Please note address. Don't put in my battalion, if you like you can
put in O.C. before the name of the battery officer commanding, as a
bit of swank. This letter is a joint one to you and May. Many thanks,
May dear, for the simply topping parcel; it is ripping. Thank you,
Mother mine, also for the letter and the papers. The parcel had been
delayed a little by going to the battalion. The Aunts also sent me a
delightful parcel. I have been having a sort of little private
Christmas on my own, with a letter from Win also, and two free papers
from the King. At least, the Post Office gave us them, free to the
B.E.F. Consequently, I am very pleased to-night. I don't want my gum
boots, nor my Burberry, British warm or rug, as you know I have my
Thresher and Glenny and a fleece lining, also a fur coat, a mackintosh
cape, and a pair of thigh gum boots, all the last three presents from
the King, or rather from Father as a taxpayer. Please thank Father
very much for them. Also for the guns, which were bought out of the
taxes he pays. Several people have asked me where to get candles like
the ones you send me, and I tell them to see that when their father
marries he marries a wife with brains, as that is the only way. Then,
Mother, about the cheque: it is intended to pay for the cigarettes and
my knife, fork and spoon, and such things, I would much rather you
used it, as you are all practising war economy and I am living in
luxury; at least, do please me by buying a new hat with it, or
something as a little gift from me. I know it will not go far towards
a hat, but Father will give you the rest, and then it will be from the
two Alexanders. I am quite rich, I have nearly £30 in the bank, and I
am intending to be absolutely extravagant and buy a gramophone, and
even then I shall have a nice balance. I don't spend nearly all my
pay, and I am sure I don't earn my pay, because already I have
introduced economic reforms in Germany by cutting down the personnel
of their Army, and so saving them expense.
I wish I had seen Norman Smith in St. Omer. At present in billets we
are doing little: we draw our rations and eat them, go for our letters
and read them, get new clothes and wear them, take rations up to the
dump for those in the trenches, and then go to bed. To-morrow is a
red-letter day. We are going to have a bath. I am getting quite good
at having a bath in a tin hand-basin, but to-morrow I shall soak in a
great vat, which was once used for washing clothes. You will be glad
to hear that we have had no single case in the brigade yet of a man
sharing his clothes with anything else of the type in the dog's diary:
"Bad attack of eczema, caught one."
The rats in the trenches are delightful animals, about as large as an
overgrown horse, but you get quite friendly towards them in a little
while; after all, I suppose they are fighting for their country like
some of us. I expect the papers in ratland are like ours: "In the
western hole there is nothing to report, the situation was normal, in
Rotten Row Alley gnawing was heard, and it is thought that the enemy
are sapping towards us." Then they have articles about the bad
conditions of their trenches, and write home to say that the human
vermin simply swarm there, and are swollen to a huge size and have all
become furry.
Much love to all,
From your loving Son,
ALEC.
P.S.--We had an official message sent by the French line brigade to
say that the French had won back all ground lost at Verdun and taken
thousands of prisoners.
A/101 TRENCH MORTAR BATTERY,
101ST BRIGADE, B.E.F.
Monday.