Irish Voices from the First World War a blog based on PRONI sources

Photograph of Major Terence Duffin [D2109/20/1].

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October and

Photograph taken in , during the of the Ancre Heights [D1421/F/4/D/4,]

The continued to rage throughout October and November with action taking place at Ancre Heights from 1 October until 11 November and Le Transloy from 1-18 October. Nugent and the 36th Division have relocated to northern to St Jans Cappel and are holding the line and carrying out raids. At the same time, the Division is facing an uncertain future with the prospect of either being amalgamated or having to recruit from the UK. Following the in September, the 16th Division has also moved north.

Document 1- Stephen Gwynn, an Irish Parliamentary Party MP, serving as a Captain with the 6 to his cousin, Amelia on 20 November 1916 [D2912/1/18]

My dear Cousin Amelia I head much when I was at home of your kindness and was very sorry not to have been at home when you were there. Now, I have just got this magnificent parcel with all sorts of things to eat & wear. I – or we, rather – have started on the former and the others

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will be a present[?] help in the cold. We had very bitter frost during four[?] days of this present line of trenches but now it is warm. This part of the line is absurdly safe and I as[?] commanding a company hardly ever see a shell burst within a hundred yards of me. That is the advantage of having had it rather rough in the spring. The men are splendid but the battalion was rather disappointed[?] by[?] the complete change of officers. I followed it back on the Somme & they are glad to see any of their former officers coming back. We are close neighbours of the Ulster division & get on admirably[?]. I dined at their General Headquarters the other night & made great friends with Col. Sanderson’s[?] son – I hope that comradeships may establish themselves which will be of use in some day – my brother[?] Charlie is also near here & I look forward to meeting him this week. He is one of the Greater Gods in this way of life & I shall salute deferentially. – My son Denis has just got his commission in the Munsters & will shape up[?] in the same brigade with me before very long. Lucius is now either at the Cape or near it on his way to Gurthalia[?]. It is a great event & wonderful blessing. Thanking you once more I am Your[?] faithful Stephen Gwynn

Document 2: Letters from Captain William Montgomery commanding A Company, 9th Battalion, Royal Irish Rifles, with the 36th (Ulster) Division in France, to his mother on 13th October 1916 [D2794/1/1/15]

My Dear Mother,

Very many thanks for yours of 30th ult(imo) written from Portrush. Also for your parcels of homebaked bread. You should just see how it disappears. Awful it is.

I am writing to you on this Sunday notepaper because I think perhaps you will like to receive a letter from a real live Battalion Commander who at the same time happens to be a quite near relation of your own. It is very temporary of course being only for 5 days in all, but they are 5 days in the trenches & it hasn’t happened accidentally, as the real C.O. knew of it when he went on leave himself & discussed it with the Higher Powers that be & they didn’t object.

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It is an extraordinary condition of affairs though when one thinks of it. Just imagine the thoughts & expressions of one of the real old regular Field Officers if they come to hear of such rank madness. Why! they wouldn’t even trust me to command one of their companies on a Barrack Square under close supervision, much less fight a Battalion in the line. And yet a lot of imitation soldiers like me are doing a heap more responsible work than I am & a lot of pukka regulars are either at home or taking orders from them. I have been much grieved to hear of Matt’s condition.

If he is still alive please tell him I think of him here often. If he is to go we shall all miss him badly in the office. Still you know he dies quite comfortably with his boots off & plenty of warning. Our fellows don’t do that here. One is very apt to get callous I fear. I

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passed a couple of men this morning pushing a truck. As I approached of course the truck stopped & the men came to attention and saluted. (All very proper as it should be) I giving my usual well known imitations of dignity (Maynard Sinclair can describe it, but perhaps not to you) returned the salute & passed on. I did not know or hadn’t noticed what was on the truck until an officer who had been walking with me rejoined me & said, ‘They were men of ___’ I said who were? And he replied – those on the truck. It appears there were 4 of them. At least the parson buried 4 this afternoon.

I suppose it really is a dreadful state to get into but honestly I almost touched that truck in passing and never noticed its load.

I have just passed mu Battalion Orders for issue. Very nice it looked too, neatly typed at the top of a sheet of foolscap :-

Battalion Orders

By

CAPT. W.A. MONTGOMERY D.S.O

Comdg. 9th Battalion Royal Irish Rifles

Funnily enough, the men love these decorations & are most careful that everyone knows there officers possess them. They get most annoyed if they see a personal letter coming to me for insistence if it is improperly addressed! My present servant was in a fearful state a few days ago, I understand, because a box I had made for me did not have the letters after my name. He told the men who brought it that it was of no use to him like that – to take it back and finish it. Men are children, only more so. He has bought some white paint, I hear, with a view to some decorating on that box on his own account. He will do it too although I have expressly forbidden him to. He simply can’t bear the sight of it as it is. And it is most extraordinary how a good servant regards one’s odds & ends of things. They really regard them as their own personal property. My feelings in the matter are quite secondary. Any good servant is or ought to be frightfully hurt if his officer dares to know where to find any of his own things. He looks upon it as a personal insult of the blackest shade for worse than if one cast hateful aspersions on his

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immediate ancestry. This red headed Judas I have now for instance, has put on the most frightful side since we came to Battalion H.Q.

I didn’t see him myself but when I arrived at my own Coy. H.Q. this morning, they told me that my servant (Russell) had been looking for me, dressed up as an H.Q. orderly, if you please. I hadn’t told him to come there at all, much less turn himself into an orderly but there you have it. He deliberately went up to the front line from his quite safe & quiet place simply to talk down to his own pals. He took damned good care I didn’t see him through.

In some respects, mother mine, we are worse than women. Seniority in a company mess of servants is much more strictly observed than even by the officers. The Coy. Commander’s servant for instance is a very important person indeed. He doesn’t even need to go on working parties. And woe betide the silly young Coy. Sergeant Major who tries to cross him in any way. He usually finds himself in hot water very soon. The servant quite casually lets him down or gives him away in some way or other. Taking them all in though they are more fun than yours & of course at least 90% would always die for their officers. And some of the things they do. Ye Gods! The awful things they do with food, clothes & kit all for the best. I would die of boredom if they didn’t keep on doing them too. This one I have now, for instance, is almost too good a thief. He uses no discrimination at all. It is a disease with him.

He has also a mistaken idea that he is a bomb & explosives expert. I was awakened this morning by a hammering noise and there he was with a knife…busily engaged in hammering & prizing off the end of a German grenade in order to get at the explosive (T.N.T.). When he got it out he started digging at it with a large spike thing he had & then capsized it out on a piece of a board on which he had laid his lighted cigarette butt. (We both smoke the same cigarettes by the way). He moved the lighted cigarette a little to one side & said quite calmly –It’s very like brown sugar, Sir, soft and wet. As I had more than a shrewd suspicion that he was doing all this either to get me up quickly or to try out my nerve or both, & as I happen to know almost as much as he thinks he does about this particular explosive. I went one up on him by telling him to throw his blasted brown sugar on the fire & get me some hot shaving water.

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This was something he didn’t know about & it shook him up a bit but he quickly discovered that if he did what he was told & there was anything wrong about it I would go west too. So he just did it. If you happen to meet any person looking for a brand new definition of faith you may tell him of this one. It is quite true that he didn’t know the stuff makes a grand firelighter & he does know what it makes if it is suitably detonated, & because I told him to do it, he did it. In any case I think even if it had been detonated & he knew it & I knew it & told him to put it in the fire, rather than be caught trying it on me he would still do it. You will understand this. So do I & that is just why this artist is my servant now.

Well it is quite time I closed now. I am not very busy, but I am sleepy & in this life one is unwise to miss sleep when the mood & the opportunity synchronize, (quite neat that, isn’t it?) I am getting quite literary. I think I will write a book or something someday. Does one write the book first & choose the title after or does one start with the title and write about it? You will gather that the truly appalling responsibility of this Battalion Commanding business doesn’t worry me much – no not as much as trying to settle one little fire loss with R.N. Kennedy used to do. This is perfectly true. It is also very interesting & becomes more so the longer it is considered. It is in me somewhere I fear. But where it came from I don’t know. I wouldn’t be a soldier in peace however for a considerable consideration –no – not even if I could afford it. I don’t think there ever will be much trouble getting in if ever there is another war in this generation.

This one ought to satisfy this generation though. I am only writing drivel, so I think I will really stop. All my love to you both. Please write me & also ask the Governor to try and drop me a little note sometime soon & tell me about his salvage operations.

You might tell Miss McDermott that I was delighted with her tale – entitled – ‘Caruth & St. Anthony’. I wrote her today but I forgot this. Her ‘Memoirs of Foley’ also showed signs of power as a descriptive writer. She taken unlimited trouble to send me things & give me office news. I am really stopping now. Goodnight. (This word can be rather more than a mere form here.)

Your quite irresponsible but loving son,

William.

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Document 3: Letter from Oliver Nugent to his wife, October 12th 1916 [D3835/E/2/11/15]

Dearest,

I hope all goes well. I’ve had 3 raids last night, 1 failed to get in as the Boches were too much on the alert, the others got in, in one the Germans bolted and they got some of them but the other raiding party killed 30 Germans and brought back some prisoners.

The German trenches in front of my Division are pretty well knocked about. We are always hammering them with artillery and mortars and I think the Boche is having a pretty rotten time here. I don’t know what is the matter with him, he hardly retaliates at all. I don’t think it is like him and I fully expect he will do something horrible as soon as he has a little spare time.

He is pretty busy in various places just now. I am very depressed all the same. I see very little chance of getting any men and in consequence of being shorthanded the men are overworked and overtired and there is a lot of sickness.

Every other Division almost has been back to the Somme some 3 times but we are sidetracked and forgotten. It is very disheartening.

I heard from Congreve the other day. I wrote to give him my sympathy and I told him of the story you told me of Mrs Congreve and the tree climbing. He was interested and told me he had sent my letters on to her. I hope they are a little nearer to each other than they have been for years I am afraid.

We had a good many casualties last night I am sorry to say but they are more or less inevitable. Unfortunately they were mostly caused by our own artillery which for some unaccountable reason were short.

It is a howling autumn gale today and I am very glad I am not crossing the channel. There will be increased submarine activity after the high wind f the last 3 or 4 days. There always is after a gale.

I am still writing to Rubens Hotel. Don’t forget to let me know any change of address in good time. Love to St. G. I hope he is felling comfortable.

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Ever my dearest

Your O.

Document 3: Letter from Oliver Nugent to his wife, October 15th 1916. [D3835/E/2/11/17]

‘…It is getting very cold. The Boches gave us another heavy bombardment yesterday and knocked us about considerably. It is very inconvenient as it entails so much work on us. It was all right while we were knocking him about but the dirty worm has turned and I shall have to hammer him again considerably.

Somerset and I went to lunch with Colin McKenzie who commands a Division near here. He has got Singleton now who was promoted to a higher staff appointment out of this Division.

The question of the future of this and other Irish Divisions is coming ever a crisis. I don’t know what the picture will be but as all Irish Divisions are dying out here something will have to be done, soon. I may be coming home one day, this Division having been absorbed by some other Division. How dreadful it would be to have me as a half hay General filling up the bungalow. They might perhaps give me another Division, but on the other hand they mightn’t.

Our miserable little country. If only they would govern it how happy we might all be….I am sick of Irish problems or of hearing them. I would like to drown or shoot all politicians or anyhow get them out here into the trenches.

Document 4: Oliver Nugent letter to his wife, October 18th 1916. [D3835/E/2/11/19]

Dearest,

Pouring wet and muggy, mist and fog, a nasty sort of day. I have not been out anywhere except for an hour’s constitutional around the garden. I was going to this evening to inspect my school but it is so wet I did not go.

It does not look to me as if things are going too well on the Somme. Reading between the lines, I can see that the Germans have got a great increase of artillery and I think we have tried & failed the last few days.

The conditions down there are getting very bad. The whole country behind us now is a mass of shell holes and old trenches, all the roads have been smashed up, all villages destroyed. The men have no shelter from the weather and it is very hard to get up supplies of any kind. The Germans are a stupendous military people. Nowhere at present on the whole front from the round by the Balkans and through to the Baltic are the Allies making any progress. It is a marvelous performance. Unless

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we get a spell of fine weather I doubt if we can keep the offensive going for much longer this year. It is impossible to move once the ground gets thoroughly waterlogged and impossible to keep sufficient supplies at the front…

Document 5: Oliver Nugent letter to his wife, October 22nd 1916 [D3835/E/2/11/23]

Dearest,

It remains very bitter. Our poor men on the Somme up to their knees in mud, no blankets or fur coats must be feeling it terribly, but the progress on the 21st was quite satisfactory and now I hope we may see something in the way of a really marked advance in a few days. I have not been out today. Too cold and I felt lazy and anyhow had a lot to do indoors.

Some of the letters we pick up form German prisoners or dead and their diaries reveal their frame of mind. They whine like no Englishman would do. Anyhow it seems quite clear they are having a really awful time. Nothing could be more pleasing. They are now suffering in I hope greater measure what we went through in the early days of the war. The Boche plucked up courage to an overall extent yesterday, at least one of his airmen did and he flew over and attacked one of our observation balloons in their area. Unfortunately he made too good a shot at it and it caught fire and came down flaming. I hope the observers were able to get out before the balloon came down on top of them. It did not seem to fall very quickly. The German prisoners who are working near here all yelled for joy but I suppose one can’t blame them….

Document 6: Oliver Nugent letter to his wife, October 25th 1916 [D3835/E/2/11/24]

…I had a weary tramp through deep mud all morning going around horse lines of my artillery. I wonder if Nationalists and Unionists could agree to give Home Rule a joint trial for say even five years if the Nationalists would pledge Ireland to accept Compulsory Service. If they could do so, I would gladly see the Compact but I have no doubt if I said so in Ireland the various loyal committees would go into violent hysterics and call me a traitor.

How I do hate all politicians. Somerset out here continually asserts that he loathes politics whereas it is the breath of his nostrils and if he is not abusing someone of the Liberal or Nationalist parties, he would feel he had failed in his duty. These Ulstermen have an extraordinary narrow outlook….

Document 7: Oliver Nugent letter to his wife, October 27th 1916 [D3835/E/2/11/25]

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…These wretched Roumanians are going to be worse than enemies. They don’t seem able to fight at all. The Russians will have to do it all and it really hampers them to have Roumania as an ally. How Tino(?) must be chuckling. Who can blame him for having no confidence in the Allies’ chances.

I know from Somerset who had been to see Derby who said there was no apparent likelihood of compulsory service being introduced into Ireland. The Irish Divisions would probably be shortly reconstituted as English Divisions and Irish titles dropped and the battalions would be amalgamated 2 or 3 units into 1 and English battalions added to make up the balance. I don’t care which way it goes so long as they give us men.

The govt. as usual I suppose will put the responsibility of insisting upon Ireland doing her duty.

Document 8: Oliver Nugent letter to his wife, October 28th 1916 [D3835/E/2/11/26]

Dearest,

Did you notice the Germans have at last tried a raid on the Folkestone – Boulogne boats. The ‘Queen’ which they sank is the ship I first came to France in and in which I came out again with the Division. Glad I wasn’t in her this time. However they seem to have got no one, though they undoubtedly gave as good as they got. Confound them. They are sinking Norwegian ships wholesale. The only reason that I can think of is that they want Norway to declare war on them so that they can use the Norwegian coastline for their submarine activities and prevent ships based from from keeping along the Norwegian coast within the 3 mile limit which is what they now do.

Most of the reports we get from the Somme tend to show that the Germans are becoming very demoralized in what they now do. I am most optimistic but at the same time I see no likelihood of the war ending for at least another 2 years. By that time there will be no men anyhow except very old men and boys.

Document 9: Oliver Nugent letter to his wife, October 29th 1916 [D3835/E/2/11 /27]

‘I hear the Division is to be made up to full strength again by English Batts. As soon as that happens we shall go back to the Somme, I expect.

We ought to go on pressing the Germans as long as we possibly can to prevent them moving men to the East. The weather is terribly against operations and shows no sign of improving.

I heard from Somerset who has been interviewing Derby and Lloyd George. He has a great cheek.’

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Document 10: Oliver Nugent letter to his wife, November 2nd 2016 [D3835/E/2/11/30]

‘This Division has received much commendation for its activity. We were told we were the best Division at Strafing the Boche in the , which is satisfactory and encouraging. We certainly do give them a bad time. I have a weekly bombardment and blow his trenches to pieces and then he has to send up working parties at night and we hear or see them and fire on them with machine guns and rifle grenades and Stokes Mortars and then we send over smoke bombs and he thinks it’s gas and rings alarms all over his front and sits in his home in a gas mask and we constantly raid his trenches and blow up his dugouts. He really has a rotten bad time with us. I examine his trenches often with a periscope and I can see the broken beams & wood of his dugouts sticking up in the air in every direction.’

Document 11: Oliver Nugent letter to his wife. November 11th 1916 [D3835/E/2/11/38]

‘When I did go out I rode over to the spot where Bob is buried and found his grave on the side of the road at a Xroads about 5 or 6 miles from here. Such a curious place to have chosen. There was a house with a garden within a few yards. It is really on the road. It is looked after and was surrounded by a wire netting fence to prevent carts and people from trampling on it. It has a neat wooden cross with his name on it and the grave itself has Arabis and some sort of saxifrage I think growing on it in the form of a cross, also some irises and a primula plant. There was a wreath…with red and white ribbon hanging on the cross. It’s a lonesome place to be buried, though much military traffic is continually passing. I am glad I have seen it and as long as I am here I can keep an eye on it.’

Document 12: Oliver Nugent letter to his wife, November 30th 1916 [D3825/E/2/11/44]

‘I gave the Boche a tremendous doing this afternoon with every sort of artillery that I had. It was the most severe hammering I gave them on this line. Anyhow it will give them a lot of repairs to do.

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We sent a letter from one of the men we took prisoner the other day, over into the German lines yesterday, telling his pals how well treated he was and recommending them not to be alarmed if they got taken prisoner.

He had told us that lots of them would be glad to surrender if they could because of their treatment. We put the letter into a bottle and a man crawled over in the night and threw it into the German trench. I shall be interested to see what effect it will have.’

Document 13: Corporal Julius Wood [D2238/1]

1-19 October 1916, Julius Wood served with the 1/5 Battalion, Kings Liverpool Regiment. He kept a diary of his service on the Western Front which he transcribed into two journals after the war.

Today is a very wet day & yet, rain or fine, warm or cold, the same old routine – in or out of the Trenches – viz that continual alert readiness & preparation for anything which even by chance might be sprung on the men by Jerry is ever kept in sight and prepared against.

From the ‘Daily Wireless’ issued on foolscap sized Drawing-Paper by the Bgde. to Battalions posted up outside Coy. H/Qrs. Keeps us well up in military progress chief amongst which are the constantly recurring accounts of Raids by the B.E.F. in this salient (Ypres). This then accounts for the frequent& sudden 10/15 minutes violent artillery fire that we have noticed or heard on recent nights. The night, more generally tho in the small hours of morning has suddenly, from intense quietness, jumped right into a regular artillery shindig, slowly tho surely followed by Fritz, in response to his S.O.S. signals, joining vigorously in the general dustup. Quietness shortly follows again & the night resumes its death like quietness only broken into by the occasional rat tat tatting of the machine guns.

20th and 21st October 1916

Last night was really very cold & washing this am was really ‘some wash’. These two days have been on the quiet side tho about 10am (21/10/16) there was quite an exciting aeroplane fight for quite 15 minutes with however no definite result. They just desisted as it were as dogs leave undecided a fight between themselves. Each simply, as if mutually agreed upon, returned to his own lines.

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We are all having it very cushy & quiet here in ‘O’ camp & as the Irishman is usually credited with putting it :- ‘ the best part of the day is the night’ when sitting around a coke brazier we exchange yarns, dissect the latest rumour & discuss past sporting events. Religion is never a subject nor are Politics and/or politicians. In fact the ‘stock’ of the latter has fallen very low during the War. War and Wind seemingly do not harmonise. The Army is a great leveler. All of us as it were came from the same home, are fed & dressed alike so it is left to what is in a man that only counts. Men free & stripped of that ‘street anchor’ environment stand out very often surprisingly well whilst others without the supporting aid of their usual environment fall away surprisingly. We hear tonight that we are to go up tomorrow night which news seems to check the flow of conversation ending in us turning in for the night.

9th November 1916 – the following extracts describes Wood’s preparations for, and going, on a period of leave and then his return to the trenches nr. Ypres.

Next morning and well before the sounding of the Bugle of ‘Reveille’ the whole of ‘Campland’ was early astir, washing and shaving in the dark at the ablution Benches. On this cold windswept plateau only troops of the B.E.F. I am sure would think a wash etc imperative on such a cold morning as it proved to be….We shortly afterward lined up & filed into the B’fast huts for the latter meal. Loaves of uncut Bread, cold fatty Ham & mugs of hot, if not overly strong, tea was our portion. Everyone was too excited to really bother what B’fast consisted of for there is always a sort of feeling that the order is on…On such an occasion as the present the very best spirit in the world exists & entire strangers will, unasked, help a man to fix his gear as if the two had been Pals right thro the game. In less than no time we were on parade something like a thousand or more NCOs & men in ranks two deep. Officers evidently putting up elsewhere in the town itself. The morning was still dark (5.45am) and from a high stool a staff R.S.M. in front bellowed out instructions mainly about the penalties attaching to anyone carrying home illegal souvenirs such as Revolvers, Bombs, Field Artillery? Etc. To further emphasize these instructions Staff N.C.Os passed down the lines of impatient men ordering ones here & there to fall out & turn their pack out. In these instances the selected examples evidently were carrying nothing objected to – about the only ones who weren’t. Having been delayed a night in the camp dated Extension Tickets were next issued to all on Parade & then finally the orders to move off in our lines of two deep were issued

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simultaneously & spontaneously the whistling & singing of the latest music hall songs opened up. Men who had croaked & groaned under the weight of their gear in coming up the Hill were as blithesome as the Larks which tenant ‘no man’s land’ when marching down to the Boat. We marched straight aboard exchanging at the Boat’s Gangway our large portion of the Green Leave Warrant for a white Postcard sort of Form upon which one had to fill in their Regt. Number Rank Name & Battalion. Just as we thought our hopes were nearly to be realized the world ‘All Ashore’ was passed down to us packed like Yarmouth Herrings below. ‘All ashore?’ with what failings of disappointment did we comply. ‘Something in the channel’ was our only explanation. The day itself being a fine one. Well there was ‘now’t for it’ but back again to the camp on the skyline – minus the singing. St. Martin’s camp saw us return like the tired Pilgrims of old. What a long long long day that was for hereon our spirits, previous to the disembarking order, were almost childlike in joyous anticipation. No one officially was allowed to leave the cold bleak camp area & I’ll defy anyone to locate a bleaker spot. The Y.M.C.A. & B.E.F. canteen helped to pass the time somewhat but the fingers of the clock were leaden. The general order seemed to affect all ranks viz early ‘down to it’.

10th November 1916

Next morning gain beat Reveille & went thro the ablution & B’fast routine with hearts beating high again. We were formed up as before & the aforementioned Staff R.S.M. from long usage and routine went thro his bellowing the same as if we had just come into Camp, not a comma or a syllable different. Second extention Tickets were issued and again away we started the march down for the Boat. Disappointments in the army are easily forgotten, songs & whistling drowned any thought of further disappointments as the column wended its way once again down the Hill to the Boat to this time successfully embark. & get away.

Life Belts were served out to everybody tho where most of us below were one could hardly raise one’s arms to smoke so tightly jammed were the crowd of us. About 12.30 we could make the outline of Dover Cliffs raising feelings of emotion which only our past experiences could explain. At 1.15pm we tied up alongside & little or no time was lost once one had fought their way up from below – a matter of easily 15 minutes – in making for the handy waiting train. In fact there were two trains, an early one & one about half an hour later, this owing to the numbers the Boat had brought over. In luck’s

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way, if you like, I got aboard the first train. Before the train actually started an old man of the A. V. Corps was so delighted at once again getting safely back to England that he insisted upon buying the whole 13 in our compartment a couple of big meat pies each. The train, as it swiftly travelled up thro southern England to , was cheered in that wholehearted manner peculiar to children whose loyal little hearts no doubt regard every occupant of the train a hero. Hand wavings by old dames from the doors of isolated country cottages tho outwardly not returned were doubly returned in spirit by us.

This continuous welcome made us the more pleased with our own prospects – in fact we had got so unused to being welcomed that some of us were swallowing hard. At 4.50 pm we finally pulled up at Victoria to once again feel we were free men& masters of our comings & goings. On the platform & right directly opposite the train itself were several money changing Booths. At the platform’s exit quite an informal welcome awaited all & sundry. Furthermore innumerable Ladies & Gentlemen, Boy Scouts & Girl Guides were only to anxious to help us in finding or carrying Trains & Platforms, Y.M.C.A.s, Rest Shelters & in fact in every imaginable way were they ready to aid us. For myself I was famished, for not since leaving the Battalion at 8pm on the 7th had I had a really good meal. The first Café I went into could only supply up to 1s/3d worth of grub, according to some new regulation & it took four visits to four different cafes to bring me to a state of satisfying the inner cravings. From there I dropped across a Y.M.C.A. Russell Sq: or Russell something & got fixed up for a ‘Cuticle’ bed. Here under Y.M. arrangements one’s Gear & Rifle could be safely deposited. Best of all Hot Baths & a change of my clothing were available gratis & a kindly spirit withal & hereon made up for all the make believe Baths of the past nearly scrubbing myself raw. After something further to eat on the premises & to fill in the evening went to Music Hall.

The ‘outstanding’ turn was really the upshot of an interruption of an interruption to a sort of one man Gymnastic turn viz an o/seas soldier enquiring, from the body of the pit of the Gymnast ‘Say old sport what’s wrong with the war?’ Eleven thirty pm saw me turn into Bed this latter luxury the first time for over 15 months. What a feeling of contentment ease & safety accompanied one in getting once again getting between sheets. Words really fail to describe fully just how & what I felt.

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19th November 1916

Here, all too soon, had my leave passed & now with that casualness, more apparent than real, I had bid adieu to my home people, they putting up as brave a show as circumstances called for. The closing of the house door upon my departure sort of legally clenched the end of the leave. When next if at all would I again pass thro & home again was the thought uppermost in my mind & coincident with the snapping too of the Front Door. As I made my way by car to the station for the 5.25pm from Lime Street and what had been right thro’ the whole of my leave had been uppermost in m y mind was the very surprising usualness of the streets & city generally. There had seemed as many young fellows about in civilian clothes as before the war. There had seemed as many young fellows in civilian clothes as before the war. They had crowded the various places of entertainment & almost filled the Football Ground. One seemed to see more young & able bodied men out of Khaki than in it. Indespensibles all I take it? If not then all armed with damned good & many reasons explaining their present position. ‘It’s a mug’s war’ as the boys out there used to put it. Well! We hadn’t much to complain, roaring good pay :- 1/- per day all found – unless the shell had been a big’un & one had foolishly & carelessly stopped it.

Already & so soon the ‘going back’ mood was closing around me, heightened if anything by a party of young fellows in loud boisterous tones fixing up to meet for the Saturday’s football match. The war’s truly & alone for the mugs. 9.25 saw me detrain at Euston & again, thanks to the Y.M. people, guides took us in tow and conducted us to a fine shanty where after supper with others we bedded down in fine camp beds & slept the sleep of the troubled.

Please note all the documents used in this blog have been edited for clarity and, in some cases abridged. For more information on the documents and PRONI’s sources relating to the First World War see our Guide to First World War Sources.

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