Raymond; or, Life and Death. Sir Oliver Lodge
Thomas and I do, the Captain and Case have moved down and sleep on large fat palliasses in the dining-room! We have the rest of the house empty to ourselves to-night, but various headquarter staffs seem to come in turn and occupy two of the other ground floor rooms occasionally.
"We have been out two nights digging on the opposite side of the town, but we have not been ordered out to-night, so far.
"I notice I have now been gazetted back to 15 August, the same as most of my contemporaries.
"There has been a suggestion made that I should take a course of machine-gun instruction in order that I might act as understudy to our present Machine-Gun Officer (M.G.O.) who is Roscoe, and is the successor to Wyatt. I agreed, but it may have 'fallen through' owing to the move. If it comes off I shall go for a fortnight's course to a place which I will call No. 3 [probably St. Omer.]
"I got a letter from you to-day about 5 p.m. I was so glad.
"No, I am not making things out better than they really are. I like to write mostly about the pleasant parts, of course. We have our unpleasant moments, shelling and so on, but no very bad times as yet. Being on tenterhooks is quite the worst part.
"As regards Fletcher being worse than us, of course he came out much earlier. He left Edinburgh for the Front on 4 January, and Laws left on 31 December. He has had some awful times and the winter campaign, and in any case the length of time one is exposed to the mental strain and worry makes a difference. I do my best to keep cheerful and happy all the time—I don't believe in meeting trouble half-way. If there was some indication of the termination of the war it would help matters—the unending vista is apt to be rather disheartening at times. I am very glad Italy is in—at last.
"By the way, Fletcher has not been sent to England (Blighty) after all. He is at Versailles, in the No. 4 General Hospital there, having a nice time if he can enjoy it. This hospital is the Trianon Palace. The Captain had a letter from him in which he sent his love to 'Maurice' and 'his lordship' (that's Thomas)."
"2 June 1915, 4.45 p.m.
"Our interpreter is a Belgian, and is a very nice man. He does our shopping for us in the town, which is ten miles or so away, and (as now arranged) he makes the journey twice a week. It is very funny to hear him talk, he picks up the soldiers' idioms and uses them in the wrong places. One he is very fond of is the expression 'Every time'! He puts such a funny emphasis on it.
"The last member of our Mess is a man who has just come out and has not long had his commission. He used to be Regimental Sergeant-Major to our 1st Battalion and has had about twenty-six years' service, so he knows his job.
"Unfortunately, however, his arrival is not an unmixed blessing. The Captain is seized with enthusiasm and wants to make our Company the finest Company in the Battalion. The result is that we have now nothing but parades and much less rest than before. When we were turned into a pioneer battalion the Colonel told the men that they would go digging at night and would do nothing else except for rifle inspection. Now, however, we have in addition an hour's drill of various sorts in the morning and a lecture to N.C.O.s in the afternoon, at which all subalterns have to attend and take notes. On the day following a rest night we have to be up about seven o'clock, and be on parade while the men do half an hour's physical exercise before breakfast. Then we have an hour and a half's drill afterwards and the lecture. And these parades seem to be growing. I am afraid they will wear us all out and the men as well. Thomas feels it most and is very worried—although he is Senior Subaltern in the Company he is left right out of things. I am afraid of his going like Laws and Fletcher did. Some 'rankers' are very good fellows. They bring tremendous experience with them, but, on the other hand, we bring something too, and when they ride the high horse they can be very unbearable. …
"I got a supply of paraffin to-day; D Company has bought a huge barrel of it, and I sent over a petrol tin for some. They gave me nearly two gallons and asked if I could let them have a window in exchange! I hunted round and found quite a good loose one and sent it across with my compliments. The reason they have bought up so much paraffin is because their Captain has presented pocket Primuses to his men. Each section of twelve men has one between them with one man in charge of it. It is a killing sight to see their Company sitting in a field and drumming up!
"The Belgian cooking stove is rather a curious thing. It is of the same design in every house apparently. It consists of a metal urn to hold the fire; this has a removable lid for which you can substitute a kettle or pan which just fits the round opening. The urn stands about 3 feet from the wall and has a flat-shaped iron chimney leading into the main chimney. This iron chimney can be used for heating pots or for warming plates. The base of the urn is an ash collector. You will see that there is no oven; this is built separately and is a brick affair with a separate fire to it. [Sketch.]"
"Thursday, 3 June 1915, 1.30 p.m.
"I am all right again to-day; you mustn't pay any attention to my grumbles, it just depends what I feel like; and I am going to stir things up about these parades. We had a fine time last night—very exciting. We went through the heart of the city and it is still very much on fire. The enemy keeps sending an occasional shell into it to keep it going. Just on the far side is a graveyard, and this has been 'crumped' out of existence nearly! It is an unpleasant place to pass now.
"The town is almost unbelievable. I don't think anyone would credit that they could do so much damage and not leave a single house untouched, without entering the place at all. [Ypres again, probably.]
"Our digging last night was near a small road much used by transport (which is very audible at night). As the enemy can hear the rumble of the horse-drawn carts quite plainly, they kept on sending shrapnel over, and we had quite a warm time of it. We were quite glad to get away again. (No one was hit while we were there.)
"I was very interested in father's pamphlet on 'War and Christianity,' and I have passed it on to the others. I like the way he gets right outside and looks at things from above. It is a very soothing thing to read.[4] …
"I had such an interesting talk with the interpreter yesterday (his rank is the equivalent of one of our Sergeant-Majors). He was a merchant in Morocco, and chucked up everything and came and joined the Belgian army as a private. He fought at Namur, Antwerp, and other places, and is most awfully keen. He was offered the job of Interpreter to the British Army, and, thinking he could help more by that means and also partly for monetary considerations, he took the job. He understood he would be fighting with us in the trenches, but they have put him on to shopping for us! He is awfully disappointed. He rides up when he can, and when we went up to Hill 60 he went up with our transports and showed them the way and helped them a lot, although shells were falling all round. He is a most gentlemanly man; his name is Polchet. …
"I had a letter from Violet and another from Margaret yesterday. I understand they have gone up to Edinburgh now; I shall like to go up there too 'after the war.' I believe Violet is getting my room ready for me in their house. I like everything very plain, just a valise and a little hay, and then you see if I am hungry in the night——. …
"P.S.—I had a most interesting letter from Oliver. His discussion of Italy's motives is fine. I like hearing what people think of events; we are apt to get very warped views out here unless we have the other point of view occasionally."
"Sunday, 6 June 1915, 12 p.m.
"The Mess was thrown into the greatest state of excitement yesterday by the arrival of kippers! How splendid!
We had a grand breakfast this morning, quite like the summer holidays again—breakfast after a bathe—with Alec of course! …
"By the way, I did not present the last lot of asparagus to the Mess—this was not because we didn't appreciate it, but because I felt so sorry for M. Polchet (our interpreter), and I wondered if he had any green stuff or luxuries. So I sent it over to him. And do you know what he has done? He has just sent me a shallow wooden box with a thick cotton-wool pad in it. In