MY DEAREST MUMMY & DADDY,—Just got your letter—and cannot tell you how
pleased I was to get it. Things have been pretty fast and furious since
I wrote night before last. Yesterday morning, having been working all
night I was just trying to get some sleep in a new dug-out which I had
had built, when there was a shout of ‘The Gas, Sir!’ Out I bounced and
was immediately aware of this Chlorine ‘muckins’ coming up the hill.
It was just getting dawn and so I knew, as we all knew, that there was
going to be an attack—and my aunt—it _was_ an attack. For 2 hrs solid
the Germans rained every calibre of shell on us in our Reserve Trenches
whilst we were also struggling with the Gas. I don’t know what happened
to the Platoon during that time—except that several swines—my servant
for one—took panic and ran. Personally I knelt down behind a parapet and
prayed. However, the Gas wasn’t a success for the Germans for it soon
blew off. They reckoned, of course, that whilst they attacked the first
line trenches where A, C, D Companies were, they could make things so
hot for us in Reserve (200 yards back) that we couldn’t send help along.
However, about 4.15 A.M. I managed to collect the remnants of my Platoon
and make a bid for the first line trenches—not by charging across the
intervening ground which would have wiped us out—but by crawling along
a very muddy communication trench which connected the French line with
us. This we succeeded in doing without a casualty—and we then joined D
Company in the 1st line trenches. From that time onwards a very fierce
artillery battle raged until the evening—and the Germans made repeated
attacks from 400 yards off—each time being knocked back into their
trenches like a rabbit down a hole. Then, last night, when we heard
that the Germans had taken 2 trenches on our left and when we expected
we should make a counter-attack—orders came that we should retire right
back to the very incomplete trenches in which we are now. We marched
back here, then, during the night—dug ourselves in—and are now awaiting
developments under a perfectly tropical sun and sky—_too_ hot almost. It
_was_ sickening having to retire like that—for we had done magnificiently
all day—A & C Companies having been almost wiped out by the German shell
fire. They are absolute fiends at that.
Anyhow—here we are always merry and bright in our new position, none
of us having had any sleep for 3½ days! I never could have believed
that our men could stick things like they have these 3 days—they are
magnificient—no other word for them. Those fellows who deserted yesterday
will probably be shot. I would have shot them myself, and been perfectly
justified, if I hadn’t been doubled up with the Gas.
If we have to reinforce the first line, if it gets hit badly again, the
Essex will pull things together—not ’alf!
For other light on what is happening here you must read the papers, if
they have anything authentic. We are just a little to the left of where
I told you in one of my letters before from hospital. We heard of Italy
declaring war last night. Good work! I am sorry about Raffles—but it is
getting on now, isn’t it?—near the end of May!
I am so glad you liked Rooke’s mamma. I am afraid I don’t know about
Carolyn—I think he has got people in town—but I will let you know if I
find out when things are quieter here! At the moment of writing there
are shells whizzing all over the place—‘Little Willies’ we call their
shrapnel shells!
I haven’t seen any papers for days—but we shall have a rest some
time—when this thing is over.
Ever so much love—I am as fit as anything—in spite of their gases.
Ever yr loving son,