Trenches
June 30th
Dear May
You will be right in the middle of winter now with its short days, snowstorms etc. The gardens around the ruined & deserted houses, although overgrown with long grass, are gay with roses, Xmas lilies & other summer flowers, Red currants, strawberries & a few gooseberries are ripe, & what is more noteworthy we have just finished a big “Xmas Dinner” of new potatoes, green peas, & stewed fruit. We 3 & Mark C are in the same bivvy & we brought the peas & potatoes out from town & got the fruit “locally”. It seems strange to have Xmas flowers & Xmas vegetables but no Xmas. Fancy a summer without a Holiday Season. Of course at this job it wouldn’t affect us if they had a Xmas every week
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but in “civvy” life it must be very hard to forego the midsummer festivities, just because one is at the wrong side of the globe. Of course this is a “backsheesh” summer for us so we can’t complain. Where we are we are able to do a little cooking for ourselves & although we can’t cook flash dinners every day we make Quaker oats for breakfast & have a cup of cocoa & toast for supper. We have plenty of time to spare & these little extras don’t cost much & are a welcome addition to the army rations. War news is sort of scarce as we are not in the front trench. Last night after a particularly heavy bombardment the Austs made a big raid on the German trench & captured about 100 prisoners & did a good deal of damage over there. This is a favourite game here now
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& usually comes off successfully. I believe the Austs only had 7 casualties last night. One night a while ago old Fritz didn’t see what was to stop him doing it so he sent about 60 men over but not one of them got back & the only ones that reached the Aust trench arrived there as prisoners. A big bombardment here is a thing to remember. It is a lovely sight at nighttime but the noise is terrible. The whole sky is ablaze with smoke & flames & star shells. At times it is like a gorgeous sunset & half a dozen thunder storms mixed together, with comets, meteors & everything else thrown in. The shells scream through the air making all sorts of weird rushing noises, some come with a big swish like a wave, others screech like a circular saw
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but they all start & finish with a sickening roar that seems to shake the whole universe. For hours, in some cases days, this is kept up so incessantly that it is just one long crashing nerve-racking rumble. So far we have not had more than an hour at a time, but this is a comparatively quiet sector. I don’t know what Verdun must be like. You would be sorry to hear of poor old Kitchener’s death. He is not the sort of man we could spare at a time like this. The news was received very quietly here, the troops seem to have a calm way of bowing to the inevitable. What causes more consternation is the fact that a new-fledged officer was entrusted with our latest aeroplane & flew straight into the German aerodrome at Lille “because he had never been to…
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France & didn’t know the way”. Lord Curzon says “such things have happened before & will happen again”. In the meantime we have to “carry-on”, filling sandbags, manning trenches, & carrying out our wounded. A few nights ago I was lucky enough to run across Holmes Hartley. He is as cheerful as ever but as we were on a pretty hot fatigue we didn’t yarn for very long. He says it is right about Geo Moffitt but in a letter written from the Hosp. he said he was getting on well. Last week I posted you a copy of “Fragments from France”. It gives you some choice samples of trench humour & is wonderfully true to life. The back grounds give a remarkably accurate idea of the shell-swept landscape with its torn up trees & battered buildings. I hope you receive it alright. Bon soir.
Love to all
Len
