Letters of Lt.-Col. George Brenton Laurie

fight. Our last hostess was the daughter of a gamekeeper; that was where we had some milk yesterday morning. She said that her father escaped the Germans by jumping on a horse and riding 20 miles. I think I could have walked that distance easily for the same reason. Col. Napier told me that his boy Charlie was captured by the Germans at school at Hanover, “which,” he added, “doesn’t make me love my enemies any more.”…

In Billets.

December 29th, 1914.

We are off to-night for the trenches again. I hear that the Germans spent their time shelling our particular ones. It is to be hoped that they have used up their ammunition for the present, as I believe they are rather short. Such a night as it was; blowing a raging gale; but one gets very selfish, and we only remarked: “What an awful night in the trenches! Please God the Germans do not attack! Thank God we are not in them to-night!” and that was all. I wonder how long this war will go on. It never seems to come to an end, does it? I walked yesterday afternoon to a small town beyond shell fire and had my hair cut at last. I also had tea with a Capt. Sherlock, whose wife, I think, was a friend of yours, one of Sir Francis Cruise’s daughters, “Gussie.” I heard from Major Alston, of the 2nd Bat., how Capt. Whelan was killed. He showed great courage, and stood up on a parapet to demonstrate to his men where he wanted some digging done, only 250 yds. from the Germans. Of course he was seen at once, and was hit in the lungs. Major A—— also said that he was commanding that Battalion, and it was full of strange officers, but I expect they are doing all right. I fancy our German friends are finding the war longer than they thought. A curious coincidence is that we are opposed to the 25th German Infantry Brigade, that, of course, being our own number. So far we have not received Princess Mary’s boxes. We shall get them in time, and I shall let you know later on about the plum puddings when I hear from the A.D.C. I did not get a letter from you last night, no doubt owing to Christmas Day and delayed posts….

In Trenches.

December 30th, 1914.

Just returned to my ruin from my trenches. They are up nearly to the waist in water, with little islands here and there for the men. I am absolutely trembling with cold, though I have changed my garments. Whilst I was there poor Capt. Miles, attached to me, was shot through the head. Being close by, I waded to him, but it was hopeless from the first. Such a place to die in!—but Heaven will be Heaven after that. His poor wife, too. I must write to her. He was a very nice man. I had plenty of morphia given to him, and he is now dying without any pain quite peacefully. Coming away from him, the German snipers spotted me, and twice I was covered with mud from their bullets; a near shave! It is a good thing to be able to look forward to Heaven as a home. I only wish I could realize it even more than I do. I will write you again as soon as we get into billets when I can find my valise. I think at Carlton you are fairly safe from air raids….

P.S.—Mincepies tried to-day are excellent. I have heard from Capt. Boscawen about the plum pudding. It seems that a portion had to go to other regiments of the Brigade, but I should like you to send over some more for my Regiment only as soon as you can conveniently order it. Princess Mary’s present has arrived, and I have sent it across to you for safe custody. The keeper might like the pipe and tobacco. I am sure you will appreciate the brass box as a memento, for we have both won it very hardly…. I have just been to see poor Capt. Miles carried out on a stretcher dead. I wonder how much of this war and the deaths caused by it will rest on the Kaiser’s shoulders. I must now write a further letter to go to his wife. He was a talented man, and used to write for papers. When the war broke out he was running a cinematograph film-collecting expedition in German East Africa, and just managed to get away. Poor fellow!

G.B.L. 30.12.14.

LETTERS OF JANUARY, 1915.

In Billets.

January 2nd, 1915.

My dear F——

I am not asking you to do anything to-day for me, as I hope to come in person, leaving here on Monday morning. The hour of my arrival at Carlton depends on whether I can get through quickly or not, and whether the Kaiser tries to sink the Boulogne to Folkestone boat. Knowing his peculiarities, I think he would probably wait until he found an emigrant ship well laden with women and children. What brutes the Germans have proved themselves! After heavy rain, the day has turned out bright and cold. The ditches are nearly full of water, which means that all communication trenches will be worse than ever, and Heaven knows they are bad enough already! Yes, I sent some of my private affairs to Carlton to await my return after this war, when I can attend to them, if I really do come back…. There are moments I wonder if anyone will!… The Times of December 28th gave the names of 45 officers killed and 66 wounded between December 21st and 24th. We were fighting fairly hard all the while, but still, if we are as one to nine of the French, this shows that our combined losses would be roughly 1,100 officers for four days, before you come to the men. How matters stand with the Germans can only be conjectured. We learnt from a prisoner the other day that we had inflicted such terrible losses that they had been obliged to change their hour of relieving trenches. As a matter of fact, it had not occurred to us that we had given them any losses at all to speak of at those particular times. Anyhow, if Germany is losing as it is said she is in proportion of three to one of our men, the war cannot continue indefinitely. I hear the fight on my right and on my left at Ypres and La Bassee, both places being hard fought for by the opposing sides, and the row is sometimes deafening. As to your inquiries about Major Abadie, there is nothing to be said. If alive, he ought to have been heard of before now. Probably the poor fellow is dead, and was buried by the Germans or by the Belgian peasants, and no one will ever know what has become of him. A lot of Christmas cards have been sent to me … but of course I cannot carry them about … I am afraid mine is very much a soldier’s faith. It seems to me one’s duty is placed in front of one by Providence, and that if one carries it out faithfully and honestly, whate’er befalls, it is well, … and this, I am sure, is the creed of all good soldiers. The shelling is making the house shake, but nothing very serious, I think, at present.

Yours….

G——.

In Billets.

January 3rd, 1915.

Just across the farmyard under my windows is the barn where my Catholic men are having High Mass, and where in half an hour, if alive, we shall have our service too. There was a good precedent for stables, I believe, 1915 years ago, so we do not view it as incongruous, but I understand that High Mass is unusual, and no doubt a great honour to the Regiment. I hear that our leave does not come off till January 6th. That puts me into the trenches to-morrow night again, for a short time. Last night, about 10.30 o’clock, I was snuggled in my blankets, not very well, for ice-cold water has a way of making you feel it after you are forty-four! However, I was awakened by a tremendous bombardment, all our guns going around us. It broke out twice again: I knew then what it was by putting two and two together. We had found out from a prisoner that the Germans were changing their trench troops about that time, and if we managed to catch them, we must have done them much harm. Rode over to inspect my transport yesterday. Incidentally, Major Baker and I bought 1-? doz. eggs at four for a franc. Famine price, of course, but I have only seen two since I came over here! As to the discomfort of this work, it is not very pleasant, but I do not trouble greatly about it. As an unmarried man, I should not mind the danger either very much, having had a certain amount of experience in Egypt and South Africa, but as a married man, I hate it, because I think it would probably make a great difference to our young people when they grow up if I get killed. Sybil R—— wrote to me yesterday. You know I am her trustee. As to matches, etc., for the troops, keep all waiting now till I get over, and then it will be easy to help you about these things. Well, I must stop to go to church, and there is a good deal also for me to see to afterwards….

January 4th, 1915.

No letter from you last night. So far, no further news of my leave either, but I believe it is due on January 6th all right. Slight rheumatism, that is only to be expected. It has been raining hard, and we are off to the trenches to-night, and I should think they will be worth seeing. It is said that the ground our trenches now occupy will soon be turned into a lake, and we shall have to go boating there. I warned the General the other day in fun that he