The contents on this page remain on our website for informational purposes only.
Content on this page will not be reviewed or updated.

FROM THE CONTEMPORARY LOCAL NEWSPAPERS OF NORTH BUCKS (BUCKS STANDARD, NORTH BUCKS TIMES, WOLVERTON EXPRESS)
With today’s internet a wealth of official information is available regarding those who served.
In an age before local radio and television, families often allowed letters to be published in the local press from their loved ones on active service.
However, for their descendants the letters reveal a more personal aspect, graphically describing the experience of the people and providing an insight into their personalities.

NBT 1915 June 1st Tue.

Trooper Frank Clarke, serving with I Troop, A Squadron, Northants. Yeomanry, has sent a letter to his parents at the L.&N.W. Railway Station. Stating that in eight days of heavy fighting three officers and four troopers were lost, and 14 injured, of the fighting at Neuve Chapelle he writes ;

“The shell fire was awful. You would hear a bang and see fellows blown to pieces yards in the air. The groans were terrible. I think everybody taking part in this trembled from head to foot. We lost a lot in the bayonet charge, several regiments losing heavily. Our fellows were ordered to charge. Not a minute was wasted. As soon as one line fell another line took its place. I was cleaning my boots when a shell exploded in my officer’s dug out, the shrapnel bursting all around me. I was hit in the back and head but not injured, and I am pleased to say the officer was uninjured.”

Later he writes;

“The other morning we rode to Ypres at 2 o’clock. We were searching for snipers and had to enter houses. We fixed bayonets and loaded our rifles and entered them. Searched three streets and found two men and two women. They never gave us any trouble. I don’t mind saying I had my bayonet in front of me and my finger on the trigger, and it was me or them. I am proud and pleased to say up to the present I am in the pink, and escaped all injury, but if I come unstuck I shall be proud to die for my King and country. Our infantry are the finest fellows in the world. I was talking to some big fellows out of the Horse Guards the other day: they are only waiting to get amongst them and use the sword. No mercy will be given.”

In a third letter he writes;

“When we went to Ypres the other morning there were hundreds of lovely things in the houses, but not allowed to touch any or we should have been shot for looting. A cavalry division passed us the other day. We heard last night they had been severely cut up. It has been awful around here. Hundreds of stretcher cases. We have not been in the trenches for a decent time, and hope we shall stay out. To see an infantry regiment go in 1,139 and come out 250 makes us think.”


NBT 1915 June 8th Tue.

Pointed comments are made in a letter sent home by Private H. Higgins, regarding those men of military age who have not yet enlisted;

“I came to this country on October 3rd, landing in Belgium somewhere. We had 18 days hard fighting, holding the enemy, who were fighting hard to get through to Calais. I had the parapet blown in on me twice, but was lucky enough to get out unhurt. My own mate was killed in the same trench, but after that came the wet and snow in Flanders and two more hard battles since. I don’t want to say too much, but I think there are chaps in Woburn Sands and round about who are fit to come out here and share in the fighting for our own rights. By the papers we receive I can see what it means; if something is not soon done it will come to conscription, which will affect you all the more for hanging onto mother’s apron strings. So - go to Bedford today and enlist and show you have a man’s heart about you. About two months ago I met a man who had one son in the Royal Navy, one in the Yorkshire Regiment as lance-corporal, and two in the Beds. Regiment, and to show he had a patriot’s heart he had enlisted in the Beds. Regiment. Look at that and consider what your duty is. I think every man under 40 who can handle a rifle should shoulder his duty towards his King and Country.”


NBT 1915 June 8th Tue.

Mr. and Mrs. Day, of Brickhill Road, have received news that after an illness of three months, their son, Private Frederick Herbert Day, of the Australian Naval and Military Expeditionary Force, 1st Battalion, F Company, passed away on April 7th 1915 in Cowra District Hospital, New South Wales, Australia. With his occupation being given as “Labourer,” the cause of death was diabetes and exhaustion. At the outbreak of war he had joined the Australian Expeditionary Force, and in his last letter home wrote;

“There were three companies of us set sail, and we landed at a place called Herbertshohe one Friday. We marched to the wireless station called Caber Cal. Our officers thought there would be little or no resistance, but they received a shock, as they were ready for us, and gave us a warm time; it was a good thing that they were such bad shots, or there would not have been many of us left to tell the tale. They surrendered, and that was one to us, for we had captured the best wireless station in the South Sea Islands. Afterwards we were on outpost and picket duty for a few hours, and then the alarm went for us to be ready, and about three o’clock the next morning we were marching to a place, Towma, about twelve miles away. We had only marched three miles when the order came to halt, while H.M.A.S. “Encounter” shelled the trenches, and then we marched on again. It was the worst time most of us had, or ever want to have. Our water ran out, and if it had not been for the coconuts and milk, many would have died on the road. We were marching in sand over our ankles, and you can imagine the dust five hundred men would make, with machine guns and a field gun with us. When we arrived there they had surrendered, and we had to march back again. We were back in camp about nine the same night, all dead tired. On the following Saturday we went to Rabaul, about 15 miles up the harbour by boat, where we stopped until November. We went to the Solomon Islands to a place, Keitor, and captured ten prisoners there. There were 52 of us left there, and after about a fortnight we were relieved, and we were on the sea on Christmas Day, in an old tub of a boat, with nothing to eat only bully beef. The Islands were infested with diseases, and it was while we were at Keita I contracted malaria fever. These Islands are called “The White Man’s grave.” When we returned to Rabaul I went into a Hospital and remained there for some time, then was invalided back to Sydney.”

(Born in Aspley Guise in February 1891, Frederick was the son of Frederick Harris Day, once of 𠆊spley Villa,’ Woburn Sands, but later of Lands End, and having been apprenticed for two years to James Steers, a butcher in Woburn Sands, he emigrated to Australia and became a butcher in Hawthorn Parade, Haberfield, New South Wales. At the age of 23½ he enlisted in Australia on August 11th, 1914, and eight days later embarked from Sydney with his unit aboard HMAT A35 Berrima, on a mission to capture the German held territory to the north of Australia. On January 18th 1915 he was then discharged, being issued with a 1914/15 Star, British War medal and Victory medal. A brother, Herbert, aged 22, who, having been on the staff of the L.S. and W. Bank, Richmond, Surrey, joined the 17th Service Battalion, Royal Fusiliers, Whytcleafe Camp, Surrey, at Christmas 1914.)


NBT 1915 June 22nd Tue.

Bandsman H.J. Rice, of Woburn Sands, is serving with the Lincolnshire and Leicester Brigade, and on June 12th writes;

“I should like to send you a good account of our trench experiences, but am afraid of the Censor. Of course, we are getting a bit seasoned to this sort of warfare and have a lot of Kitchener’s Army here giving them instructions. I can tell you they get more than we did. We went in with a regular regiment for 24 hours, then came straight to this position, and have held it now for three months. I have sent dad two shell cases fired from the famous French 75 gun, and he would be pleased to show them to you if you run across him. I have some interesting items in my diary. Here is one instance. We were holding an advanced trench only 35 yards from the German trench, when about midnight a party of German bomb throwers came and attacked our trench with bombs, killing one of our captains, two sergeants, and several men; they also got into the trench, but they were soon ousted by our fellows, and we cleared the place in a very few minutes. Of course our trench was not very long, and was a sort of redoubt built up for strategical reasons. It only holds about 16 men. Well, the Germans went back thinner than they came, leaving some dead behind, including an officer, about 6ft. 4in. He was weighty, too. I helped to carry him out of our trenches (so, of course, I had to get a souvenir in the shape of a button from his coat). Since then the Germans made sure of getting this trench out of the way. While we were having our rest, the Lincolns being in, they sapped under and blew it to atoms, burying 10 Lincolns. This did us a good turn, for it enabled us to build a longer trench. This work was done at night, and proved rather dangerous. This was before the Whitsun holidays. Our turn in the trenches came again on Whit Sunday, Monday and the two following days. Monday was very quiet, and I fancy the Saxons were opposed to us; they always seem quieter than the Prussians and Bavarians. I thought it would be nice to get something extra for dinner, and knowing that there were some gooseberries in the garden of a ruined farmhouse near by, went in search and filled my mess tin. We boiled these and made a nice meal of stewed gooseberries. We get a good Church parade nearly every time we are out of the trenches, conducted by our own chaplain, and led by our Brigade Band, which happens to be the 5th Lincs. We had a big funeral the other day. It was a Colonel, who was killed at a certain regimental headquarters by a shell dropping on the house. It was very impressive and shows the grim realities of war. The band played the Dead March, also several hymns. As I am writing the shells are dropping a bit close, and our guns are replying, making a bit of a boom. You may, if you wish, put this in the local papers, and I don’t mind if my name does appear, people will know that one of the old Powage Press hands is out here enjoying the fun, for we do enjoy ourselves more than people think. By the way, we were in reserve for the big Neuve Chapelle business, but for some reason they could not get us up, or it would have been a bit bigger “do” than ever. The delay was owing to the wire breaking, I believe.”


NBT 1915 Sep. 21st Tue.

Private W. Wodhams, serving with the 7th Beds., writes to Mr. Steers;

“We are now in the trenches for 14 days again, and came upon Friday. The Germans must have had an idea someone was coming, as they gave us a lively reception, but did not hit anyone. It was the first time I had been under fire, but it was not so bad after the first few minutes. The others had been in the trenches before for eight days, but our doctor did not go, so I did not, as I am his orderly. I am in the dressing station just behind the reserve trenches, about 600 - 800 yards from the German lines, and we have to do all the dressing to sick and wounded; a nice easy job up to now, I can tell you. I have had that work ever since I saw you last. I don’t carry a pick or rifle as I wear a Red Cross. I am in a large dug-out with all our medical things, etc., and sleep on a wire mattress I made with some wire netting on four posts - very nice too; not half bad. It is practically shell proof as it is cut in a bank about 12 feet down, and 6 ft. of stones on the top, and has a road along the back about 6 to 8 ft. wide, and about the same depth, so it is safe from bullets, but a shell may drop on the road, and you have to look out. Our field guns are behind us, and the shells scream over our heads when they fire. There is hardly any firing in the day; you would never dream there is a war on at the time I am writing this, but you wait until 6 o’clock to-night; they all start - machine guns especially and the bullets fly overhead like rain. We have only had three wounded up to now. Last night I had just got to sleep and was called up to wake the doctor and get ready for them, and dressed them and sent them off to the hospital in the morning - one rather badly hit - so did not get to sleep again until 3 o’clock. You would like to be here. There are thousands of rats. We caught twenty in half an hour the other night and have had over fifty in wire cages. If I only had poor old Tramp here he would be in his glory. The German trenches are about 200 yards from ours. They have some good snipers - very hot stuff, I can tell you. I think this war will last ages, as both sides are waiting for one another to move, but our big guns are hot; you can see our shells burst right in their trenches. I have got quite used to trench life now, but you see I do not have to rough it so much as those actually in the firing line. I saw one of our aeroplanes attack a Taube yesterday and fire on him in mid-air; he hit him and he had to come down in a hurry. It must be rather trying work in the air like that. You should see the Germans shell our aeroplanes: you can see the shrapnel burst all round them; they are hot stuff on that, I can tell you - not such mugs as some people make out. By the way our doctor comes from Stony Stratford - C. Powell - and is brother to the one at Newport, I think. Anyhow he is a jolly fine fellow, and looks after us well.”

(At the end of 1914, Mr. E.T. Worley, the district Coroner for Bletchley, appointed Dr. Edward Brown, of Stony Stratford, to act as his deputy in the place of Dr. Cecil Powell, who had accepted a commission in the R.A.M.C. However, in November 1916 Dr. Powell would resign his commission and return from France to take up duties as Medical Officer of Health.)


NBT 1915 Oct. 12th Tue.

Private Mould writes home;

“I was in some of the many charges that took place all along the line. The place in question I cannot mention, but we had a large number of killed and wounded in my battalion; a great many wounded and some partially gassed. We advanced under cover of the gas, and finished up by advancing about 1½ kilometres and capturing prisoners about 300 strong. I am pleased to say that I am through without a scratch, although I can still taste the gas. My chum, Stapleton, is one of the missing. I shall have to tell all about it when we come home as one cannot describe it on paper. We had to leave our packs behind at a village, and mine has got lost, but I hope to get my safety razor, writing case, and souvenirs back. I am just longing for a piece of pudding so please don’t be long before sending the parcel. I have a feeling that I shall be home for Christmas. Let us hope it may be so.”


NBT 1915 Oct. 19th Tue.

Sergeant J. Griffin writes to his relatives in Russell Street;

“When I got your letter I was in the trenches only 100 yards from the Germans, and the shot and shell were coming like hailstones. How we live through it I don’t know; it is dreadful; it deafens you - you can’t hear anything. I have just had a wash - the first for seven days, and I am nearly frozen to death at night. How any of us came out of it I don’t know; it’s murder. I had one of my men killed by the side of me yesterday. I do wish it would finish, but there is no sign of it. It is enough to see others, and to see the way they die without a murmur. Day after day it’s the same thing. I do hope our son will never have to come into one of these fights; it will be terrible for him, but I suppose he is in it somewhere by this; I hope he will be spared if he is. Anyone that gets wounded and not too badly, and gets home, is very lucky; there are such a lot get killed.”


NBT 1915 Oct. 19th Tue.

Lance Corporal Wodhams was unofficially reported to have been killed, but has now written to his parents to say that he is quite well. He has had some exciting experiences, including an instance one afternoon when a platoon of men were in a cellar under a house. A shell came over and buried them all, but although most of them got out they were terribly burned on the face and hands. Compounding the danger, the Germans kept shelling the house, and at the finish the rescue party had to abandon their efforts, as it would have meant even more casualties. Lance Corporal Wodhams adds;

“I went underneath with the doctor, and they dropped a shell right on the top and some of the rescue party were hurt and some burned. A lot of bricks fell on me, and I began to wonder if I should get out alive, but I came out all right with nothing worse than a shaking and plenty of dirt, but the sight was cruel to see. Some of the poor boys were killed while they were sitting down. I hope I never shall see anything like it again. They were some of the regiment attached to us for instruction, and had only been in the trenches about half-an-hour. It was a terrible sensation when the shell fell. I heard it fall, and then there was a blinding flash and the top came in, and the dust seemed hot, and I was choked for a minute. I was in a tunnel about six feet long, trying to get a wounded man through, so happened to be in the strongest part, I think, or might have come off worse. When you think, it makes you wonder why all these cruel things are allowed to happen. Out of the lot that were here, I think only one man came through without a scratch. Some of the fellows came from Newport Pagnell and Stony Stratford. There was one poor fellow with a large hole in his ankle, and he never uttered a sound, although he must have been in terrible pain. Some of the fellows were our doctor’s own patients at home. I am glad to say the weather is keeping fine now, and the trenches have dried up very well, and I hope it will keep so, as it is miserable when it is so dirty.”


NBT 1916 Jan. 11th Tue.

Wilfred Wodhams, one of the local men at the front, writes to his relatives in the town;

“We are in an awful place this time; everywhere is knee deep in mud, and all the dug-outs let in water and are very poor. The one I am in has been repaired, and is quite dry, but they have not quite finished it yet; it will not be a decent one when it is done, but I suppose we shall have to make the best of a bad job and keep on smiling. The weather is very bad; it has been wet nearly all the time since we have been back in the trenches. Water is as dear as gold in this part of the line. It has to be fetched from a village about three miles away from here, and we get it in petrol cans. All the transports and food have to be brought up under cover of darkness, as the ground is very high and exposed. Just out at the front of our dug-out there is a grave-yard, and about 100 buried there, both French and English, side by side. It is very sad when you think of it. Things are very quiet up to now, and I hope they will continue to be so. I think we have had very good luck up to now … but am longing for the time to come when all this is over and I can come back to the dear old home again.”


NBT 1916 Jan. 18th Tue.

The youngest son of Mr. John Turney, of Woburn Sands, Private Wilfrid Turner, 2337, D Company, 2/7th Middlesex Regiment, writes;

“We are still where we were when I wrote last. The usual routine of a defended camp goes on day and night - chiefly during the latter, it seems to me, for two consecutive nights in bed is an unwonted luxury. I’ve had it on two occasions during a period extending over 18 nights. One of our posts is in a disused Arab cemetery. How would you like that? Last Sunday was a regular red-letter day, although I was unable to take part in the fun. After Church parade, all the fellows who wished were allowed to go bathing, the sea being about four miles to the north of us. I couldn’t go, as I was on cook-house fatigue. When the fellows arrived on the beach they found several large cases of eggs washed up, and one or two others were in course of being landed. The coast is absolutely deserted for miles and miles, so it didn’t need much persuasion to convince the fellows that findings were keepings. The triumphal procession homewards was a spectacle. A couple of noble youths tied up the legs of a pair of pants and filled the garment, carrying it between them. Pockets, helmets, towels, etc. were utilised, and the nine men from our tent managed to bag over 430 between them. My stars, we’ve had some ripping feeds - boiled eggs for tea, fried ditto for breakfast; as many as we could manage every time. To-day (Christmas Day) we had a custard made of 40 eggs and three tins of milk, and I can tell you it was A1. Tomorrow’s fry for breakfast will about finish the supply. I should say the eggs formed part of a deck cargo of some boat which encountered the gales that blew towards the end of last week. I thought how welcome they would have been at home this time of the year, especially as they were large and quite fresh.”


NBT 1916 June 20th Tue.

W.T. Capps, of the 5th Dragoons, is a prisoner of war, and sends his thanks to kind friends at Woburn Sands for the parcels they have sent. All have been received safely, and he writes;

“How glad we shall be when this is over; no one who has not experienced it can have any idea of the feeling caused through being behind barbed wire. Glad to say we all keep in splendid health and good spirits.”


NBT 1916 Oct. 31st Tue.

Regarding the death in action of Private Clarence Fisher, of the 6th Battalion Northamptonshire Regiment, his officer writes to his mother;

“It is with great sorrow that I have to inform you that No. 8834 Pte. C. Fisher was killed in action on Sept. 29th, 1916. He was one of our snipers, and his death will be a great loss to the Company. He was killed instantly by a shell while carrying bombs, which were urgently needed by his comrades in the front line. I hope it will be some consolation to you to know he died a brave man, doing his duty as he always has done.”

The eldest son of Mr. and Mrs. R. Fisher, of Sandfield Cottages, Woburn Sands, Private Fisher was aged 23, and had joined the Northants. Special Reserves nearly eight years ago. A former employee of the L.&N.W. Railway, Birmingham, he was wounded twice during the first year of the war.


NBT 1917 May 22nd Tue.

Mrs. Dawborn, of Heather Bank Cottage, has received news that her son, Corporal W. Dawborn, is in hospital at Edinburgh, suffering from a bullet wound in the right arm. On May 17th he writes;

“I went over the top with my battalion on May 3rd and stopped the bullet.”


NBT 1917 June 12th Tue.

Mrs. Burt, of Chapel Street, has received a number of letters and newspaper reports regarding the death of her son, Private James Burt, of the Canadian Overseas Contingent. He was killed in action on April 26th. Captain Fletcher, of the regiment with which Private Burt trained, writes;

“He enlisted with me at Dorchester last winter. The impression he made upon me right from the start was good. I would that there were more like him - always obedient, cheerful, with a smile on his countenance that would drive away gloom from the rest of us. I feel as if I have lost a son, and I cannot express the feelings of Mrs. Fletcher, myself, or my daughters. Your boy had supper with me just a few days before he left for overseas. While in my Company he spoke of you, his mother, and always with reverence and love, that stood out so prominent in his disposition. We sometimes ask ourselves, is the prize worth the price we are paying? We believe it is.”

The London Ontario ‘Advertiser’ publishes a sketch and photo of Private Burt, whose twin brother, Henry, was recently killed in action.


NBT 1917 July 24th Tue.

Regarding the loss of their 25 year old son, 2nd Lieutenant T.G. Bowler, of the 6th Siege Battery, Royal Garrison Artillery, Thomas and Catherine Bowler, of Rushmere, Theydon Avenue, Woburn Sands, have amongst several letters received one from Major W.H. Fry, Siege Battery. On June 30th he writes;

“I grieve heartily to tell you that your dear son was killed instantly last night in the O.P. I attended his burial by Church of England Chaplain today in the military cemetery. He was a ripping little fellow, and a great friend of mine, always so cheery and willing.”

Conveying the sympathy of his battery, on July 2nd he writes;

“A better officer, for his short service, or a cheerier, happier comrade, I could never wish for, and the men really loved the lad.”


NBT 1917 Aug. 21st Tue.

Mrs. Brett, of Vicarage Street, has received a letter from Captain Winsland, A.S.C., stating that her husband, Private Benjamin Brett, 61st Ammunition Supply Park, Army Service Corps, died on Saturday, August 4th, from wounds received whilst on duty on August 2nd. He was on his lorry in the forward area when a shell burst nearby, wounding him in the arms and leg, and the side. First aid was given by a medical officer who was in the lorry, and although he and two other men were also wounded, the injuries were not serious. Private Brett, with others, was taken to a dressing station and later No. 32 Casualty Clearing Station, where he underwent an operation. Born in Norfolk, he was aged 38, besides his widow leaves four sons.


NBT 1917 Sep. 4th Tue.

A letter from an Army Chaplain was received on Friday morning by Mrs. Jenkins, intimating that her husband, Private Alfred Jenkins, 2nd Battalion, Northamptonshire Regiment, had died on Sunday, August 19th from wounds received in action in the head, chest, and legs. Born at Woburn Sands, he was aged 22, and had been in France for nine months. He leaves a widow and young child.


B.S. 1917 Dec. 15th

The sad news has been received that Lieutenant Arthur Hebbes, 4th Battalion, (Territorial), Suffolk Regiment attached Nigeria Regiment, R.W.A.F.F., was killed on Wednesay, November 28th, 1917, aboard the ill fated ‘Appa.,’ torpedoed within a few miles of British shores. Aged 41, he was the son of Henry and Elizabeth Hebbes, of Aspley Heath, and, having accepted a commission soon after the outbreak of war, had seen much service in West Africa. Previously he had been closely connected with the church and the Unionist party, becoming agent to the Lowestoft Unionist party. He is commemorated on the Hollybrook Memorial, at Southampton.


NBT 1918 Jan. 22nd Tue.

Serving with the Kensington Territorial Regiment, Private Cecil Cooke, the second son of Mr. and Mrs. Cooke, of ‘Sandmere’, Russell Street, was brought to a hospital at Birmingham during the weekend. Aged under 20, he has been in France for almost a year, and a while ago was taken to a military hospital at Rouen. Connected with the district in London where Private Cooke previously lived, the chaplain of the hospital was the Reverend Arthur Boyce, C.F., who on January 12th wrote to Private Cooke’s parents;

“As you know, Cecil is with us. Yesterday to give new life to one of the lads here, Cecil gave some of his blood by the transfusion process. I saw him in the evening and he was feeling none the worse for the operation. You will be relieved and happy to know that your son is coming to England almost at once. I shall miss my capable organist much as Cecil has been invaluable in my services.”


NBT 1918 Nov. 12th Tue.

In a letter to the mother of Private C. Britchford, of the Buffs, Lieutenant Flecking writes that whilst attending to the wounded he was killed instantly. He was a brave and fearless soldier, and a great many of his comrades had reason to be very thankful for his good work as a stretcher bearer.


ALSO AVAILABLE IN BOOK FORM AS ‘LETTERS FROM THE FIRST WORLD WAR’ FROM WWW. LULU.COM,
PRODUCED WITH THE INVALUABLE EXPERTISE OF ALAN KAY & ZENA DAN.