At 4pm the battalion marched via Lindenhoek to relieve the Easy Surreys in their trenches. The 14th Brigade diary records this taking place from 8pm. The going was very slow. It had started to rain during the day and thaw out the ice. This made the ground both slippery and muddy. The trenches were very close together at this point and rifle fire kept heads down.
Some of the Dorsets were assigned to a fatigue party to collect brushwood with which to line the trenches (with boards placed on top) and prevent men’s feet from becoming wet and frozen. Thus it reached midnight and still the Dorsets hadn’t relieved the East Surreys.
Their destination was Point 75, 1 mile south west of Wytschaete. This village became anglicised by British troops as Whitesheet. It’s also the first village I read about when I started researching Frank ages ago. I still can’t pronounce it.
The Telegraph today has an interesting report about the Gurkhas which regurgitates a similar story to the one Frank wrote in his letter home on the 16th November. This runs contrary to Gleichen’s story from the 30th October.
The first story about the Gurkhas was that they had come to an end of their ammunition and were fighting with the bayonet, but were driven back by superior numbers. But it turned out later that they lost very heavily from shell fire, and, the trenches being too deep for the little men, they could produce no effect with their rifles, and could see nothing.
In other news my incredibly talented Brother-in-Law and brand new daddy, Aled Lewis, has released this brilliant limited edition poster for his upcoming art show based around British comedy. He’s thrown the Kitchener’s sink at it.
It’s so good it’s worth selling your Speckled Jim for.
Envelope date stamped 18 No 14 addressed to Miss Crawshaw, 29 Strathleven Road, in pencil as usual – letter inside dated 15.11.14
Dear Till
Many thanks for you welcome and interesting [and interesting repeated and crossed out] (excuse the double tap, for the Bhoys and having a joke and of course I am listening to them at the same time as writing to you) letter. I was pleased to hear from you, for I look forward to your letters every day. Well I was beginning to wonder when you was going to send the parcel, for you had mentioned it so often in your letters, although I knew you would send it sooner or later.
I have wrote to Tom sent him a PC yesterday. So Wallie as got a uniform and he is alright, I bet he fancies his luck. Have heard from Jess she is getting on alright, no the suit wasen’t for that but if this hadn’t have turned out, I expect it would have been the case sooner or later. Yes I expect the Lord Mayor’s Show was different to other years it was I believe a military affair so you couldn’t black your nose and see it, hard lines on (a?) Wartie (?), never mind better luck next year.
Yes I could just go some fried spuds nearly forgot what they are like roll on a long time. No I haven’t received those Cigarettes yet from him, what’s happened to him. Glad to hear that you are all in the pink at home and that Aunt is still patching up her Tatts (Totts?), remember me to Tango, give her my best regards and also to old Uncle. Tell her to look sharp and write for tell Aunt I have been expecting to hear from her and Uncle Matt.
Well Till we are having it perishing cold out here especially at night in the trenches it snowed for a while yesterday, so you can guess what it’s like out here. We are still making good progress although they are putting over shells as fast as they can and the villages and towns are on fire so you can guess what it is like, we have been mixed up with the London Scottish so you can guess where we are, that’s if you read the paper and see where they have been. There is a lot of Indian Troops out here and the Gurkhas are the Bhoys for they get mad at them and the Germans shake when they see the darkies with their knives in their hands coming after them they have no fear in them when they start.
You know I mentioned to you that I went to a wedding in Belfast, well I have had a letter from her to say that he is missing and that she has not heard from him she asked me if I could tell her anythink, I have wrote and told her all I know. You see Till it is like this when a big battle starts and our fellows get wounded by bullets or a bit of shell they are sometimes unable to move unless helped, and it is impossible to get to them and so there they have to stop until it gets dark or else you would very likely get hit yourself and when they are got some are in a terrible state and others are missing very likely captured by the enemy so you see how it is. The place is full of spies and one has to be very careful what you do and say, for they even get women to go round to find out things and your positions, so you can guess what it is like. One of our fellows has been awarded the French Legion of Honour and the day it got read out he got killed worse luck.
I am getting on alright up to yet but have got a nasty cold in the kidneys but thats only half ones (mes?) luck. I have not heard from Tom yet but hope to before long, Don’t forget to tell Muff to drop a few lines and ask her about the cake what she is going to send. Now I think this is all the news this time, for I am just going to have a bit of Tommie, trusting this letter finds you merry and bright and hope to hear from you soon
I remain
Your loving Brother
Frank
xxxx
You wait all month for a letter and three turn up at once.
This is one of Frank’s chattiest letters yet. There’s a lovely burst of life in the opening paragraph where Frank is distracted by some nearby banter and writes interesting twice. The phrase “double tap”, used to denote a crossing out, is a strange one. Could it mean firing a gun twice? I can’t find out any other uses of the phrase, other than drumming and shooting.
Wallie, whom I am assuming is Frank’s cousin Walter Matthew Coulson Webster, was only 14 at this time so I am assuming he signed up for the reserves. He didn’t enter active service until his 18th birthday in 1918 when the war was nearly over. If Wallie isn’t Walter then is he connected to Tom somehow?
Mabel has asked about whether Frank’s suit is for a wedding. He responds quite philosophically about his situation and reveals that he was serious about this relationship and that marriage was the next step. I am more keen than ever to find out what happened to Jessica.
The Lord Mayor’s Show was, indeed, a military affair in 1914. You can watch the show on YouTube and I’ve embedded the first part below. I am not sure what Frank means by “couldn’t black your nose and see it”. Perhaps he thought that women weren’t allowed? Does “black your nose” mean camouflage yourself? You can clearly see men, women and children in the footage. The cryptic “Wartie” could possible be “wartime”. Again, I don’t have the original letters so it’s impossible to see if this is a transcription error.
Those fried spuds sounded so lovely that I had some for my tea. I imagine poor old Frank’s diet has been pretty poor – he must be desperate for a decent meal. I think we can finally agree that Caroline Webster is indeed Tango. The whole paragraph is about her and Uncle Matt. Quite what she’s doing with potatoes in November is beyond me. Perhaps she’s preparing the patch for next year?
More about the letter tomorrow.
The Dorsets enjoyed a fairly quiet day engaged various activities around Hill 63. Major Fraser, the man next in line to command the Dorsets was away acting as the Brigade Transport Officer; although which brigade exactly isn’t immediately clear. I’m assuming the 11th Brigade. So Captain Harold Sutton Williams, a native New Zealander and hero of the Dorsets’ rearguard at Mons, stepped into the breach as CO for the time being. At 9.32pm 11th Brigade was informed by 4th Division HQ that the Dorsets were to be held in readiness to return to 5th Division at Bailleul.