Letters have just arrived. How sad that the men cannot have them.
We call the names out, but there is no answer. They perhaps know in
heaven. Old England, when she hears about the battle, will be proud of
us. The Germans were ten to one, and we outfought them. I have lost
nearly all my best chums, and have seen some terrible sights. My pack
was blown from my back, my cap was taken away, and a bullet or shell
stripped my trousers from my thigh to the knee. Our colonel and nearly
all the officers are gone. One chap in my company, only eighteen and
a half years, had both legs blown away. The sergeant you shook hands
with, ----, has gone: _Sergt. Roberts, Loyal Lancashires_.
Fired!
One night we spent in a pretty old village, where the people were very
hospitable. They made some of us a bed on a cottage floor, and gave us
food. Said good-bye and left about 5 A.M. A few hours later we looked
back and saw the flames of the place mounting to the sky. Fired by
the enemy, was the fate of that village and many more for giving our
troops shelter for a night. Have seen thousands of refugees on the
roads flying from the enemy, carrying all their worldly possessions on
their backs. One sees many sad sights of this nature. Women tramping
wearily along, sobbing with terror at the booming of the great guns and
the distant glare of blazing homesteads. We have also seen hundreds of
German prisoners, mostly looking “fed up.” Tried to have a chat with
one the other morning, but owing to our respective knowledge of English
and German being limited, conversation was ditto. Have just been told
it’s Sunday to-day. Had quite lost count, as all days seem much alike:
_Corpl. F. W. Street, R.E._
One Taken!
With Tom Caisley on one side and Joe Fair on the other I was hopping
along, with the shells bursting all around us. My strength was going,
when I turned to Tom and said, “I’m beat, Tom,” but he answered, “Stick
it, son.” I shall never forget his words, and I did “stick it,” till he
saw two fellows with a stretcher and called them over. I was put on the
stretcher and shook hands with Tom and Joe, wishing them good-bye. Then
they went back to the firing line, and I was taken to a cave, where I
had my leg dressed; the bullet had gone right through the thigh. I had
only been in this place about half an hour when a chap called Nicholson
was brought in wounded, and I asked him if Tom and Joe were all
right. He gave me a shock when he said Joe Fair had been killed while
assisting him. I must confess that I cried, for Joe had been chums with
Tom and me for years: _Private Thomas Elliott_.