Keep the Home Fires Burning - detailing wartime life in the towns and villages mentioned.

Just before his last return to the firing line, Private Mark Page, of Linslade, late of the 1/4th Seaforth Highlanders, whose death in action was announced a fortnight ago, wrote an interesting letter to a friend at Bedford;

“I am glad to say I am enjoying perfect health. I am also glad to say that my wound has quite disappeared now. What an escape it was. It makes me realise all the more how near God is to me, answering your prayers and my own. We were in the trenches and reserve dug-outs 16 days and we are enjoying four days rest now. Another draft from Bedford has joined us and we expect to go up into the firing line again on Sunday. The idea people in England have of us is one of constant trial and troubles, but believe me, I love being out here. It is not nearly so bad as people imagine. No doubt it was bad in the rough, cold weather, but we are having lovely summer weather now. You hear people saying we don’t get enough to eat, but they are wrong, I have always had enough up to now, and it is only very dissatisfied men who would want more. I often hear chaps grumbling and saying they will write home for parcels, but it is a waste of money to the senders. A parcel cannot last a chap more than two or three days, and then they start grumbling again. Some of them expect the Army to supply just the sort of things we should get at home, custards, jellies, tins of fruit, and eggs and things like that. They would get on a lot better if they had made up their minds from the first to be satisfied with everything. That’s what I did and I have no cause to complain yet. We are not altogether without music out here as I have a mouth organ and a tin whistle and two of us played these every day in the trenches. We went to the trenches on Sunday night, and as we marched along I played ‘Onward, Christian Soldiers’ and ‘Abide with Me’ on the whistle. It sounded very weird on that quiet night, and I feel sure it reminded some of the men of God and home . . . I have a brother on his way from Canada to England to enlist. That will make four of us brothers soldiers and three in Canada are training in their spare time for home defence, so I think my father and mother are very well represented in the Army . . . I have never been unwell a single day since I enlisted, I think the open air life is doing me a world of good. I never felt better in my life than I do now . . . Our battalion had the honour of being inspected by General Sir John French on April 10th, and he praised us very highly for the splendid work we did at Neuve Chapelle. Of course I was in Bedford when the great advance was made. I have seen the distance they advanced at Neuve Chapelle and I think they did splendidly.”

NBT 1915 July 13th Tue.

Private W.H. Brantom, of the Civil Service Rifles, has returned home wounded from the Front, where he and three others won the D.C.M. In the following letter he gives an account of the action in which the medals were won;

“It happened on Whit-Monday, when the battalion, after a turn in the trenches, was in reserve. Eight volunteers were called for to act as bomb-throwers for the Post Office Rifles, who had been ordered to attack a particular section of the German trenches that had been giving trouble in their immediate front. A large number of men readily volunteered and after dark the eight chosen, in the charge of a sergeant of the Post Office Rifles, moved out in advance of the attacking company. The first German trench was surprised. Two bombs were exploded ‘beautifully,’ and all the occupants of the trench killed. A furious fusillade then started from the neighbouring German trenches. The sergeant, and two leading ‘bombers’ fell, but the remainder went on and were so close to the enemy’s lines that every bomb found its billet. The little operation was soon finished and proved completely successful. Of the eight original ‘grenadiers,’ four were killed, two wounded, and two escaped untouched.”

In the account in his diary of the affair, all that Private Brantom entered was;

“Went to assist P.O. Rifles at Festubert in firing-line.”

He has recently been released from hospital, and is now engaged in canvassing for recruits for the regiment.

NBT 1915 Aug. 10th Tue.

Lance Corporal F.E. Griffin, who is with the motor transport, writes from Alexandria to a friend in Linslade;

“We have nothing to grumble about here, only we sometimes say to each other ‘Isn’t it hot?’ We have had no rain since we landed here, close on four months now. Every day is the same, a lovely clear blue sky during the day and a golden sunset in the evening, which it is a treat to sit on the beach and watch. I think this country is ideal for anyone who can stand the heat, but it plays havoc with those who are not strong enough. I saw about 150 Turkish prisoners the other morning with an armed escort. Some of them looked rough and tumble sort of chaps. We are kept fairly busy all the time with the lorries. The time seems to pass more quickly now we have been here a decent time. I could not for the life of me say how long we are likely to be here; it may be for days or it may be for years, but not for ever I hope! One of Dave Kiteley’s sons called here the other day on his way to the Dardanelles. He was down at the docks on the boat, and he sent word up to me to say he was there, but I didn’t see him after all, because he sailed the next morning. He was in the Army Ordnance Corps.”

NBT 1915 Aug. 24th Tue.

In a letter to the President of the L.M.M., one of the Linslade members, Private L. Woolhead, writes;

“The way they (the Germans) have treated some of the people here makes our blood boil; you feel you want to go straight away and kill every one of them. Some of the slackers who are still at home ought to see some of it, then perhaps they would want to join and come out here. I will just give you an instance. There was a man, his wife and daughter, and after torturing his wife, they killed her, and then molested his daughter. They killed her and left the husband all alone, and now he is pining his life away. He sits all day in one place and neither eats nor drinks unless people take food to him, and this all through a lot of people who think they are above all others. If slackers saw this - I know it’s true because I’ve been in the house - those who are left at home and don’t join are not Englishmen at all.”

NBT 1915 Sep. 28th Tue.

In a descriptive letter to Miss L. Griffin, of Linslade, Sapper Jackman writes;

“Several days ago we witnessed a most terrible bombardment of the Turkish positions. Cruisers from the harbour and land batteries rained shells on them for four hours at the rate of 400 per hour. How anyone could exist under such fire I do not know; it must have been a perfect hell for them. The infantry attack lasted all through the night, just how much advance was made I am unable to say. . . Our second home was the worst for shells, shrapnel coming over us three times during the day. One fell in our signal office and wounded one man, fortunately not very seriously. At present we have had about 50 casualties, quite a high percentage for a signal company. Two men who were billeted with me are gone, one wounded, the other missing. Have met several friends of mine out here in the Bucks Huzzars; Sambrook, our postman, is among them. The Welsh Signal Company, which stayed at Grovebury about three years ago, are here and one of them soon recognised me as a visitor to their camp.”

NBT 1915 Oct. 5th Tue.

Mrs. W. Fennell, daughter of Mr. George Gibbins, of Bossington Lane, Linslade, has received a letter from her husband, Private Fennell. Serving with the Yorks. and Lancs. Regiment he has been wounded in the foot, and writes;

“I have been hit pretty bad and was brought here from the base last night. The doctor says my left foot is smashed, but it will soon be better again. We set off for the trenches last Thursday and were in action on Thursday night. We had to dig ourselves in about 1 o’clock and were ordered to retreat about 5 o’clock in the morning. I don’t know how we got through; but the Germans have had it very bad. They were driven back nearly six miles, but they made a very strong counter-attack. I don’t think the war will last much longer as the Germans have been on the run since last Friday. The Camerons and the King’s Own Scottish Borderers made a charge on Saturday, and the Germans were crying for mercy. . . . There are some awful sights here. I think we wounded are going to Havre or Boulogne, but I will write again as soon as I can. I don’t think you will see any of your lodgers again, and I know for a fact that Captain --- went under. You couldn’t describe the noise made by the guns and shooting, and I can tell you I have had enough to last me a bit. I don’t think I am as bad as the doctor makes out, but it was a dum-dum bullet which went through me, and they make a ghastly wound.”

NBT 1915 Oct. 5th Tue.

How the Germans treacherously cried for mercy, when the Yorks. and Lancs. men were charging them, is told in a letter that Private J. Gabriel has sent to some Linslade friends;

“I was in action from eleven o’clock on Saturday night until 6 p.m. on Monday, and had it rough. Well, we fought like soldiers should do, but when you are charging the Germans with the bayonet, the first thing they do is to put up their hands and cry ‘Mercy, mercy’, and if you are not careful as soon as your back is turned they drop hand bombs which they have underneath their coats. They do this after they have asked for mercy and while you are charging the others. They are absolutely cruel cowards and nothing else. Two of our officers are dead. A search party for the missing is going out this morning. I have lost all my pack. The Major told us to take our packs off to enable us better to charge the enemy, but no sooner had we taken them off than the German machine guns started on us. We got the order to retreat, and we did so sharp, and I had to leave my pack behind. Well, I think that instead of the Kaiser breaking our line we have broken his, and if it goes on as it is doing now, I think the war will be over nicely by Christmas. We are now having a little rest. I have got through one engagement all right, and I trust that I shall get through the others.”

NBT 1915 Oct. 19th Tue.

Private A. Fawcett, of the Yorks. and Lancs. Regiment, who was formerly billeted with Mr. and Mrs. W. J. Faulkner, of Auburn House, Linslade, has sent them the following letter, describing the regiment’s great charge;

“Just a line or two to let you know how we are going on, and to let you know that we have been in action on the 25th and 26th September. The Germans let us know that we had been, they set about us proper. We started advancing about 8 p.m. on the 25th. The first thing we came to was something I had never witnessed before, we were relieving a Scotch regiment which had been having a go at them, and we had to walk over their dead and wounded, and there were some for over a mile long. We began to think we had dropped into it at last, and we soon found out we had. The next order was ‘fix bayonets,’ and away we went, wondering what would come next, but nothing much happened till 6 o’clock next morning, and then we had a very hot time. Our chaps stuck it well while they could. Of course we were not in the trenches at the time this happened, we were in the open, and could not get cover anywhere. There were a good many men wounded very badly and a few killed. Harry and Cyril were wounded very badly, and --- was killed. I was very lucky myself, I just got caught with one shot, it went straight through my pocket and grazed my side about three inches; I had to feel if my hair had lifted my hat off or not! I will leave you to guess how I was feeling at that moment. We have lost several officers. They are giving us a rest now. Then I expect we shall have to go into it again. I was very sorry to hear of your brother (Pte. A. J. Faulkner) being wounded, and hope he will get through all right. I am sitting in a churchyard writing this, not a very lively spot is it? But it is nice and quiet so I am all right. Of course I can hear the big guns.”

In a further letter to Mr. and Mrs. Faulkner, Private Fawcett writes;

“The Yorks and Lancs came out to fight, not to run away, and there is not much holding back. . . . I know this much, we all got beans - West Yorks, Yorks and Lancs and East Yorks - but I think the Yorks and Lancs got it the worst. We shall be ready again, however, when we have been made up. I am just thinking of putting my ‘bed’ down and settling down for the night on a bit of straw and a blanket. We have plenty of company at night. We are sleeping with horses and pigs and a rat or two keeps coming to have a look at us, so we can’t grumble, but for all this I would like to be at Linslade having a game of ‘donkey’ with you.”

NBT 1915 Oct. 19th Tue.

Sapper Dennis Jackman, formerly of the Leighton Buzzard Post Office Indoor Staff, who is now a telegraphist at the Dardanelles, writes from Gallipoli to Mr. L. H. London, of Linslade;

“Am pleased to say I am quite well and just getting used to this Ancient Briton kind of life. . . Since we came here it has been one continuous rain of shells, to which we have all got thoroughly used. Had one or two narrow escapes soon after landing, but have been in a safer place during the last week or two, only being troubled occasionally by shells or stray bullets. Of course I am still on telegraph duty at Divisional Headquarters, so do not get right up into the firing line. The other day I went very nearly into the front line trenches, to lay a cable line. On the way up we had tea with a party of Indians, afterwards having a look at the Turks through a Ghurkha sniper’s periscope. The weather here is a good deal like our own, except that it’s much drier and slightly colder. Up to a week ago the days were very hot, and you can guess we had a rough time digging our dug-outs in this hard rocky ground. We have changed our position several times, so have had the job of building a new home each time. At the present time we are very near several of the Australian and New Zealand Divisions, and about one and a half miles from the sea. It is difficult to get water, and an occasional wash is a luxury; it’s not safe to go to the beach very often as you make too good a target for shrapnel and snipers, and of course, I’m not anxious to allow them to improve their shooting qualities on me. It is not at all an uncommon sight to see a man having a bath in two or three quarts of water, and then washing some clothes in it afterwards. The other day I heard that Len Baggott was wounded. I myself was at the place where it happened about three weeks ago. I can assure you it is far from a picnic out here, and I’m inclined to think that the fellows in France have the best of it. The climate, country and difficulties of transport are all against us. We know this well by the rations we receive. Of course, under the circumstances they are as good as can be expected, but not nearly good enough. The last respectable meal I had was in Alexandria some weeks ago.”

NBT 1915 Nov. 23rd Tue.

From France, Private Joe Cook, of “D” Company, 10th Yorks and Lancs Regiment, has sent a lively description of his experiences to Mrs. G. H. Griffin, of “Maldon,” Wing Road, Linslade. He was billeted with her last winter, and writes;

“I am now off guard, having done two hours, until 3 a.m., so I’ve got a chance, bar accidents, to write to you. We talked about rain in Leighton, but it has rained here for three days. There isn’t a man here but would like the chance of another run round to his old billet. I suppose you know when we sailed and also about our being in action. It rained on the Saturday night, and in fact had rained all day. I shall never forget it; it was a hell hole. It was a wonder half of us ever came out of it. The Germans had big guns and machine guns every few yards; fancy, between seven and eight thousand men put out of action in a few hours. Poor George has not been heard of since, but there is a chance he was captured. I hope so. There were 5,000 shells fired in the hour, and you know if one of these bursts within ten yards of you it’s ‘a case’ for somebody. One of our first casualties was through a shell dropping amongst some of our men. One poor beggar was blown to bits, another blinded, and a few others wounded. It was shrapnel. We don’t mind the shells; it’s the ‘kicks’ they give. Of course, we were practically in the open, no trenches, but it had to be done. The Huns had to be shifted, and when the order comes it has to be done, but at what cost; not a few pounds which can be lost to-day and gained to-morrow, but lives which are gone for ever. I think we shall be starving in this neighbourhood this winter. I say winter because it won’t be over yet. There is a lot of work to do, from what I can see of it. It’s a battle of engineers. I can’t explain because I should not be allowed, but it’s wonderful. The trenches are fine, the barbed wire is hellish. You have seen a hen-run a yard high, covered with wire which is crossed and twisted, well it looks just like it, and woe betide the horse or man who gets in it. I have seen it in the main streets of places we have come through. The best way to shift it is with artillery; it’s wonderful how they blow it up, they can drop shells to the inch. Why they don’t get the Huns out of the trenches is because they are too deep in the earth. They are burrowed in like rabbits. The trenches are seven feet deep with dug-outs at intervals. I mean by a dug-out a place big enough to put a dozen men, or more, in with accommodation. The only way to shift them is by bayonet or gas. I don’t care much for gas as it is so easy for us to get it if the wind changes. We have seen some Huns gassed. They were sitting and standing as if asleep, just the same as if petrified. Of all the devilish inventions for destroying life it is here. We are in touch with the Devil all along the line. We are told that God gave and God shall take away. If that is so then civilization is getting too thick on the land. You will think it strange, but when I have looked round I have often wondered ‘Is there a God to allow such destruction to go on for a few fanatics?’ Don’t think I have turned atheist because I haven’t, but you cannot realise it. It is the two extremes. As regards food, we are ‘very fair,’ although not so good as being with you, but if we do no worse we shall not do amiss. It’s wonderful how they supply us; the transport is second to none. We all had a bath yesterday. It is the first we had had since we landed. Soap is a luxury here. If you manage to buy a bit for 5d. a quarter lb. you have to carry it in your jacket or you will lose it. Matches are scarce, and cigs. you can’t buy. I am hard hit without them, but I keep in remarkably good health. Bob is with a machine gun. I don’t see much of him. I could put you a letter together, but I am not allowed; what I put here is on my honour. I am liable to be shot at night if I give military knowledge away. If I have the luck to get back I will call and see you, and give you all particulars. It is a game of luck. Some people used to tell me there was no such thing as luck. There is here. It’s a game of hide and seek, watching for one another. My maxim has always been ‘What is to be will be.’ We have had six days of work and three nights in the trenches, and we shall be stopping in for a bit now. I must close with best wishes, as you will be tired of reading this stuff. I will keep in touch with you as we keep progressing. We are out to win, and nothing can stop us, but it takes time because it’s a big thing. The candle’s all but gone out so I’ll have to finish.”

NBT 1915 Dec. 14th Tue.

Billeted in Linslade last winter, a Private in the Somerset Light Infantry writes;

“I am glad to say I am in very good health considering the weather we have had since we have been here, now nearly two months. We are in the trenches at present, we do --- days in and as many out, but while out we get rest at night, but work in the trenches by day. It is very hard up here owing to the rain; it’s nothing but water and mud. You get simply plastered from head to foot, but you soon get used to it. We are all as bright as can be because we know we are on the side of right, and any man that is a man at all, that could see what it is like for the poor people out here, would pray to God that it may never happen to loved ones at home in England. It’s terrible for them; they are like hunted rats, they never know when a shell will upset their little home. This is the place for all able-bodied men, to keep the war this side of the Channel.”

NBT 1915 Dec. 28th Tue.

Two interesting letters have been received from Sapper Dennis Jackman, who was employed at the Leighton Buzzard Post Office before the war. He is now a telegraphist at the Dardanelles, and writes to Miss L. Griffin, at Linslade;

“Imagine me in a little dug-out on the side of a hill, time 7 p.m. - or 1900 as we call it out here - with nothing to do until 9 p.m., when I go on duty for the night. Unfortunately there are no pictures to go to and no girls to take out, so we have to amuse ourselves as best we can - what a party of bachelors we shall be when we return? Have just seen an ‘L.B.O.’ containing my letter to ---. I did not know I had been created their war correspondent. It seems funny to get my own letters back again. . . Things are still about the same as usual out here, perhaps a bit more lively than before. Last night (Nov. 15th) we had a small action close here, but nothing very important, otherwise things are still quiet. Lord Kitchener paid us a visit the other day, but did not stay very long. I shouldn’t be surprised if we make a move here before very long, but, of course, cannot say. Let’s hope it will come off as we are all tired of waiting.”

Writing four days later, Sapper Jackman adds:

“Just a few lines to let you know I am still in the land of the living in the same old Gallipoli peninsula. I wrote you a long letter last week, but have been told that some of the letters posted last Monday were sunk and lost off Mudros, so my letter may never reach you. At the same time they tell us that letters written and posted in England between October 25th and 29th, and parcels between October 15th and 21st, went down on the Ocean Queen, which probably explains why I have not heard lately. Thus we are occasionally deprived of the only little treat we have to look forward to. Still, we must cheer up and feel thankful that we are alive, and I’m pleased to say, enjoying good health again after being ‘off colour’ for about two months. The weather has turned very cold, such a vast change from what we have been used to, but it has pulled me up wonderfully. We are still at a standstill here and expect to be for a month or two. There seems to have been a lot of discussion at home about events here, but only those who have seen can realize the stupendous task the troops have had. Indeed, all honour is due to them for the gains already made - the loss has been heavy enough. I received a parcel from the Hockliffe Street School and you can guess the contents were much enjoyed.”

NBT 1916 Jan. 4th Tue.

Driver G.T. Richards, of Wing Road, is serving in the R.F.A. with the British Expeditionary Force, and writes;

“I read in your paper of many local men who are serving with the Mediterranean Force, but so far it has only been my luck to meet one and that was Frank Griffin. The first time I met him was on the docks at Alexandria, as I was about to embark for the Gallipoli Peninsula, on April 21st. Since that I have come across him many times in Egypt, as for a few weeks I was in camp next to the motor transport at Mustapha Pasha.”

NBT 1916 Jan. 4th Tue.

From No. 13 General Hospital, Boulogne, Sergeant A.E. Mellor, who was well known in Linslade as billet Paymaster of the 10th Yorks and Lancs Regiment, writes to Mr. C. Bodsworth, of Wing Road;

“Many thanks for your most welcome letter which I received in the trenches. The old Colonel is still in command of our Battalion. I suppose you would see the account in the papers of that attack on the German trenches. It was exciting, and I am pleased to say that everything passed off well. About noon on the same day I received a bullet wound in the knee. I had it extracted the same evening and underwent an operation on Saturday and am now progressing as well as can be expected. I am afraid I shall have to be patient a long time and shall not be able to have the jolly times we had last year. So we must make the best of circumstances. I think the Sisters here have a surprise in store for us; they are very good and considerate. It was just after I had assisted carrying one of our men out that a German picked me off behind our supports. Wishing all at home and friends at Leighton Buzzard the compliments of the season.”

NBT 1916 Feb. 1st Tue.

Mrs. A. Holland, of 40, Springfield Road, Linslade, has received a letter regarding the wounding of her son, Private G.L. Holland, who has since been officially reported as dead. Private Barlow had served with him in India, and writes;

“I last saw him lying on the beach in Gallipoli on April 25th. He was hit on the leg - a nasty blow, and his shin bone was smashed. It was during the landing, and he was lying on the sands with one leg in the sea. I do not know what became of him after.”

NBT 1916 Feb. 15th Tue.

The nephew and his wife of Dr. Johnstone Harris were on board the ill fated vessel ‘Persia’ when she was torpedoed. Thankfully they were saved, and a letter from Alexandria tells of the experience;

“How we got away is just an act of God’s loving kindness, for on looking back it seems an impossibility for two of the same clan to have come through. We were mustering for lunch in the dining saloon, and L. (her husband) and I had just sat down when, without the slightest noise or a warning, the ship gave an awful shiver and began to list. The room not being very full it was an easy matter to get out and rush for the lifebelts, but before we got to the cabin water was flowing down the passages. Not a cry was heard; everyone appeared stunned. I got the belts and we put them on going up the gangway. We fell over, and then everyone seemed to rush over us, but up we got and reached our boat at last, each one of us being assigned a certain boat in case of accidents. L. jumped in to help me, but the boat began to lower, and the ship was beginning to sink. Still no cries were heard! I meant to get to L., so swung myself from a rope over the sea just in time, and he landed me in the boat, in which were about six others. Then we found we could not get away from the ship, and down into the sea we went. I just thought “Now for the bump, and then death. I remembered the feeling of being under the capsized boat. Then I came up to the surface, and to my great joy found L. beside me. We were all among wreckage, screaming people, wee babies and Lascars, who were abominable, trying to cling on to people’s legs or anything they could lay hold of. L. and I were still together, but I suppose when the Persia went down the suction and swirl of the water separated us, and I found myself alone, making a superhuman effort to get on a piano. I thought I was safe thus far, and I would not give in, but my strength gave way, and some more wreckage washed me away, but fortunately, right up to a boat. I caught hold of the ropes, and a friend we had made on board saw me and cried to me to hold on, as the boat they were in was nearly full of water. So I held on, and was just feeling myself floating into a dense sort of mist and then someone pulled me into the boat. I was saved! Then I thought of L. and wondered what his fate had been. You can imagine my joy when I saw him in a lifeboat, immediately at the back. From the time we left the dining saloon until we first dipped into the sea was four minutes; the ship actually sank in four minutes and a half. We found only our boats had got away, and out of 450 to 500 people on board, only eighteen ladies, two children, and 100 men got away. We all coupled up and drifted together, and the horror of that night I cannot go into. I got into the worst boat of all - two ladies, fifteen Lascars, four white men, and seven natives. We all huddled together, and got under the sail and it was awful to feel all the dirty Lascars with their heads and bodies so near to me. But I was alive, and so was L., and little else mattered. We were 36 hours like this, and no one can realise the joy when a good old English mine-sweeper picked us up. She had heard of our plight, and came out to find us. The officers and men on that boat were most kind; they could not do enough for us. L.’s hand is badly burnt, and my little finger was crushed, but not badly. We were all very nervy, and jump at anything strange, but we are here and alive, and everybody is so good and kind to us. We have lost everything.”

‘L.’ writes;

“Everything was over in so short a time that the marvel is anyone at all escaped. We launched our boat alright, but the man from the other end could not get it free from its davits, and the ship gave a lurch and came down on us all, upsetting the boat, and taking it and us down with it. Fortunately A. (the writer of the first letter), had, with great pluck, rushed into the cabin for the lifebelts, and these brought us up again. We were picked up by different boats, and I did not know for some time she was saved. Her boat was nearly full of Lascars and Genoese stewards. The few English in the boat said she was wonderful, and got them all going full pitch. She has her little finger pinched a bit, and is smothered with awful bruises. I have a bad bruise and burn on my left hand.”

NBT 1916 July 11th Tue.

Serving with the Queen’s Westminsters, Sergeant H. Blake, the son of Mr. E. Blake, of Dudley Street, was wounded on Saturday week, and is now in hospital at Epsom. He tells that during a British advance he cleared the first and second line of German trenches, and was about to leap the third when he received a heavy blow on his steel helmet from a shell splinter. Momentarily dazed, he then went on but a comrade shouted “You’ve got one now,” and pointed to where his trousers were blood stained. When struck by the piece of shrapnel on his helmet he had probably not been aware that a bullet had passed through the fleshy part of his left leg. However, he took revenge by bayoneting a burly Prussian Guard before retiring. His parents visited him in hospital on Saturday, and found him to be making satisfactory progress.

NBT 1916 July 11th Tue.

Mr. W. Brantom, of Ivydene, Stoke Road, Linslade, has received the sad news that his only son, Second Lieutenant W.H. Brantom, has been killed in France. He had been home on leave just a few days before. A former pupil of Dunstable Grammar School, he was well known for his sporting interests, and on the outbreak of war immediately joined the Civil Service Rifles. At the battle of Festubert in May 1915 he won the D.C.M., and after treatment in England for a shoulder wound returned to the front in January. Despite having on several occasions been offered a commission he declined, preferring to remain with his comrades. However, when offered a commission in his own battalion, he then accepted. Writing to Mr. W. Brantom, the Colonel of the battalion says;

“As Colonel of the battalion, and on behalf of all my officers, I wish to offer you and your family our deep sympathy. On the night of July 3rd - 4th there was heavy artillery fire on our trenches and your son was struck by a piece of shell, which penetrated his steel helmet and killed him instantly. Last year at Festubert he and three others gained the D.C.M. These were the first honours that the battalion had gained, and we were proud of them. When he rejoined the battalion as an officer in January last, we were all glad to have him back. His loss to us is great, for he was a most capable and trustworthy officer. He was buried yesterday afternoon by one of the Chaplains of our Brigade, in one of the recognised Cemeteries here. It is under the supervision of the Graves Registration Committee. A cross with a metal plate will be put up by them, and the grave will be looked after. Let me assure you again of the great sympathy I feel for you in this great sorrow.”

NBT 1916 Aug. 15th Tue.

Gunner B. Chandler, 71974, 12th Anti Aircraft Battery, France, is the nephew of Mrs. W. Seabrook of 33, New Road, Linslade, and writes;

“Would you be so kind as to spare a small space in the “Leighton Buzzard Observer” for an appeal on behalf of my comrades and myself. We should be grateful if a few townspeople would send us out about one dozen rush hats. We find the sun very trying as we are the whole day with our faces towards the sky watching for aircraft, and it is not always necessary to wear our shrapnel helmets. A field hat would save headaches and other little ailments caused by the sun. We are always kept very busy with Hun planes in this hot weather.”

NBT 1916 Nov. 21st Tue.

As a welcome visitor to the Linslade Red Cross Working Party, on Monday Miss Richards, late of No. 2 Stationary Hospital, Abbeville (just behind the firing line), and afterwards Sister on an ambulance train, convoying wounded from the Somme front, thanked the members for the articles they had sent to the hospital and the ambulance train. She then gave a first hand account of the hospital’s preparations to receive the wounded, after the first great push on the Somme. Whilst on night duty she had heard the incessant booming of the great guns, and in the morning was thinking of bed when she saw great motor convoys coming along the road to the hospital. As fast as they arrived, others followed, and the hospital was made urgently ready to receive the cases, with many of the men so caked in mud and dust that it was impossible to tell their nationality. Miss Richards also told of her five hour wait in a siding in the ambulance train, under constant shell fire, and remarked that the English ambulance trains were far superior to those of the French. On December 8th, Miss Richards would give a similar talk to the Soulbury Red Cross Working Party .

NBT 1916 Nov. 28th Tue.

Mr. and Mrs. F. Seddon, of Pear Tree Cottage, Southcourt, have been unofficially informed that their eldest son has been killed in action by a shell. He was serving with the Royal Sussex Regiment, and had been on active service for about three months. In a letter to his parents the Captain of his company writes;

“It is with great regret that I have to inform you of the death of your son, No. 4052, Pte. Seddon, R.S., who was killed to-day by a shell whilst on a working party. He and several others were killed instantly and it may be a little comfort to you that he suffered no pain. I can only offer you my most sincere sympathy in your great loss, and hope that the knowledge that he died without pain in a great cause will soften slightly your grief.”

At the outbreak of war, Private Seddon had twice been refused as unfit, but was later called up and went to the front as a pioneer.

NBT 1917 Jan. 9th Tue.

From their son, Sergeant H. S. Dunleavy, R.A.M.C., Headquarters Staff, Western Frontier Force, an interesting description of a native wedding has been received by Mr. and Mrs. Dunleavy, Rosebury Avenue, Linslade. Well known as a hockey player, he was employed in the clerical department at Wolverton Works before the war, and is presently stationed on the outskirts of Cairo;

“I will endeavour to describe to you our visit to the native wedding which I told you about in my last letter, and must say we had a very fine time, which, no doubt you will gather when you have read what really transpired. I am sure lots would like to have the pleasure of seeing one of them. We left Cairo at 6.30 p.m., which place was reached at 7 p.m. On arrival we left the car, strolled down the road, and awaited the arrival of another car that would take us close to the village wherein the ceremony took place. This village, by name Talbieh, is situated midway between Giza and the Pyramids, ie., about six miles out of Cairo, and lies to the left of the main road to the Pyramids. Having reached the point where we intended alighting, the car stopped, and we were here met by Abdel-Magic Abood (the Dragoman, or guide, who gave us the invitation in the first place), and a number of other natives from the village. The road leading to the village runs through a cultivated area for about 200 yards, then come the native dwellings. These are built with mud-bricks and mostly stand about 12 feet high; they are thatched with palm leaves, maize branches, etc., thrown carelessly about, just sufficient to protect their occupants from the sun. There seemed to be hundreds in this little place huddled together, and the odour from them none too pleasant. We were, however, well fortified with cigarettes and tobacco, thus protected from attacks in this direction. We wended our way (headed by Abdel) through narrow unkempt passages, and finally came to the village green (?), a piece of ground in the centre of the village, set aside for these occasions. This, being a middle class man’s wedding, the decorations here were scanty. The square was set out with scaffold poles, from the tops of which little red flags and other minor decorations were displayed. Lamps also were numerous. The villagers, numbering 2-300, were seated in three rows round. We next entered through a gap at one corner, the way being cleared by Abdel, who had arranged for chairs and forms for us to be right in front of the show. Our pass-word was the usual “Siadeh” (how do you do). When we had settled, the entertainment began. A native girl, gaily dressed, danced to the music rendered by the native “orchestra,” much to the delight of the onlookers. While this was still going on, Abdel introduced us to the Omdeh (head of the village) and other notables. Later he informed us that lunch had been prepared. He then led us away to a little room (the cleanest in the village). This was probably a bedroom, as a bed had been tumbled into one corner. It was about 12 ft. square, and to reach it we had to pass through other native dwellings - dingy holes they were. In the centre was a round table, with a circumference of about 13 ft. Round this 12 chairs had been placed; they were for our little party, including Abdel. The table was covered with a white cloth, and a spoon, knife, fork and serviette, were provided for each one of us, with the exception of Abdel. In an adjoining chamber, the bride could be heard keeping company with other members of her sex until the time arrived when she would be wed (2 a.m.) the following morning. Picture us in this little room, which was comparatively clean, and standing round were several village notables, one or two natives to wait on us, and the cook. The lunch, as Abdel termed it, was now brought in. This consisted of fifteen courses served up in proper native style, as follows:-

Lamb’s foot soup. This was placed in the centre of the table. Abdel gave us the tip to take up our spoons and “be quick.”
Meat with macaroni. Placed as before, but this time our knives and forks came into play, and Abdel having no such utensils quickly tore the meat from the bones with his fingers.
Native salad. Similar to our own, but strongly seasoned.
Native bread. This is, in shape, like a pancake, but thick, and is dull brown in colour. It is made with crushed maize (flour), butter and water. To those not accustomed to it, it is rather sickly.
Roast meat. Similarly served, and same routine as in second course.
Savoury stew. With this our bread played an important part. We had to follow our leader’s example, i.e., break off a piece, double it so as to form a clip, and make a plunge into the tureen, taking as much as possible.
Minced meat in gherkins. At this point we were feeling somewhat satisfied, and I might say, were eating as it were, to oblige. However, we did our best, Abdel helping us out fairly well.
Sausages. These were about 2½ inches long, and are made with meat, etc., seasoned heavily. Little black objects. We had to “be quick,” so down went the sausage with a gasp.
Baked meat. This we dived for as before.
Another stew. This also was put away as in the sixth course.
Next came the sweets, and I for one was truly thankful.
Peaches and apricots (stewed). These were quite refreshing after the other various dishes; the others were quite good, but not exactly our style.
Sugar-cane pancake. In appearance this was very similar to a treacle pastry, but with this there was no pastry. It was very sickly, but we did not like to refuse, so did our best.
Pastry. Very sickly stuff, but no doubt very good to the natives.
Blancmange and rice. The blancmange was all right. The rice, I think, had been boiled in maize stalks, at least, this is how it was served up. It was a sloppy mess, and I would not like to say how I felt when I took my portion. However, once down (good luck for us) it settled.

At last we finished our lunch, and having thanked Abdel and the cook for the good meal prepared, we arose, taking with us our serviette, which was to serve as a towel. We were led back into a smaller room; here, two natives, each standing in rear of a bowl and holding a water vessel, poured water over our hands while we used the soap; thus cleaned, we dried on our serviettes.
After all this performance we wended our way back to the Square. The “band” was still playing and the girl dancing. When the dancing girl finished, two clowns gave an entertainment, which was indeed very funny. Abdel and one or two others acted as interpreters, and made the whole affair quite interesting. This performance was going to be on all that night and until 2 a.m. the next morning, when the bride would appear. Having to get back to our quarters, we left Talbieh at 11.20 p.m., thus concluding a most interesting evening. By the way, Abdel has been here again to-day to inform us that another wedding is taking place on Wednesday and Thursday this week, so I suppose some of us will be going to it. I have not yet received the parcel that you sent, but I got one from the Wolverton people the other day and have written to thank Mrs. Harvey for it to-day. You say in your letter you do not know what tobacco to send me; well, please don’t send me any at all, as I get bags of it here, thanking you all the same, but you quite understand it gets dry and there is the expense of it and the postage as well. We are getting some glorious weather still. It is just like a good old English summer weather now, with no rain. I still have my shower bath every morning and feel very fit still.”

NBT 1917 Mar. 13th Tue.

Mrs. A. Heasman, of Springfield, has received a letter from her husband, Private A. Heasman, saying that whilst in action a shell burst in front of him, and injured his face. He is now in a general hospital at Rouen. He enlisted in the Army some nine months ago, and has seen about four months of active service. Formerly he was employed at the Faith Press as a bookbinder.

NBT 1917 June 26th Tue.

H. Gerald Briggs has been serving with the Royal Fusiliers for the last two years, and his parents, Mr. and Mrs. H. Briggs, of “Villa Monceau,” Linslade, have received the following letter from the O.C., the Snipers Section;

“I have much pleasure in informing you that your son has been awarded the Military Medal for his gallant and courageous work during the fighting between April 23rd and 29th. During the attack on the 23rd, he located and effectively dealt with two enemy snipers who were proving very troublesome during a temporary hold up. When the objective was reached he undertook and carried through very valuable patrol work at great personal risk. He was always ready and willing to undertake any patrol work or sniping however difficult or dangerous, and proved himself to be a man of great courage and resource. I may add that the officers who were present all agree that his conduct was a very valuable example to all ranks. Please accept my most hearty congratulations.”

NBT 1917 July 10th Tue.

News has been received that Sapper Arthur Hounslow, of 56, Old Road, Linslade, is in hospital, having been slightly gassed several times, and struck in the back by a piece of trench mortar shell. He hopes to be sent to a convalescent camp soon.

NBT 1917 July 17th Tue.

From ‘somewhere in France,’ Sapper Arthur Hounslow, of 56, Old Road, Linslade, has written to his parents to say that he ‘got among the gas’ on several occasions. Instead of reporting sick, like some of the others, he tried to wear it off but gradually lost his appetite. He was then hit in the back by a piece of trench mortar, with the wound being attended to at a field dressing station. When they came out of the line for a rest, he went sick, but little thought that he would be kept and sent to hospital as a heart case. However, the doctors found nothing wrong and he is now being sent to a convalescent camp.

NBT 1917 Aug. 21st Tue.

Mrs. Beilby, of Pear Tree Cottage, South-Court, has received a letter from a comrade of her son in the Rifle Brigade:

“You will probably be expecting a letter from your son (Sergt. Charles Beilby) and I am writing to prevent disappointment. This afternoon he was preparing some grenades for practice and one or part of one burst in his hands, thus preventing him at present from writing. He is at present in excellent hands and I am sure he will not be long before he can explain better in person. There is absolutely no reason for you to get alarmed, as except for damage to his hands there are no other injuries. We are very sorry to lose him, as he is well liked by all the boys.”

He is at the 3rd Stationary Hospital, Frevent.

NBT 1918 July 2nd Tue.

Rifleman A.W. Sayell was taken prisoner at St. Quentin on March 21st, and in a letter to his parents, Mr. and Mrs. Sayell, of Springfield Road, Linslade, writes that he has been removed to Limburg Camp. After his capture he was marched for some distance, before being put on a train for Giessen, where he and his companions were held for three weeks. Up to present he has been well treated, and is receiving sufficient food. Parcels of bread have been received from the Prisoners of War Help Committee, and the Red Cross Society, including biscuits, cocoa, condensed milk, roast mutton, beef and dripping. In the same barracks he has met Horace Rollings, of George Street, Leighton Buzzard, who was captured having only just returned from leave. Rifleman Joe Woods, the son of Mrs. Woods, of Fern View, Springfield Road, who had been Rifleman Sayell’s companion since joining the Army, had been with him until they went to Giessen, but they have since been parted. As they are hardly doing anything, Rifleman Sayell says that time passes slowly, but they expect to be put to work soon.

NBT 1918 Dec. 3rd Tue.

From Dovercourt, Lance Corporal T.C. Bodsworth, 5th Worcester Regiment, writes to Mr. R.J. Platten;

“Since my return I have had the pleasure of seeing the German submarines brought in each day, and today 28 of the largest type have been escorted here. They are lying at Parkestone Quay, quite close to here. They are fine craft and must be the cream of the German Fleet. The officers and men on them looked very much down at the mouth at the thought of handing their ships over to us.”