officer may not have quite a “green” crew when he arrives. More Germans have gathered in front of us lately, I think. I have written to London for an awfully good new waterproof, as I must keep dry, and I have had to send to “Flight” for a new uniform coat. When they come I shall be fairly set up, though the trenches have played havoc with my riding things; but they will have to do for the present. Would you kindly look in my unpainted tin-lined box and get me out a pair of khaki puttees. If you cannot find them there, they will be in a black wooden box. Get someone to help you. Both trunks are in the box-room, but do not catch cold when watching them. I have now returned from the trenches. We were sniped a little; the General went up another trench alongside us with the adjutant of a certain regiment, Capt. Thompson, and he, poor fellow! was killed. He was a good sort, and was in here yesterday to see me, and talking about his 3 children so cheerily: one, a boy, at, I think, the Beacon School, Sevenoaks, and on his way to Eton. Mr. Adderley came back this morning with a wonderful story that the Navy had caught an oil tank vessel supplying oil to the German submarines, and that the crew were taken to our Depot in Belfast and there shot! Presumably it is not true!…
Thanks for your letter. I heard from Sir John, and there was one, too, from my Mother, who is a very regular correspondent. Aunt Mary Cowell’s letter turned up also, so I must get letters of thanks written to everyone in due course. To-night I am dining with Gen. Pinney. He and I are supposed to be the two optimists of the Division. Snow on the ground and rather cold. I hope the Germans are very cold and short of food! I am waiting to find out the time of poor Capt. Thompson’s funeral. He was killed when with the General yesterday, as I told you. Sir John Ross is most kind in his remarks, is he not? I thought I had told you that B. and M.’s matches duly arrived. I am sure, in fact, that I did do so. Hal is not too young to ride a pony soon, though Sydney would be; but then you want a man to keep him well on the lead at first. My idea is, as I said before, that when he gets absolutely au fait with his donkey, it would be time enough to put him on a pony. When a boy is over 8 or 9, it is safe to let him ride regularly. Earlier than that, I don’t approve of. I fancy that this Dardanelles business, if properly run, will lead to great results. Personally, I always thought that they had too many troops in Egypt for the sole purpose of defence. Now I suppose they will put some of them up the Dardanelles, and Dame Rumour says that Generals of the Naval Divisions have gone across to the Dardanelles already, but, of course, that may not be true….
Rostrevor House,
Rostrevor, Ireland.
20.2.15.
My dear G——,
Very many congratulations on your being mentioned in despatches, which we are so delighted to see. All the more credit to you that, although you have been out at the front for some time, you were not there at the beginning of the war, and I know in all these cases, when other things are equal, the “mention” goes to those who have been out the longest. I think you know about as much of what is going on as we do, for, on the whole, we are told very little. Yet I am glad to say we are promised two short official accounts every week, and so we must be grateful for that amount of news. The main question outside the actual operations relates to the German intention; if they can torpedo every ship they see, whether it belongs to a belligerent or a neutral! It was always held to be a piece of cruel barbarity to sink a trading vessel without notice, even if belonging to a belligerent nation, the right course being to find out first whether she is a belligerent or not, and then to capture her. It was never considered fair warfare to touch a neutral. But who can say what “Kultur” will bring us to? Most people would call it unblushing piracy and attempted wholesale murder. But we will see what happens. Naval “Kultur” began the day before yesterday, and the report to-day is that a Norwegian neutral was torpedoed. F—— is very well, but does not come here till April. Sydney is here, and is getting fat and chubby, a delightful little boy, and keeps us all very cheery. We have had two delicious days as far as weather is concerned. I hope you have had the same change for the better.
May God keep you safe and sound, dear old G——, is, with our love, our very earnest hope.
I am,
Yours affectionately,
J.R. of B——.
We went to poor Capt. Thompson’s funeral yesterday, Major B. and myself. A military funeral in the field is of three sorts. Well away from the enemy the soldier is borne on a stretcher, sewn up in his blankets and wrapped in a flag. Nearer the enemy you dispense with a flag; and finally, of course, in the trenches, when you cannot get out, you crawl down a ditch and dig a hole in the side and bury the poor fellow. Ours was of the second sort, as it was within long-range rifle fire, but somewhat screened by a hedge. Four officers carried the stretcher, and about six others followed behind. The grave was lined with wheaten straw, unthreshed, and the clergyman read a very short service, and then we all slipped quietly away. After the funeral we trotted on to the 5th Battery. They are friends of ours, and had been heavily shelled the day before; we telephoned them to inquire the result, but had received no answer. The operator, it seems, was obliged to take refuge in a cellar with some women and children, for the enemy positively rained shells upon them, fortunately, however, from a field gun only. Then shells struck the house itself, and the others made holes in the ground round it. Two went through the adjoining windows, two others into the dust-heap, etc. The cause of it was that the French owner had brought a threshing machine and was threshing out his wheat. Of course, the smoke of the engine attracted the Germans at once. The French are very much amused at this, I am told, for they do not allow any such things near their lines; but our Staff are soft-hearted. I had a very pleasant little dinner with Gen. Pinney last night, and played Bridge for an hour—the first game I have had time for since I left the transport at Liverpool. That will give you an idea of how busy I am. When I can, I sleep; otherwise I work hard. We are looking forward to more tartlets. I do not believe in riding lessons at present for H——. Let Sheppard teach him. My father showed me how to hold the reins, and I learnt the remainder myself. Far and away the best way too….
A very cold day with east wind. It will be bitter in the trenches. I hope the Germans are finding it so! I send you a note from some R.I.C. Sergeant in Belfast. Your extract from the Irish Evening Telegraph about me is rather amusing! As to your going to Ireland, it is early yet to decide. Who knows what a day may bring forth at any time? So poor Mr. Gorton has gone. The people in his village will miss him greatly. I will try and put a note in this letter for Patience Gorton, as I know her best, and you can send it on. I always forget the name of their place. By the way, I remember now that it is called Walesby, so will post it direct and save you the trouble. I am glad you thought of sending a wreath. I went for a long ride with the object of seeing someone in the Border Regt. yesterday whom Major Baker knew. Not one officer who came out with that regiment is with it now. This gives you an idea of what is going on here….
Lieutenant-Colonel G.B. Laurie.
Sir,
We write to say how very glad we are to see that you are safe and well. We were delighted to see by the papers that you were among those mentioned for gallantry in the despatch sent home a few days ago by Field-Marshal Sir John French. We have tried to locate the different gentlemen now on active service who had been residing in this district, and the press is our medium—it was there we learnt you were at the front, and we are most anxious, and dearly hope that they all, who were when here so very kind to us, and are now risking their lives that we may be free—may be restored to their homes in perfect health and strength.
This is the spirit which prompts the writing of this letter, and we beg of you not to think us unduly familiar, but rather that we most sincerely hope that you may have perfect health and strength, and, above all, that you may, when the time comes, return home safe and well.
Your obedient servant,
Jeremiah Lee,
Sergt. R.I.C.
I had a hurried ride yesterday in a piercing wind to see my 70 or 80 horses. In the afternoon, just as we were starting off to the trenches, we were stopped and told to wait whilst the Gunners tried to cut the wire in front of the German trenches with shells. Such a course of action may lead to heavy sniping, as you can quite well imagine. However, we got in all right by eight o’clock, and I wandered round my trenches until between 12 and 1 o’clock a.m. This morning we received a notice that we were to be withdrawn to reserve to-morrow or the next day, owing to more troops coming into the line. I had to take the General round who succeeds me in these trenches. He seemed such a nice man. We are supposed to leave to-morrow night if these people can get out from their trenches. The enemy is shelling us now, and as it is a particularly clear day they are using it to the best advantage to try and destroy us. I must turn our guns on to them if they go on like this. I only wish we could swamp the brutes with numbers and get the war over. I am not disturbed about Russia. If we can get the Dardanelles open, we can easily send her ammunition and equipment for her spare men, and so end the war more quickly; but, failing that, I think Russia will easily foil Germany, and spring at her again and again until she is worn out. I had a letter of congratulation from your sister Mabel. Very kind of her….
A wet, muggy morning. I have been waiting for 3 hours to accompany the General round the lines since 6.30 a.m. At 9.30 I telephoned in, and found that he had gone to some other duty and forgotten me! However, it cannot be helped. He and I are really very friendly. More fighting on our right, with very heavy big gun fire. I expect the brickfields at La Bassée are again being a scene of mortal combat. We were ordered last night to try to ascertain if the Germans still occupied their trenches as usual; so we crept out and looked about, and found everything much the same. As to the khaki-coloured shirts, would you have them put away by sizes, please, when they are made up, till wanted; the present ones will wear out with a rush from being worn night and day, and from having been badly washed and scorched when drying, so they may be wanted in a hurry. Whilst waiting about here this morning, I amused myself by looking for shell holes round our ruins. So far as I can see, they are everywhere, like the holes in a sponge for numbers. My artillery is just going to blow up a house where the enemy hid a machine gun last night, and which opened on us during the night and thought we did not know! I also have another R.A. officer throwing tins full of gun cotton and nails into the German trenches at this very moment. A nice Christian occupation, truly! I ought to know in a few days if there is any chance of second leave or not.