I received yesterday a letter from you and one from Win. I am sorry to
hear you had not heard from me for some time. How long was it? as I
have never been a week yet without sending off a letter. Only once has
there been more than five or six days between letters. My last was
sent off on Friday night and the previous one the Friday before. By
the time you receive this you will be glad to know that I am out of
the trenches (D.V.) for 16 days, and shall have a nice rest. Yesterday
we fired some ranging shots and were unsuccessful, as there was a
strong head wind. I was firing obliquely thus:
[Illustration]
and the first shot got blown right back into our wire and put me in a
fearful funk. To-day I had my usual breakfast at 10-0 in bed, washed,
shaved, and then went along to see "A" Company Commander to arrange
about firing. On the way to his headquarters I saw a captain of the
R.H.A., and found out he had come to be in command of a heavy trench
mortar battery in our brigade. While talking, he mentioned the name of
a man's father whom I knew at Jesus, and then I found out he had been
at Jesus; he was in his third year when I was in my first, I had met
him and knew his name well and he knew mine. I was extremely pleased
to have him in the brigade. This afternoon a major in command asked me
to get on to a dug-out in the German lines, the roof of which was
showing over the parapet and from where a sniper had killed one of his
men. I did so. We fired four shots, all landed in the trench, the
fourth blowing up the dug-out. That sniper snipes no more. The
infantry were awfully bucked and several men have spoken to me as I
wander along the trenches about our good shooting. It was a long-range
and there was a difficult wind. I was very pleased. The Germans
retaliated with mortars, but fell short of our front line. Then I went
and had tea, having done a good day's work. To-night the company I
mess with kindly invited Lloyd-Barrow, the Jesus man, to dinner, and I
am just going to bed now. I will send this letter off to-morrow night
when we arrive in billets. I am afraid that it is rather short, but
one has very little time on one's hands in the trenches, I find.
Yesterday we came out of the trenches. In the morning I got up early
and was cleaned for the fray at 10-0 o'clock when with his and I with
my guns we played havoc for an hour or so. The men were very pleased
when I removed what they declared to be a cookhouse. This war becomes
quite incomprehensible to you once you have seen the real thing; no
tactics, no strategy, just men turned moles. I believe in time we
should become sort of Cave-men; our eyes would have developed into
sorts of periscopes, our feet would have become web-footed to help us
to stand up on wet duck boards; there would be a new type of man. As
it is, it is quite haphazard and pointless. Just somebody makes
himself disagreeable when he has nothing better to do. It is so
difficult to hurt anyone actually in trenches; I think a mortar is the
only thing that can do so. With dozens of shells sent over in the last
ten days or so (40 yesterday morning) there has not been a single man
in the brigade wounded by shell fire, and rifles and machine guns are
the same. The casualties occur only in a push when one goes over the
parapet, and that is not war, only a big field day. I was talking to a
sergeant-major who had been through Neuve Chapelle, and said that it
was just like a field day in Salisbury Plain, men marching in fours in
all sorts of formations. His battalion halted after a little, ate its
lunch, and then went on, got a bit too far forward, returned and dug
themselves in, and trenches again. It is a hole and corner affair. We
were all very cheered yesterday morning by the official news of the
French successes at Verdun, and we all got obstreperous and terrorised
poor Fritz. The men say they infinitely prefer the front line trenches
to training at home. They have more comfortable sleeping
accommodation, better food and less work. I like it better myself.
Then what seems funny is to come out of the trenches and to be in
perfect safety two and three miles back. I went on a course to-day;
demonstration in mortars.
We are billeted in a topping farm, and I have a huge great room with a
big bed and a fire. They are nice clean people in the farm. The men
have a loft, and use of kitchen for sitting in. We are within
shelling distance, but the people in the farm have been living in the
farm, carrying-on their ordinary work, without the young men right
through everything, and the farm is absolutely undamaged. Well, I must
go to bed, little Mother. Did you receive my letters asking May to get
me gramophone catalogues of Decca and Master's Voice gramophones as
soon as possible? Parcel received. Slacks, shoes, candle, biscuits,
&c., very welcome indeed. Stir Ellen up to make another cake, larger;
I will write to her. Also can you send me Mars oil for boots.
Much love to all,
From your loving Son,
ALEC.
A/101 TRENCH MORTAR BATTERY,
101ST BRIGADE, B.E.F.
March 2nd.