wheeling two large wheelbarrows full of household goods which they had removed from some local houses to take back to another ruin where they were living, out of shell fire. Of course the stuff was theirs, but these poor things always forget that, besides their own safety, they bring fire on the houses near them, so we had to send them roughly away; but I did feel so sorry, and in the end persuaded the General to promise them a pass for to-night so as to get the wheelbarrows away. Practice makes perfect, for I spoke to them more or less in fluent French! I never told you what a comfort the watch you gave me has been. It keeps excellent time, and is most reliable. I must try and get some sleep to-day, as I foresee another busy night, and my feet are so cold, the result, I suppose, of two long tramps in ice-cold water. May the war soon cease!
Here we are in a snowstorm! I received your note of 14th last night. Not bad, when it has to get to London, leave our base, and come part of the way to the trenches upon foot for safety. I really sent the account of our Christmas luncheon to you. It was an R.A. captain who lunched with us, and afterwards wrote to his people about it. They published the letter, and I found it in
I was round again last night, not much shot at personally, though chance bullets flew overhead in an embarrassing way, hitting the ground in various places. Capt. Tee had a couple of narrow escapes yesterday while he was out with us. I was inspecting our dressing station arranging about our little cemetery with the doctor and Capt. Wright, when a bullet cut the grass beside us in a most uncalled for manner. So it goes on, and so I hope the war will shortly wind up. I expect things are not very cosy in Germany either!…
Two letters from you last night up to January 16th. Poor little Blanche, having her teeth out! They do hurt! Had more Christmas cards sent on from Aden. A fairly quiet day yesterday, though there is always fighting Ypres way, and we hear it plainly. This morning I was out at four a.m. with the Brigade Major, and took up the running afterwards with the General about 8 o’clock. I assured him that a certain trench was not the place for him, but he said he had a special wish to visit it, so with his usual dauntless courage off we went. Next minute a bullet hit the ground right between us. After that he thought it wise to retire, and we marched away homeward. My feet were practically frozen with the cold water, and I can’t say I was sorry to leave. The authorities, however, are issuing some stuff which is supposed to keep the feet warm, so I propose getting hold of some to sample the next time I come to the trenches, and shall tell you of the results. I must write a letter to Mr. Aitchison to-morrow when I arrive in billets and get hold of some notepaper. It looks to me very dull, like rain or snow. I expect more plum puddings and pheasants are waiting for me when I get out. Thank you for them in anticipation. I fancy that Germany has had an awful eye-opener. In her big war with France in July, 1870, which she has lived on for the last forty-five years, the fighting was over in January, 1871. Now it is just beginning for her. Still, I cannot help thinking that peace is in sight somewhere soon.
Yours….
We go into reserve to-night for 3 days, and need not get up at 5 a.m. Great joy!
We marched out of the trenches successfully last night, getting in here about nine o’clock. Then I had to see to my company commanders and a lot of other work too, for a regiment will not run itself properly unless someone looks after it. I was rather amused at a case I had this morning of an N.C.O. charged with letting his rifle become dirty. He admitted the offence, but stated that whilst he was watching everyone out of the trenches, he heard cries for help, and found a small rifleman stuck in a ditch up to his shoulders, and that he was carrying, besides his rifle, a pick and shovel; so the N.C.O. went to his aid and got engulfed too. Hence his trouble about his rifle. The enemy, to prevent our forgetting him, is throwing big shells into the place we are billeted in. As he knows, probably, that the women and children have returned here, he expects with luck to make a big bag of such non-combatants. It was luxury last night getting into bed again without boots, even if one had no other night attire! You will be pleased to hear that your tobacco arrived this morning. The people who sent it were not very bright, for, despite the fact that my address was plainly painted on every box, they had stupidly nailed on other cards marked from Griffith, Solicitor, S. Wales, and addressed to the S. Wales Borderers or 24th Regiment. This was done to at least half of the cases. Apparently they had stuck them on the wrong boxes. Whether this accounts for the delay I cannot say. Anyhow, each box had 15 lbs. of tobacco, and I think there were 16 boxes. Well, then your last lot of plum pudding arrived, and has been issued to be eaten to-morrow. There were 65 tins containing four and a half lbs. each, so I think, my dear, that the men will be grateful to you. There was also a large bale of things like cigarettes and gloves from other associations, but nothing to touch your consignments. We had to turn out of our happy ruin twice yesterday afternoon whilst the enemy threw high-explosive shells our way, and just missed us. Fortunately his supply of ammunition is said to be running short, or he would do worse mischief. I had a very nice letter from my Mother and from Meta yesterday…. Your pheasants have come, also the ham, very well packed. Biscuits a little knocked about, but still edible; many thanks for them all. It is so misty and cold, a typical raw day in your own hunting district. Best of love, and hoping that the war will soon be over….
Got some of the French mud off my men yesterday, took the horse out to examine the neighbouring roads in case of a retreat, and dined with the General. He, poor man, finds the times very evil and the enemy very strong. I have written to my Mother to-day, telling her how I propose spending her present to me. By the way, I only got my trophies in time across to England. Four days ago an Army Order came out that nothing was allowed to be taken away, and that all such things found must be taken to the depots. Of course we must do so for the future, though I hope to be able to borrow a Prussian helmet with luck before I come home again. In the meantime, have the other stuff cleaned up and lacquered; it keeps rust off, and saves the servants much trouble. The A. and N. Stores can do this if you cannot get it well done in Newark…. Poor Mrs. Miles! She is dreadfully cut up. Capt. Allgood and Capt. Miles are now gone. I liked them both, but we shall meet again face to face some day…. I only wish that I could impress this more on one’s daily thoughts and walk of life. Well, I do not mean to preach, but it comes in my lowland Scotch blood, I suppose!…
Thanks for your note last night of January 19th. As you say, considering war time, this is quick. But at present it is a stationary war, and there is no reason why it should not be so. Once we get on the move, you will see that things will work badly, and we shall be short of food and of mails too. I was glad to get Aunt B——’s letter. Yesterday was an absolute drench. I rode, all the same, for exercise, and on the way back the enemy proceeded to shell the road; at the very extremity of their range, I fancy. It is curious how one takes the shelling nowadays. One becomes a fatalist! “If it hits me, it must hit me; I cannot escape, but I hope it will not” sort of thing. We return to the trenches this afternoon. Our General leaves to-night, but before then he has elected to inspect our billets in the afternoon, and to have a night alarm in the trenches early this evening. All the Colonels have therefore put their heads together to keep things as right as possible for him. Major Baker also goes on leave for about 10 days or so to-night, with various other officers who have well earned a rest. I see you had Zeppelins over you yesterday, or
