'Wednesday, June 16, 1915, 1.30 p.m.
'We made an attack early this morning, and our Company waited here to receive the prisoners. Poor devils, I do feel so sorry for them. One officer of sixteen, with six weeks' service. Old men with grey beards, too, and many of the student type with spectacles —not fit to have to fight.
'You remember "Very Pressing are the Germans"; well,that's where I am, right inside the walls. Quite shell-proof, but very dank.
'I have got the machine-gun job, and am going for a fortnight's course, starting on the 26th of June.'
'Monday June 21, 1915, 4.30 p.m.
'We have had an extremely trying time lately, and I am very sorry to say we have lost Thomas.
'He was hit on the head by shrapnel on the night after the attack —I expect you saw the account in the papers— and died about an hour later, having never recovered consciousness.
'It was a most fatal night —the whole battalion was ordered out digging to consolidate the captured positions. We got half-way out, and then got stuck —the road being blocked by parties of wounded. We waited on a path alongside a hedge for over an hour, and though we could not be seen we had a good deal of shrapnel sent over us. To make matters worse, they put some gas shells near, and we had to wear our helmets though the gas was not very strong. It was exceedingly unpleasant, and we could hardly see at all. It was while we were waiting like this that Thomas got knocked out.
'We were all sorry to lose him, and I miss him very much, but it is nothing to the trouble there will be at his home, for he is his mother's favourite son.
'The next night we went out again, and we had a very quiet night and no casualties. The scene of the battle was pretty bad, and I put all my spare men on to burying.
'Altogether we are very thankful to have a change from "pioneering", and get back to the trenches!
'Our chief trouble here is snipers. We are in a wood, and parties going for water and so on to our headquarters will walk outside the trench instead of in it, just because the trench goes like this. [A diagram is omitted.] They take the straight course along the side in spite of repeated warnings. There is one point that a sniper has got marked. He gets our men coming back as they get into the trench just too late. We had a man hit this morning, but not badly, and a few minutes ago I had to stop this letter and go to a man of B Company who had got hit, rather more seriously, at the same spot. I have put up a large notice there now, and hope it will prevent any more.
'I am sorry this is not a very cheerful letter, but we have all been rather sad lately. I am getting over it now. Luckily one absorbs these things very gradually; I could not realize it at first. It was an awful blow, because, especially since Fletcher went away (he is now at home), we had become very friendly, and one is apt to forget that there is always the chance of losing a friend suddenly. As a matter of fact, Thomas is the first officer of C Company that has been killed for seven months.
'When we were up in this wood before, digging (about a fortnight ago) B Company lost Captain Salter. I dare say you saw his name in the Roll of Honour. We were just going to collect our spades and come in, when he was shot through the head by a stray bullet.
'What a very melancholy strain I am writing in, I am so sorry. I am quite well and fit. We have mislaid our mess-box coming up here with all our specially selected foods. The result is we are on short commons —great fun. I am eating awful messes and enjoying them. Fried bacon and fried cheese together! Awful; but, by Jove, when you're hungry.'
