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

In 1914 a soldier of the Black watch, formerly billeted in Bedford, writes to his old billet;

“One day some plucky survivor will write a book on ‘Army cooks,’ and a wonderful book it should be. No man is ever appointed cook in the Army on account of any knowledge or previous experience of cooking. Often the dirtiest looking man in the company is appointed, because the authorities feel that at any rate he can’t spoil a good tunic at his work. Sometimes a man is put on because he is a ‘hard case,’ merely because he doesn’t fall in very well with company work, but never because he can cook. Our first cook was a painter by trade, and when he considered the stew had been mixed to a good colour, it was served up, regardless of taste. But the M.G.S. cook’s genius lies in being a sort of Mr. Malaprop. Only a few days ago he told someone hotly that he wouldn’t ‘lower his dignity to do it.’ Another time he assured someone that he couldn’t ‘dissolve that mystery,’ and we all agreed that he was unconsciously comparing his problem with some of the soup compounds he is supplied with. But in times of great mental strain like those referred to he is always consoled by being told, ‘Cheer up, Sandy; if you were shot tomorrow for being a cook you would die innocent.’ He does very well for us, really, and stands any amount of chaff, and being one of the biggest men in the place he makes his final argument invariably: ‘There’s nane of ye can pit the cook oot the door, anyway.’ Which is final!”

The German hatred for the English is apparent in many of the letters sent to soldiers in the field. These extracts are from letters found on dead men: -
“Mülheim, 4-11-’14.
“Here in Mülheim everybody has been called out, right up to the Landsturm and the boys of eighteen. It is most interesting to visit Friedrichsfeld and to see the prisoners. There are said to be 20,000 there. Zousaves, Turcos, French, and then the long-legged Englishmen - this damned pack is to blame for everything. When they are transported they are put in closed cattle wagons. The way they are treated is much too good. They should be put against a wall. You write that you are only fighting against the English and have made 600 prisoners. Make them all into minced meat. They have earned nothing better.”
“Mülheim, 23-11’14.
“Everything is fearfully dear here. We should be glad to finish if only an honourable peace comes with it. A fearful lot of us must be falling, as everyone is being called out. Everything is all right, only God protect you from Russia. The poor soldiers don’t know what to do for the cold, and the Landsturm must go to Russia.
“The damned English! What are they doing with our prisoners? And we treat the swine-dogs so well! But soon it will be different. A train was to have come here with 340 English. The train arrived. The commander brought out 40 English. When he was asked where the 300 were he didn’t know where they had remained. I know better. That is what all should do.”

An impression of the conditions faced by the gallant 1st Beds. Regiment may be gained from this letter, sent home by a private in late 1914;
“We have just come out of the trenches, which are about seven or eight inches in water. We are plastered with mud from head to foot, wet through and can’t hold a limb still, but we are all right and very much alive. Our trenches are only about fifty yards from the Germans, and we keep shouting at each other, so you can understand we have some close shaves. Some of the poor chaps get killed everyday, and you don’t know if it’s your turn next. They say the Germans can’t shoot, but some of them - the snipers - would beat Bill Cody. The shells keep screaming over us and all around us and they regular shake the Heavens. It’s awful. It’s not war, it‘s murder. All around us lie dead Germans and Frenchmen. Cattle lie rotting and we daren’t get out to bury them. Trees, two feet through, are shot away like straws. Houses are smashed to ‘smithereens.’ Dogs, cats, fowls and pigs lie all over the place. It is a sight! I wish every able-bodied man in England would come out and sweep the Germans in front of them. As I write this the aeroplanes are chasing one another about. They look like flies, and the guns shoot shrapnel at them. It’s different altogether from the Boer War. The old soldiers say there is more shellfire here in one bombardment than there was altogether in the Boer War. The Jack Johnsons tear a hole in a granite road that you could get one of our cars in easily.” drop, but the excitement and the desire to drive the wretches back and back kept us going. When we stopped we knew we had done something big - but at what cost? We little knew at the time how we had suffered, but when we did we felt that those chaps who had laid down their lives had had at least a glorious moment before doing so.”

W.E. 1914 Sep. 25th

From Chelmsford, a Bucks Territorial writes;

“We are having a good time. Plenty of hard work. Three of the Aylesbury fellows have been guarding the Marconi Station each night. A number of us have been drafted to Purfleet.”

W.E. 1914 Oct. 9th

A letter sent to the Wolverton Express for publication;

“H.M.A.S. Australia,
Pacific,”
August 15th.

You will no doubt be anxious to know where we are, but we are still in the land of the living and hope to remain so. This week-end is the third we have been on this routine, the first week-end we were coaling ship in Sydney, and it was then we started to work in two watches, 4 hours on, and 4 hours off, and we are still the same and likely to be so for months to come, unless we can find these Germans pretty quickly. We left Sydney to proceed north August 4th, about 9p.m. at night, and as we left the “Encounter” gave us three cheers, and after them it was taken up by all the boats in the harbour, right out until we left Sydney Heads. We proceeded at 16 knots and with all lights out; this continued night and day, working during the day and keeping your watch at night. During the day we worked 4 hours on and 4 hours off, just the same at night, and I can tell you it is quite enough for any man to work like this for ten days at a stretch. During our run north, which has proved to be between 3,000 and 4,000 miles, we heard that war had been declared at home, so the Admiral thought he would proceed to German New Guinea and surprise them. We picked up the destroyers and the “Sydney” after 6 days run and they came along with us. Last Wednesday night the “Sydney” and the destroyers proceeded alone to a German harbour to try and get their three cruisers out, and we gave them such a cheer as they left us. You cannot imagine what the feeling is to cheer men on who are all strangers to you, and yet while you cheer a lump comes in your throat. The reason we did not go with them was in case the place was mined but we were within striking distance; but we kept watch all night, and to our disappointment the Germans were not there. After searching the island round about New Guinea we found our fleet very short of coal, and so we are on our way to a place called ----- to coal and oil ship. The “Melbourne” who is at that place now, captured a German collier with 5,500 tons of coal, and as our colliers are not due until next Wednesday we are in luck’s way. We are due there to-morrow, Saturday, so that will make the second week-end we have coaled ship out of three. When we reach this place we will have steamed close on 6,000 miles. I am now on watch from 8p.m. until 12p.m. and as it is probable a mail will leave next week, I am taking this opportunity of writing a few lines home; it may be weeks before I get another chance. As soon as we have coaled ship we proceed to a place called ----- on one of the French islands 2,000 miles away, and another coal ship at the end of it. Here the captain said would be some very interesting news for us, but he cannot divulge it at present, so that we have something in store for us. One thing is rotten, we don’t get any news from home, in fact we don’t know where the China Fleet is, owing to “wireless” not being used. You see if we used “wireless” we should be giving our position away and that would not do. The Pacific Ocean is a tremendous stretch to find German cruisers which are evidently hiding away. Our guns are 12 inch compared to theirs, which are 8 inch, so you see they are at a disadvantage as regards range; we could stand off at 3 miles and “plonk” away at them. We are all fit and well, but very tired owing to the watch-keeping which is not nearly finished until we find those beastly “Germans,” and when we do, they are in for a peppering you can bet. It is like looking for a needle in a haystack, to find cruisers in the Pacific.”

W.E. 1914 Oct. 30th

Dated October 16th, a letter has been sent by a member of the Bucks Territorials at Chelmsford to a friend in the locality. An extract reads;

“We are all merry and bright down here although having a hard time at drill and marching, etc. One parade we were out for 27 hours straight off. We marched for about 10 miles, and then dug trenches. We slept on the side of the road or in ditches and as it was an extremely frosty night it is needless to add that we were somewhat cold. On Wednesday (Oct. 14th) we were reviewed by the King in Hylands Park, Sir Gooch’s place. There were about 17,000 of us, including the Glo’sters, Warwicks, Royal Berks, and the Bucks, which make up the South Midland Brigade. The King complemented us upon our physique and appearance, and upon all sides the Bucks Battalion was acknowledged to be the fastest and best marchers seen for many a long day - which pleased us very much indeed. When we go for a Brigade march they put the Glo’sters, or some other regiment, in front, to lead, as we ‘kill’ them all when we really start to march. We have been for another long march to-day, and are all very tired.”

W.E. 1914 Oct. 30th

Many of the Wolverton recruits are undergoing training with the Oxon & Bucks Light Infantry, battalions of which are encamped at Purbrook Camp, Cosham, near Portsmouth. The following describes how the soldiers are entertained and catered for in the Y.M.C.A. tent;

“A stranger arrived one fine autumn afternoon on the outskirts of Purbrook Camp, where the men of the Oxford and Bucks Light Infantry and other regiments are encamped, and in reply to the sentry’s request, when he told him he had come to help in the Y.M.C.A. tent, he noticed his manner change from the formal official to one of cordial friendliness. Following the sentry’s directions, the stranger soon found the Y.M.C.A. tent, situated in a pleasant spot at a corner of the Downs, and close to a stately mansion surrounded by equally stately trees. After a few formal introductions he soon got to work at the Post Office counter, and it being pay-day for the soldiers he had a continual stream of requests for stamps, postal orders, brown paper, pens, etc., and when closing time (9 o’clock) came he found his takings were close on £40. Then comes “chicken drill,” which is the camp term for clearing up the rubbish on the floors and washing up the cups, etc., and these duties are almost invariably performed by a real live Marquis, who is one of the helpers. When all is cleared up, supper, a chat, and then “bed.” “Bed” consists of a few blankets and a camp sheet on the floor of a tent. The stranger is one of those told off to serve early coffee for the soldiers at 6 o’clock, so he rises at 5.30, and after coffee for the men and breakfast for himself, he takes charge of the refreshment and tobacco counter. “A squish and a wad” is one of the first requests he gets. He looks bewildered, and the soldier explains that he means lemonade and a dough nut. Likewise he receives demands for ‘five steps to heaven’ (cigarettes at 5 a 1d.), ‘shrapnel’ (rock cakes), etc. Occasionally, during a slack interval, he gets an opportunity of chatting with the soldiers, and he soon finds that the magic letters ‘Y.M.C.A.’ are a password to the soldiers’ affection, for he much appreciates the facilities provided for him by that world-wide Association. These facilities include free notepaper and envelopes, also newspapers and magazines to read - in fact, a soldiers’ club. Occasionally, as a counter attraction to the canteen, a ‘sing song’ is arranged in the tent, and many of the soldiers have splendid gifts as musicians and reciters. Local clergy and ministers sometimes give short friendly talks to the men, who seem to thoroughly appreciate them.”

W.E. 1914 Nov. 20th

A member of the 2nd Oxon and Bucks Light Infantry writes home from the Front;

“It is very cold out here now, and we have to sleep the best way we can - in trenches or anywhere. … We have been in hot places, too. The other day we made an attack on the enemy, and it was like going into Hell, as bullets and shells were going round us like rain. We lost a lot of men, killed and wounded, and the enemy lost over 1,000 besides wounded. The Oxford and Bucks are still in it, and giving them socks and driving them back. It would be a treat to get somewhere to have a wash and a change of clothing. … We have been living in the ground like rats, and having our food the best we can. We might be having a snap when a shell comes over and cuts the dirt all over the food; then we say something, I can tell you.”

W.E. 1914 Nov. 20th

Private S. Henson, C Company, Oxon and Bucks Light Infantry, is with the Expeditionary Force, and writes to the editor;

“Have just read about the Rev. H. Carter’s complaint about serving out rum to the British troops in France. My chums and myself think that he ought to come out to the trenches and stop in them for a week of nights and days, and see whether he would not be glad of a drop of rum, especially when it is raining and the water lies in the trenches and your feet are nearly frozen. We cannot run about here and sit over a fire and warm our toes. Hoping you will insert this in your paper, and oblige. Yours truly, Pte. S. Henson, and a few of the Oxford and Bucks Light Infantry who read the “Wolverton Express.”

W.E. 1914 Dec. 4th

From the Front, a private in the Oxon and Bucks Light Infantry writes to a friend in the locality;

“I am going along fine. Plenty of marching. Our regiment has just been relieved from the firing line. You can all be proud of your County Regiment, as they have proved to be second to none in the Army. They charged the Germans’ crack Guards Regiment, and smashed them completely. Killed about 800 in one charge. Things out here, and property, are in a dreadful state wherever the Germans have been.”

W.E. 1914 Dec. 11th

A Lance Corporal in the 2nd Oxon and Bucks Light Infantry, forming part of the 5th Brigade, 2nd Division, Expeditionary Force, writes;

“I am writing on behalf of the rank and file of the Oxfordshire and Bucks. Light Infantry, to thank all those who have so generously supplied the Regiment with cigarettes and many other useful presents since they have been on active service. I can safely say that the regiment more than holds it own as regards presents, which shows that the men of the Battalion are deep in the thoughts of the people of the two counties (Oxfordshire and Buckinghamshire), and I sincerely hope that that we shall all prove worthy of your generosity. As regards the cigarettes and tobacco, I can safely say it is the comforter for ‘Tommy’ while in the trenches. There is no doubt that there are a good many of you who say that ‘our boys on active service would like a smoke,’ but I don’t think any of you realise the value of a ‘fag’ or a pipe of tobacco to ‘Tommy’ while sitting in the trenches, waiting to hear the next ‘Jack Johnson,’ and wondering if it is going to drop in your trench; I really think that a smoke is as good as any nerve tonic to ‘Tommy.’ Well, I’m afraid I cannot say too much about the Regiment, but I am proud to say that we have done some splendid work out here, and have been complimented several times by our Generals. During an attack made by the Regiment an Officer of another Regiment was heard to remark that it couldn’t have been carried out any better on ordinary manoeuvres, while another remarked that ‘every man of the Oxford and Bucks deserves the V.C.’ Our losses have been very great, both in officers and men, but I am pleased to say we still have our Colonel with us, and I am sure we would be very sorry to lose him. Whether the war lasts long or not, I hope that in anything we are called upon to do, we shall do it with the same spirit as we have done up to the present, and keep up the name of the ‘good old 52nd.’”

W.E. 1914 Dec. 25th

A Lance Corporal of the Oxford and Bucks Light Infantry writes home to his parents, describing the movements of the County Regiment since it left England;

“I will tell you what I have been doing since I left England. We landed in France on August 14th and entrained up country to wait for the arrival of our cavalry and guns. We then started for Mons, arriving there for the big battle after a 36 miles march. Then came the retreat, which the Army did not like at all. Then all we could hear was “March, march, march,” but lately it has been “Charge, charge, charge.” During the retreat we were fighting rearguard actions and doing outpost duty at night. I think we covered some 141 miles in six days. Then came the fight that turned the Germans about, and on Sept. 7th we commenced to send them back as fast as they had come. Following this came the battle of the Marne, in which one of our officers and one man gained the Legion of Honour. We were in action several times during the advance. On Sept. 12 we took 124 German prisoners and killed five cavalry men. On the following morning the German guns let us “have it very hot.” Two of my comrades had their legs smashed next to me, and I was hit slightly on the back of the head. This was one of our worst days - it was at the battle of the Aisne. Then we went into trenches, in which we remained nearly a month. While there the Germans used to try and break our lines, but they did not succeed, and only lost thousands of men. Their guns must have fired millions of rounds. Later on we attacked, during which we lost 400 men and 11 officers killed and wounded. We “hung on” for three days, and were then relieved by the French. The number of dead Germans in front of the trenches was 740 - their wounded must have numbered two or three times as many. On Oct. 31 and Nov. 1 the Germans came up in thousands, and we had to charge them back and take the trenches. Amongst them were the Prussian Guards, men standing 6ft. 3in. and 6ft. 4in. In height, but the biggest lot of cowards I ever came across. I think we killed about 100 of them and took many prisoners. During this five weeks we had not a wash, shave, nor had we taken off our boots. Up to the present two of our Regiment have gained the French Legion of Honour, five officers have won the D.S.O.and three men the D.C.M. Our Regiment has been praised by the General, but we are led by Captain Dillon - a better officer never lived. Our Regiment has seen as much fighting as any one here.”

A card written by a wounded German prisoner, dated January 25, 1915, is an interesting commentary on the above letter, and is a reply to the query “What are the English doing with our prisoners?”

“I was wounded this morning in an attack, and was captured by the English. Those of the company who are not dead are prisoners. Am treated very well, so don’t worry at all. Our lieutenants were also taken prisoners. I feel well. Tell my relatives.”

A ‘Tommy’ describes how he and his comrades celebrated the Kaiser’s birthday;

“On January 27th, 1915, the Emperor’s birthday was celebrated by a salute from some of our guns of several rounds of lyddite fired against a house in the neighbourhood of Messines, much used by the enemy. At first the occupants of the place were seen to be running in all directions. Then the whole building blew up, and there followed a “feu de joie” of smaller explosions, the house apparently having been used as a magazine for bombs and grenades. It was felt by the troops that this display of fireworks was a fitting celebration of the day. On the right our troops gained a little ground. In the same quarter our snipers were very successful, and our guns caused the evacuation of a saphead by the enemy. Otherwise there was no action of note.”

From a Bucks Yeoman, in the fighting at Chocolate Hill;

“A group of men were drawing water when the enemy placed a shell right in the middle of them. When the dust cleared away we could see they were probably all right, as the shell did not burst, though one man was on the ground, but he soon raised himself and signalled a ‘miss’”

In 1915 Lance Corporal Frank Griffin is serving in Egypt with the motor transport, and writes to a friend in Linslade;

“The weather here seems to be getting warmer every day. Last Thursday it was 112 degrees in the shade and 130 degrees in the sun, so you can guess what it’s like out here. Some of the fellows who wear short knickers have got their knees skinned through being exposed to the sun. My face and neck are “slightly” tanned. It’s a real treat to go bathing in the sea, where it is so much warmer than at the seaside places in England. We get good living here; bacon and eggs for breakfast, roast beef for dinner, followed by rice pudding and stewed figs. I have seen George Richards several times lately; he was camped quite close to me for a time. I have seen young Page from Wing, two or three more Linslade fellows and Dennis Horne. What a lot of accidents are happening round about Leighton, the Leighton paper seems full of them. We have been busy lately with the lorries, and I would like to say more about things but we are not allowed to say too much. I don’t know how long we’ll be here. We might go any day or we might stay for the duration of the war. I have heard from the President of the L.M.M. The surroundings here seemed very strange at first, but I have got quite settled down to them now. There is plenty of sand blowing about. What makes the weather so much warmer on some days than on others is because the wind blows from off the desert instead of the sea. When the breeze changes and blows from the sea it’s much cooler.”

Serving at the front with the Beds. Yeomanry, in August 1915 ‘a Bedfordshire boy’ writes home about his experiences;

“It is no picnic out here; quite different from what our duties were in England. All round where we are now, every village home is laid waste by shells. Since we have been here we have done little besides trench digging behind the firing line and in front of our guns, so you may guess we get some “music.” As a matter of fact, the place often shakes from the bombarding of our guns, and the return shells of the Germans. The village near to us is blown to atoms. I am one of the cooks for our Squadron, and the other day we had to run and leave all when the Germans sent some ‘fiz-bangs’ over, and jump into the trenches quick. These shells do not let us know when they are coming until they explode and have somebody, but shrapnel and high explosives whistle for a long time before they drop, and so give us time to get out of their way. It is a sight to see their ‘coal boxes’ and ‘Jack Johnsons’ burst. We are relieved about every ten days. Some of the men stay behind to look after the horses, about 20 miles away, and then they come up and the diggers retire. All the cavalry are with us. We go with the 15th and 19th Hussars, and the last time we relieved the Household Cavalry and Lancers. All last night (15th August) the German rifle and maxim fire kept us awake. The aerial torpedoes are the worst things to our men.”

In September 1915 a South Bedfordshire soldier writes home about conditions at the Dardanelles;

“The flies here are an absolute pest, and one cannot enjoy a meal in peace. It’s a case when you have breakfast or tea of having either biscuits, jam and flies or flies, biscuits and jam.”

In October 1915 Sergeant W.E. Tingey, Beds. Yeomanry, writes home to say that they have been on the march for three nights, after ‘the glorious success’ in which a “rare mess of the enemy was made, the Yeomanry forming part of the Reserve, and standing by to follow up the attack.” “We had 700 German prisoners brought in during the night. I have just been watching the procession. They look as though they have had a rough time, but wore a contemptuous grin as if to say they were out for a good time. We passed thousands of infantry of different regiments on the road, who cheered us as we passed, but who are eager for us to leave some Germans for them to pot at. From what I saw of the prisoners today they are not such weaklings as people think, but quite the contrary - they are sturdy, rough-looking, beggary.”

Having been at the Front, Gunner G.R. Wright, 25th Battery, R.F.A., 7th Division B.E.F. is presently in England, and regarding the fighting for one of the northern ridges writes in 1915 to a local friend;

“We made a quick move to the ridge, and dug ourselves in before daylight, leaving three guns 25 yards down the crest. There we waited for the oncoming Germans. The heavy guns opened first then all the guns let loose. It was worse than anything I ever heard before. As the day rolled on it grew fiercer and fiercer, our infantry going it for all they were worth. At dusk we got two guns to the crest so we had a better view of things. They came up in such overwhelming numbers that they pushed our infantry back behind the guns. We were firing point blank at close range. Our infantry held on doggedly, rallied and went to the attack each time the enemy was mowed down. How our guns stood it I don’t know, they had just over 600 rounds each. Through them the dead Germans were piled up three or four feet high over the whole front. We received orders to retire, it was impossible to hold the position against such odds, eight Divisions to one. I hope if any of our single men who are knocking around, “slackers” as they are called, will realise how hard it comes on us who are trying to save our Country’s honour. If it had not been for the 4th Division’s brave deeds at Ypres the Germans would have been in Calais long ago.”

W.E. 1915 Apr. 9th

On April 3rd, Lance Corporal A. Bruce, Machine Gun Section, 1st Bucks Battalion, South Midland Infantry Brigade, B.E.F., writes;

“Just a line to let you know I am fit and well. I can’t tell you a lot, we are not allowed to say where we are or a good lot of what we see. As you may guess from the state of this letter it is raining, but up to to-day we have had very fine weather, fairly hot. We have been here three days, but we shall soon move; we are not a great way off the firing line here, and can hear the guns quite plainly; aeroplanes are almost as numerous as birds. I noticed one thing while out to-day, little boxes with a statue in and some shells stuck in the side with lots of wooden crosses in the ledge, there are no end of them about. I guess it has to do with their religion. I don’t know if you have seen any when knocking about this country. I notice another thing here, that if you go in anywhere for tea or coffee, or beer, they give it you in a basin. I haven’t seen a cup since I have been here; the beer though is not worth having, it is like spoilt water. I bet a halfpenny, that is quite sufficient for me, no fear of getting drunk, as I can’t drink it. We had one bottle of wine for 10d, and that was fairly good; the corks that are put in the bottles are bad. One of our chaps put a bottle in his pocket, and it all came out and soaked his clothes - this made a bit of fun. I don’t know if it is the change or not, but I would as soon be here as at Chelmsford, if not better. We had a jolly good crossing, only it took all night; we came in a cattle boat on account of our horses, the accommodation was not very grand for us, but still we can’t expect a first class cabin, etc., for each man. Travelling up on the railway we were about 40 in a truck; like the same trucks we were in holds just eight horses, so you can guess we did not have a lot of room to spare. We were in the train abut 36 hours, quite long enough. I can’t say where I am, but you can guess, I dare say. The cigarettes here are like smoking carpet; I don’t know what the tobacco is like; I am getting some this afternoon most likely. We are not allowed in the town here, which is about 1 mile away.”

W.E. 1915 Sep. 17th

A Pen Picture from the Front.

(An autumn evening and night in a trench in a quiet part of the Front.)

“My trench is a yard and three-quarters wide. It is of brown clay, and a sap runs out to the German lines. To-night I am on “look-out,” mounted on an earthen step in the trench, with my head and shoulders above it, so that I can see the German lines 480 yards distant. Barbed wire entanglements protect them and the mine also. Between, rises rank grass, with waving poppies and cornflowers. The air is hot, but the evening is fairly pleasant; birds circle round. Suddenly a monoplane appears, and the Germans fire at it; they don’t hit it, but a bullet sings past me, making a dust. If the Germans hit all they try to, oh, dear! Puffs of smoke and muffled bangs sound every few minutes, and some of our fellows are putting whizzers into the German observation post. We don’t want snipers up there, if we know it, not likely. Guns begin again, roars come from behind the enemy’s lines, shells fall fifty yards to my right. They didn’t go off, lucky for us! Tell some more boys to hurry up and come out. Plenty of smokes out here, black smokes, brown smokes, grey smokes; but they may bring a few extra. A cigar would be delicious. When a glorified bomb comes our way, I duck. I’ve a jagged piece of one, kept as souvenir for “Chris.” The ’plane went safely over. It was ours. I saw; then our artillery began again to answer some Teutonic efforts with shrapnel. Shots entered the enemy’s trench - great joy in our sap! Hours pass, and it gets dark, but a searchlight splits up the blackness. A cough. Red lights and green lights flash like firework exhibitions. Then on the air comes a yelling and a cheering, and I recognise the English cheer of triumph. In the cool, grey dawn, I retire to my dug-out for my turn of rest, and after writing the pen-picture sleep soundly until once more called to duty - to do more if my chance comes. I hope it soon will.”

Having been wounded at the Battle of Loos, Private Jack Davis, of the 10th York and Lancaster Regiment, is at the Middlesex Hospital, London, from where he writes in October 1915 to ask every young man who is fit to answer the call to arms;

“All we want is more men, and the war will soon come to an end. We have got the Germans on the run, and they are in a tight corner; they are beaten at their own game. I tell you all, my boys, the Germans can’t fight when it’s man to man, and they see that bit of steel. They put up their hands and cry for mercy, and they get it, I don’t think. Can any young man with a spark of English blood in his body stay at home and see the crimes the Germans are doing? The sinking of the Lusitania, and then last week the cold-blooded murder of that brave nurse who helped to nurse the German wounded, and was then shot in cold-blood. Well, my young men, let us not speak, but act; we have seen the full force of the enemy; let us not rest until we have sent the Kaiser and his cold-blooded murderers to their everlasting home.”

NBT 1915 Oct. 12th Tue.

The people and customs of the native population of Egypt are interestingly described in this letter, from Private F. E. Griffin, a well-known local athlete. He is serving with the Motor Transport in Egypt, and in September 1915 writes to his sister;

“The girls out here are mostly French, Italian, Greek, Egyptian and Syrian, and have dark flashing eyes and nut brown complexions. The Egyptian women are very stout and big; they don’t pull themselves together a bit. The better class are smarter and wear little white veils across the lower half of the face with the top of the veil just over the tip of the nose and covering the mouth and neck up, leaving their dark eyes and marble foreheads clear. They wear a sort of black silk gown which looks lovely. Their weddings are carried out in funny style. The bride and bridegroom don’t see each other for so many days after they are married and the carriage in which the bride goes to be married in is closed in everywhere so that she cannot be seen. A band goes in front and kicks up an awful noise. At a funeral the women all walk behind the coffin and scream, making a terrible noise, and on the coffin, at the end where the head is, is placed a pole with a little red cap at the top. There is also a band at the funeral, and on the black horses are black covers trimmed with gold braid.”

In November 1915, one of ‘Kitchener’s men,’ who was in training at Halton Camp last summer, writes;

“We had prepared ourselves for a considerable amount of trench work in France, but from what Colonel ----- told me I began to get an idea that we were in for some fun. Fun! You cannot realize what it was like. We had heard a great deal about the lack of shells and heavy explosives before we went out, but when our guns commenced the bombardment that literally blew the Germans to ----- there was no sign of it. The crash and boom of the guns was simply deafening, and was so continuous that it was difficult to know where we were. But then came that order that meant so much to us. Quietly and without any fuss it ran along our lines, and with a tingling sensation of the unknown in front of us we patiently waited. When our fellows got away there was no holding them. Into the German trenches they literally threw with those fearsome yells we practiced at Halton. What a charge, what excitement, what life! It was grand. In some cases we had a difficulty with the enemy, but frequently they appeared scared out of their lives, and in many cases held up their arms in surrender. We went on and on until it seemed as if we would drop, but the excitement and the desire to drive the wretches back and back kept us going. When we stopped we knew we had done something big - but at what cost? We little knew at the time how we had suffered, but when we did we felt that those chaps who had laid down their lives had had at least a glorious moment before doing so.”

W.E. 1915 Feb. 26th

An N.C.O. with the Royal Bucks Hussars writes from “Somewhere in Norfolk”;

“We are getting along very well, and horses and men are looking very fit. It is very cold; at times we get those nasty east winds, and they simply go through you. We have not had any more Zeppelins over here since the last raid. They came over our village, but thinking not to disturb us, very obligingly kept on their way. We were out on patrol for several nights afterwards through it; and everyone had “something strong” to say about the old Kaiser. However, we have settled down again to our regular routine. There are no signs of our moving at present.”

(The regiment has been mainly recruited from the sons of farmers and tradesmen.)

W.E. 1915 Apr. 16th

The First Battalion of the Buckinghamshire Territorials, who have been billeted in Chelmsford since last August, are now ‘Somewhere in France.’ They are commanded by Lieutenant Colonel Doig. Several communications have now been received from the men;

March 31st “We reached here, ‘somewhere in France,’ quite safely after a good voyage. It is very cold indeed here, and has been snowing heavily.”

April 3rd “Glorious weather; like Midsummer. We are within sound of the heavy guns - at least we are given to understand that the dull and continuous “boom” we hear a way off comes from where our Artillery are busily engaged.”

In a letter received last Friday morning, one of the men writes home;

“We are all in the best of spirits. We have moved along ‘some way’ now, but of course I cannot say where we are. Our sleeping accommodation is on straw in barns - and very comfortable too. We are able to get hot coffee from various places as we pass, but what we miss are the ‘smokes.’ The tobacco and cigarettes here are vile, and we are anxiously awaiting consignments of these from home.”

Letters sent to the men should be addressed;
No. 1 Bucks. Battalion,
1/1 South Midlands Infantry Brigade,
The British Expeditionary Force,
c/o General Post Office,
London.

“We are sure the good wishes of all Bucks people will accompany the Battalion in the work which lies before them. We confidently anticipate they will do both themselves and the county they represent the greatest honour and credit. They have gone out with full approval of Lord Kitchener himself, who twice inspected them, and expressed his satisfaction at their bearing and general all round appearance.”

B.S. 1915 Apr. 17th

In a letter on Monday, at mid day Mr. and Mrs. Charles Holland, of Chicheley Road, Newport Pagnell, received the news that their eldest son, Private William Holland, had been killed in action. Aged 24, he was a member of the G Company of the Wolverton Detachment of the Bucks Territorial Force, and in the letter the chaplain intimated that Private Holland had been killed by shrapnel on April 9th, whilst engaged in trench digging some 1,000 yards from the firing line. He was buried according to Church of England rites in the garden of a Monastery. His parents had only recently received a letter from their son, in which he said that they were gradually nearing the firing line, and could plainly hear the guns. The Bucks Territorials had crossed to France two weeks ago, and in a post card to his parents Private Holland wrote “It is cold here, and keeps trying to snow.” Before the mobilisation of the Territorial Forces he had been employed in the Body Shop at the Wolverton Carriage Works, where he had served his apprenticeship.

B.S. 1915 Apr. 24th

The son of a prominent tradesman of Newport Pagnell is serving with the Bucks Territorials, and has written regarding his initial experience of life at the front. The following is extracted from his letter of April 6th, penned after his arrival in France;

“We went a long journey by train, and were billeted at a farm house till Easter Sunday. On that day we had the most impressive Holy Communion service I have ever attended. It was held in a large barn. Five or six empty biscuit boxes at one end made a little altar, which the chaplain, who came on horseback - to my surprise it was the Rev. Helm, chaplain to the South Midland Brigade, who invited me to tea at Chelmsford, and recognised me at once - covered with a white linen cloth, and set up a little wooden cross and altar vessels. It was impressive; about 100 of us kneeling down in the hay with our rifles in our hands and our equipment on our backs. It was a Communion service I shall never forget. Easter Sunday afternoon we marched 7 miles and were again billeted in the buildings of a farm house, and have been most comfortable and warm on nice clean straw. … Many thanks for such a splendid basket of good things; they were immensely enjoyed by myself and a few of the best of good pals. I should have liked you all to see our little tea party to-day, sitting in the open air, and enjoying the good things in the basket. We get plenty of good, wholesome food, and I quite expect I shall get as fat as the fat boy we saw at Barnum’s. One of the most wonderful sights we see here is the way the enemy shell our aeroplanes. Our men sail along calmly through the air, and the Germans send shell after shell after them. The shells burst like little puffs of smoke - like cotton wool; this, on a clear day with a blue sky, is a most wonderful sight. But the shells seem a long, long way off the air-bird-man, who does not seem to trouble in the least: he sails backwards and forwards over the enemy’s lines with no doubt a smile on his face. Some of our fellows have received letters saying their wives and friends have had news that they are hurt, & c. For instance, my pal, Jack Griffith, showed me a letter from his wife to-day actually saying she heard I had been wounded. I do hope you will not worry, and that you will believe no ‘yarns’ you hear unless they are official.”

On April 14th, from ‘somewhere in France’ he writes;

“The food is very good indeed, and we get plenty, but things like candles, matches, condensed milk, cocoa essence, and bovril cubes are invaluable in the trenches.”

The brother of the previous writer has been in France for several weeks, serving with the Oxon and Bucks Light Infantry, and in a letter dated April 11th he congratulates his father on joining the Defence Corps. He hopes that he has received his rifle, “as out here it is one of the best friends we have, and a lot hangs to it being clean and the bolt action free from grit so that we can do a bit of rapid firing when wanted. I am writing this in a ruined farm house - no one except soldiers are in the village, and there is not a house that is not knocked to bits more or less. I am sitting on the floor and writing this on a biscuit tin. We are having a day’s rest in reserve, and go back to the trenches to-night. Although in reserve we are in easy range of the enemy’s rifle and artillery fire - but we are alright. I hear that the Bucks Territorials are out in France, and I should like to see ----- (his brother) and if I get so much as half a chance of hearing where he is I shall try and get leave to visit him. I am sure you would laugh to see me seated on the floor smoking a big cigar. This farm had a big tobacco plantation on it, and the tobacco hangs up drying in the barn, and a man has just made me a lovely cigar; he knows how to make them, having been in Cuba. We had a church service, followed by Holy Communion, on Easter Sunday. This took place in a ruined chateau that must have been a grand old house before it was ruined. It is said that 32 persons were killed by the shelling of it”

W.E. 1915 May 7th

News has been received that Sergeant F. Beckley, of the Bucks Territorials, died in hospital on Saturday, April 24th, from a wound received the previous day. A member of the Chesham Company of the Bucks. Territorial Force, he had been in a mined farm, standing in reserve with his company. The farm was under fire, and Sergeant Beckley was hit by a bullet which passed right through his body. On reaching the dressing station, when told by the Chaplain that he was dying he said “I am not afraid: far better for it to be me than a married man.” His platoon commander described him as “absolutely without fear, always useful, always ready to help.” He was 23 years of age, and had been promoted to sergeant at Chelmsford, prior to going to the Front.

W.E. 1915 May 7th

A local man serving in the Bucks Territorials writes to his parents;

“We now feel quite at home in the extraordinary life we lead. Only a few weeks ago, had we been told what we should be doing now in ‘cold blood’ we could not have believed it. There is one thing in our favour. We are well-officered by men in whom we have confidence. I believe one of them has returned home through some slight injury, but I do not think he was wounded.”

W.E. 1915 May 7th

Another man writes to his parents;

“You say you have sent me a large parcel. Well, it has not arrived, and I don’t suppose I shall now receive it. When you send me anything, do so in small parcels and by post.”

W.E. 1915 May 7th

Writing to thank some of his workmates, a sergeant says;

“Thanks ever so much for your good wishes and the cigarettes, which were most welcome. English smokes are scarce out here, and we have not yet got the taste of the French ones. I cannot tell you all the news I should like to owing to the Censor, but we have had two turns in the trenches, and they were most exciting. The officer in charge told me we had had more experience in two days than most regiments got in six months. You may guess our baptism was a stiff one, but the boys were exceptionally plucky, and stood it well. On our first day we blew up 100 yards of the German trenches, which were only 35 yards from our own. The debris came over us, and dropped from a tremendous height, and slightly wounded two of my section. Several pieces hit me, but did not hurt.”

W.E. 1915 May 7th

A member of the Bucks Territorials writes on April 22nd;

“We are now in the trenches, and have got our own lines. I am writing in my dug-out, which is snug, though small. It is about 5ft. square, and 3ft. high, so can hardly be called roomy, though with straw and blankets I manage to get quite comfortable, and sleep like a top for the few hours a day I can get. The lack of sleep is the chief discomfort: otherwise we are quite happy. We cannot get any sleep at night, and only snatch a few odd hours in the daytime. There are many more dangerous places than the actual trenches, as, unless they pitch a shell right in the trench, you are quite well protected from shell fire, and as long as you don’t stick your head over the parapet too long in the daytime, they cannot touch you with a rifle. The Germans opposite us are a quiet lot. They were shouting to us last night, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying, though some of my platoon are convinced they were shouting ‘Hullo, Bucks!’”

W.E. 1915 May 7th

An N.C.O. writes to his friends;

“I am writing this in the trenches. We were on all day yesterday (April 20th), and all night, so you can tell we have plenty of work. I managed to snatch a few hours’ sleep before breakfast, and have now just come off sentry for a short time. The Germans were rather quiet yesterday, but this morning the beggars have got their hair off, and are trying to make things warm for us. Our Artillery dropped a few shells near their trenches yesterday, which I expect caused it.”

W.E. 1915 May 7th

In a letter to his mother, one of the Bucks men writes;

“I received your parcel with many thanks, and it came in very handy, as I was in the trenches when I received it. I have had ----- days in the trenches so far, and am now out on ----- days’ rest not far behind the line. It was not bad after the first night, but before that it was a bit nervy. I have had a few pot shots at the top of the German trench, but I do not know if any hit. You never see a German, as they have loopholes about a foot down the parapet. We have no loopholes, as they are very dangerous, because the enemy have so many snipers, and they would make a mark of every loophole we had. At night both sides send up flares to see what is going on, and, of course, when they send one up we all duck, and I suppose it is the same with them when we send one up. Our trenches are not far from the German trenches - only about 80 yards. I heard them talking and singing quite plainly. The gun I am on has a nice dug-out. There are seven of us, and it just holds five comfortably, the other two being on sentry duty over the gun. While in the trenches we cook all our own food in buckets, with holes in the sides, and I can assure you we make ourselves quite at home. The food is all in tins, even the vegetables. Sometimes we have bread, but if there is none we have the Army biscuit which nearly breaks your teeth when you bite it. I would much rather you send me parcels than money, as we are near no shops now, and we are paid now and again when the Paymaster is paid. The best things to put in the parcel are coffee, tinned milk (they never give us ??? And tea goes down rotten without it), chocolate, matches, cigarettes, and cakes or vegetables. Of course, not all these at once, they want varying. At present I am short of soap and matches.”

W.E. 1915 May 14th

Written on May 2nd, a postcard has been received from Sergeant George Waller, who is at the Front with the 1st Bucks Battalion, Oxon and Bucks Light Infantry;

“All the boys are in the best of health. We are having plenty of hard work and plenty of good, wholesome food to do it with. I can honestly say, our Battalion is doing first class, especially the local lads. You might thank all the kind Wolverton friends for the different parcels they have so kindly sent to their boys. My lads have asked me to write to you so that you could insert their hearty thanks in your paper. There is one little favour I should like you to do for the boys, and that is, could you see if any kind friend, among your readers, will send to us a mouth organ to accompany our songs (in key G.)

The postcard bears the signature of Captain G. Bowyer.

W.E. 1915 May 14th

Extracts from letters sent home by men of the Bucks Territorials;

“Those who have not actually experienced the conditions as they exist in France at the present time can have little idea of the weird mixture of peace and war with which we occasionally meet. For instance, after spending several hours under a heavy shell fire, which, fortunately for us, failed to do any damage, the evening came, and with it a total cessation of the bombardment. We lay quietly in our trenches in the coolest hours of the day and witnessed some extraordinary sights. In the far distance could be seen old men and women working in the fields, actually within a short distance of the danger zone, and from some neighbouring trees, which had escaped the shell fire, was presently heard the familiar song of the nightingale. We might have been reclining in a peaceful shaded spot, instead of being within reach of the fire from the big German guns.”

On April 30th another of the Territorials writes;

“I think we leave the trenches to-morrow for several days’ rest. We had a very hot fifteen minutes this afternoon, 67 shells in that time dropping all around us, but fortunately they did not do much damage. … The weather is terribly hot just now. We are in “dug-outs,” which are very comfortable. We shall be thankful when the war is over. It is a terror, and unless one is out here one cannot realise the awfulness of everything.”

In another letter, a soldier describes the trenches;

“These are now quite dry and roomy. The barricades are six or seven feet high, and built up of sandbags, so that one is able to walk about in comparitive safety if a good look out is kept for low places. Dug-outs are built in the side of the trenches, and accommodate three to eight men, and those having boarded floors are very cosy.”

A Lance Sergeant writes;

“We are going up every four days to the trenches, having four days in and four out for rest and general wash-up. The first time we went in we got it jolly warm, with some heavy shelling, etc., but since we have had it more quiet, and are now getting used to it. We get our rest at farm houses, and sleep in the barns. At the houses we can buy eggs, milk, and coffee, which helps to make a little change; although, except bread we get enough food. You cannot imagine how things really are here; the villages and towns have been terribly knocked about. We have to practise bomb throwing in our spare time, to prepare for when the attacks are made. Ours is an advanced post, and I cannot tell you where, but guess we shall remain here some time yet. Our trenches are about 100 yards from the Germans, and we very often hear them singing. Of course, we give them a few songs, too. At night we have to keep more quiet and sleep (if we get any) outside, and have a bit during the day. When we get back to the barns it’s grand to get between the straw, and we generally have a sing-song just before we go to sleep.”

Another of the Bucks Territorials writes;

“The last three weeks have undoubtedly been the most exciting I have experienced. I have had the most terrible night I have ever had last night. I formed one of a working party, and we had to build up the parapet of the fire trenches in a certain place infested with snipers. It was as dark as pitch, and pouring in torrents. Every few minutes the Germans would send up a flash-light, which illuminated the whole show, and then fire at whatever they saw. We were fully exposed to the enemy, and the bullets whizzed over our heads. Of course I cannot give you any idea of our movements. It is pretty safe in the trenches as long as you keep your head down. Some of the chaps have got wooden platforms to walk on, but I have been knee deep in mud and water. Being under shell fire is the worst.”

A Wolverton private writes on May 2nd;

“The country out here begins to look better now and the trees are getting a few leaves on, only the wrecked houses and property and the noise of battle spoils all. We had a nice church service last Sunday in the open air, and Holy Communion followed. I attended both. It cheers one up to have a little service now and then. You see we do not quite live like heathens, although we are living a rough life in other ways. There are plenty of little bits of garden behind the trenches which might be done if we - or rather some of the gardeners - wanted a little extra work, only it would be very ??? Doing it, and the things would come up I am sure much quicker than ???”

W.E. 1915 May 21st

By June 1915 the Royal Bucks Hussars Regiment was stationed at Churn, on the Berkshire Downs, and a letter from a member of the Royal Bucks Hussars summarises their work since leaving England;

“We safely arrived in Egypt, and were not at all sorry to be off the boat. We left Malta on a Saturday afternoon, and as we left the French warships dipped their flags and turned out the guard, and there was a scene of great enthusiasm. We did not know where we were going, but it eventually turned out to be Alexandria.” After describing the voyage of the next three days he continues; “Wednesday was a very busy day. First the horses were taken off the boat, and we left for camp at 5.30. The Colonel sent our section on to find our way, and then to guide the remainder. Where we are encamped is a field or enclosure, but there is no grass, only sand! sand!! sand !!! Nothing but sand, except a few palm trees in the distance. We are not far off the centre of the town, in the French quarter. The place is not at all bad, considering everything. The language is mostly French and Arabic, but some of the natives can speak English.” He then continues describing the manners and customs of the people, and the shipping that he saw in the harbour.

Another writes;

“Cairo is an extraordinary place. The number of different nationalities to be seen everywhere, the native bazaars - so attractive to those who don’t mind being politely swindled - and the occasional influx of Turkish prisoners, all go to add to the interest of those who have never previously left their native shores.”
The Regiment is presently in barracks, made comfortable after a few days by the strenuous clearing away of rubbish left by native troops. Many have taken the opportunity to visit the pyramidsand other sights, but as one trooper writes;
“The life is all right in its way, but it is not war; and the sooner we move off to where we know we are going, the better.”

W.E. 1915 May 21st

Extracts from letters sent by men of the Bucks Territorials;

A member of D Company writes;

“I am writing a few of my experiences out here on different occasions. We have had some anxious times, I can assure you. What with shell and rifle fire, it has been very lively. But I am pleased to say we have all been very lucky so far to come off with such a small number of casualties. On one occasion a large number of shells were bursting all around us, but no one was hurt. We are now back on our four days’ rest from the trenches, when we return once more. The Germans are very “hot stuff” with their rifle fire, especially the snipers. Had I not seen it I should never have believed the damage the Germans had done by the shelling of their big guns. For those natives of France and Belgium who have suffered from it it is real cruelty. I am pleased to say all our chaps are in the best of spirits and health.”

Another of the Bucks Territorials writes;

“As you may guess, things are very different to when we were in Chelmsford. There are no nice beds, but beautiful barns. It was a treat to get clean straw, but we can sleep anywhere when we are tired. When we are in the trenches we are only about 150 yards away from the Germans, and the first time we went in we were only forty yards away. You had to keep your head down I can assure you. Some people say the Germans cannot shoot, but I beg to differ. It is shameful to see ruined houses and churches, and the thought which strikes us here is that we should be thankful that our homes are intact.”

A private writes on May 3rd;

“We had a very exciting time on the last occasion, as our artillery and that of the Germans kept up a constant duel. The havoc wrought by the shells is something awful, but it takes a very short time for the English to silence the German batteries. In a few hours the enemy sent more than a hundred shells across, no doubt costing hundreds of pounds, and yet the damage done was infinitesimal.”

In a letter to his father, an officer of the Bucks Territorials writes;

“Nothing happened while we were in the trenches. We made the capture of a dog which we had seen wandering about between the trenches, and thought it might have been there to spot any patrols there might be about; but I just think it was one left at a farm. The poor thing is very frightened at the firing, and spends his time in a small dug out we have made. I tried to take it for a run behind our trench, but it darted for the dug out at the first shot.” Mentioning the splendid weather at present, the writer continues; “I heard the nightingale when coming in from the trenches. There are also partridges between the trenches, and they call every night. I am rather surprised at these birds being there. At the moment they are shelling a ruined cottage about 200 yards behind us, and are making quite decent shooting at it.”

Under the post date May 4th, a Territorial writes;

“We are just having a short rest after a spell in the trenches, which, of course, is regarded as a bit of a treat; although a rest here is a bit different to one in England. Out here there are always certain troops in fatigue, which means that in their rest time they are engaged in conveying food to the men in the trenches, sandbag filling, etc., so you will see that it is not such a rest after all. Although I am unable to mention any names, I am sorry to say that we lost a few of our fellows during our last spell in the trenches. You will probably hear who they are in a few days. Of course, life in the trenches is fairly safe provided one keeps his head low, but immediately anything is seen by the enemy above the top of our parapet, bullets begin to fly over until further orders. During the daytime, instead of running the risk of looking over the top, we are supplied with periscopes, which enable us to watch the enemy’s trench without any personal danger. It is quite a common thing to look through the periscope for hours on end without seeing any sign of life, although bullets are whistling over practically all day long. That is because they (the enemy) , instead of firing over the top, fire from concealed loopholes, and of course, their snipers have to be contended with. So you will realise now why one has to keep low.”

On May 3rd a member of the Bucks Territorials writes;

“We are out of the trenches again for a few days, and have come back to the farms. We were out last night trench-digging behind the firing line, and got back at 3a.m., dead tired. We are not going out to-night, and I am going to hear the Bishop of Pretoria. We had a harder time in the trenches this time, as we were short of men, but the food was a lot better. It was very hot some of the time, and we discarded our jackets in the daytime. We usually have steak and chipped potatoes for dinner. Not bad! The last day we were in there was a lot of shelling, and the Germans put 69 shells into the wood just behind us in a quarter of an hour. They say that the total weight of the shells was about 7,000lbs.; they did not do any military damage. I hope our shells are not wasted in the same way. About tea-time the Germans put four shells over to a farm, about 150 yards behind us, and wounded one of the Bucks. One could tell the shells were low - they whistle so, and we thought we were in for it, but it was not so. The Artillery is always active, either close to where we are, or on the flanks. It gets on one’s nerves to be in the trenches, and it’s a great relief in that way to get back into billets. I should not take any notice of rumours about us. We shall be fairly safe where we are. We hear rumours out here just the same as you do. We have much fine coffee out here. They seem to drink nothing else. The women work hard all day. I suppose the men are at the war. The roads here are fearful, and they play up badly with our feet, and tramping about in the dark one cannot see the holes and stones. We do get tired at that. The smells too are abominable.”

W.E. 1915 May 28th

A local member writes from Egypt on the work of the Royal Bucks Hussars;

“The work of the Regiment is being pursued with great zeal, and as the men are becoming acclimatised they are making great progress in the various operations which are being carried on under unique conditions. A number of the troopers have been sent to the Cairo hospital suffering from various illnesses, but none of the cases are serious, and the health of the troops is generally good. Several interesting promotions have been made since their arrival. They are enjoying their camp life, though they find the tremendous stretches of sand very different to the green pastures of Bucks.”

W.E. 1915 June 11th

On active service at the Front, a member of the Bucks Territorials writes home;

“This war is nothing less than scientific murder, and the sooner we get more munitions and men out here the better it will be for England. When the shells begin to come it makes you feel ‘curious,’ as one never knows where the next one will drop. The Germans ‘shoved’ one against our dug-out yesterday, but it fortunately only moved the loose dirt round the bottom. It is rotten to have to come out here to fight these hounds. They are some really dirty tykes - but they can shoot. I wish one could write an uncensored letter, to let people know at home what is going on out here. They cannot know half of the awful conditions that prevail. We know that the Huns are making things a bit lively for us behind their line ready for the time when we have the chance of showing what we can do. All our chaps out here are doing their bit cheerfully enough. … Some of us were talking to a little ----- girl the other day, and she told me a little about how the Huns went on round here. She told us they cut off the kiddies’ hands and feet, and stuck them through with their bayonets. She said she saw 22 dead civilians in one street. This gives a good idea of what we have to meet. They will play any rotten game. They have put up the white flag here once or twice, but now when it goes up it gets fired at, so they have become tired of doing it. It is only done to tempt our chaps to put up their heads.

Another Territorial writes;

“Around us the countryside is now really beautiful. It has to some extent recovered from the earlier devastation, the spring having caused many of the former unsightly spots to be covered with verdure, whilst the trees, those that are left, make a great difference to the general aspect. The violets I enclose I picked in the trenches we now occupy. Fancy picking violets within 30 yards of the Germans!”

B.S. 1915 June 12th

A letter to the editor from Corporal A. Chapman, of Newport Pagnell, and from Stantonbury, Rifleman J. Hepworth and Rifleman F. Levitt.

“SIR, - Thinking you and our fellow townspeople would like to know how Newportians are faring at the front, and having a few moments to spare, we thought of writing to the Bucks Standard in the hope that you will find space for our short letter. Your correspondents are:- Corpl. A. Chapman (Newport Pagnell), Rifleman J. Hepworth (Stantonbury), and Rifleman F. Levitt (Stantonbury.) We are all serving in the 4th Battalion Rifle Brigade, and belonging to the now famous 27th Division, which in General Sir John French’s own words, is the “Stonewall 80th Infantry Brigade.” As undoubtedly you have read in the daily papers, the 27th Division, under General Snow, have been engaged in the Ypres salient, and you can take it from us it is far from being a comfortable quarter, being in our opinion only next door to the dwelling place of his Satanic majesty. During our stay here we had all sorts of experiences and I can assure you there was a lot that none of us ever wish to go through again. To start with the Battalion was in the trenches for 36 days without a break, and during the whole time hard fighting was the order. We were subjected to heavy fire of all sorts, starting with the enemy’s heavy guns and running right down to the ordinary rifle. Still we kept at our post and did not yield a foot of ground, so the Germans seeing it was useless to try and move us with fire, gave us a terrible dose of their filthy gas. At that time our men had not been issued with respirators, but they still held their trenches although men were choking, and most of them could hardly see, because the gas plays havoc with one’s eyes as well as one’s lungs. Through it all the majority only complained because they could not smoke; take Tommies smoke away and you have done him, but really it makes one feel proud to belong to such a body of men. Have no time for more now, so will close, wishing you all good luck, and with compliments to all friends.

On May 21st, a trooper of the Royal Bucks Hussars writes home;

“We are still doing garrison and police duty at Cairo, and so far have little to complain about. The living is good, and plenty of it. We get fine rides in the early morning. This morning we went round the City; in fact, we get about a lot, and see plenty of interesting places. I was disappointed yesterday, not receiving a letter, as it was the English mail day, and everybody was reading except me. No doubt I shall be lucky next time. We seem as far off war as when we were in England, and yet there is heaps of fighting just at hand. There are heaps of wounded here in Cairo from Turkey, but they are just as happy as though nothing had happened.”

Referring to a possible recruit, the writer adds;

“He would like this job, riding about over broken country like some we get here - all ridges and rocks - and trying to get his charger by a few camels. It causes no end of sport. Who wouldn’t be a soldier.”

W.E. 1915 June 25th

A ‘correspondent’ of the Royal Bucks Hussars, stationed at Cairo, writes;

“We are still ‘as you were.’ While the life from a military point of view is perhaps not very risky, yet the work we are doing must be done by someone, and it may as well be carried out by the Bucks boys, if only they are later on allowed to take part in more exciting times. Apart from the daily routine, the life here is very interesting. As a matter of fact, my whole ideas of Egypt have been revolutionised. True, we see no Cleopatras; but the motley of different nationalities, and the quaint and picturesque costumes seen on all sides is really charming. If it were possible to transplant a section of the native market into the centre of a Bucks town, you would possibly imagine that a scene from the Arabian Nights was being enacted. But we are now quite used to it all. I have been out to several of the most historical spots around here. The first time was on the back of a camel - at least I was supposed to be sitting on its back, but when the journey was only half over I felt I possessed a bigger ‘hump’ than the animal itself. We hear plenty of news from ‘across the way.’ (Note - presumably the Dardanelles). I suppose I am not allowed to tell you much, but you can take it from me that it is a big task.”

W.E. 1915 June 25th

A private of the Bucks Territorials writes home from the Front;

“I am glad to say we are all in the best of health, and now talk French “like an Irishman.” As you no doubt have seen from the papers, we have been in the thick of it a bit, but where we are now it is fairly quiet. It is very hot here now, and this makes us a bit warm when we are on the move. If some of the young single chaps at home could see some of the things out here they would soon join and come and try and smash up the Germans. I think they are getting it ‘hot’ all round. It is a sight to see the aeroplanes at work, with shells bursting all round. But they still keep on, and apparently take no notice. I hope we shall see this business right through to the end. … I reckon if I get into bed again it will want a team of horses to pull me out.”

W.E. 1915 July 2nd

Writing home to his parents, a member of the Bucks Territorials remarks;

“I am in a beautiful wood, writing this to you, and the sweat is dropping off me as I sit here. It is about a mile behind the firing line, so you see we are always within sound of the rifles, although we are supposed to be resting for a day or two. The scent is lovely in the wood, which is a mass of honeysuckle. It seems honeysuckle everywhere, only larger bunches grow here than in England. A couple of pals and myself have this morning been cutting the grass on two soldiers’ graves, and we placed wild roses and honeysuckle over them. They look much better now. We gathered quite a good few strawberries coming back, and they tasted excellent. It is very hot again, after three wet days. One can quite understand what the chaps had to go through during the winter out here, because after that drop of rain we were over our boot-tops in mud and water. … There is a big chateau near us which the Germans shell every day, and yet there is one picture they have failed to touch - it is a picture of the Virgin Mary. The rest of the place is in ruins, and yet they cannot seem to touch that picture. It is very funny, but it is the same in many cases. The Germans were shelling our trenches the other day and one shell did not explode, so some of us chaps dug for it and found it. It was not a very big shell, but it knocked over half a dozen sand bags off the parapet. You see they do a bit of damage when they do not go off.”

W.E. 1915 July 2nd

Writing to his parents, a Corporal of the Royal Bucks Hussars motor cycle section says;

“We are having a fairly good time now, although there is plenty to do, and the weather is hot. They tell me that the temperature on one night was 95 degrees, which is rather warm even for Egypt. … The mosquitoes are one of the bugbears of the life out here, and at night their buzz and bites keep one awake for hours. Today (June 5th) it is much cooler, and there is a lovely cool wind blowing, so I don’t expect these terrible insects will trouble us much to-night. … There is a fellow named Deering from Wendover in hospital at Cairo. He came over with the first Australian contingent, and was wounded at the Dardanelles. It is funny how small the world really is. The other day I came across an Australian in the street who asked me for tidings of somebody from Wycombe. One thing I have been struck with out here is the “sportiness” - to coin a word - of the chaplains. All those I have met are first-class chaps.”

“June 13th: Yesterday I and another fellow went for a ride on our motorbikes to a place called Helanon, about 20 miles from Cairo up the Nile. The road runs for the most part by the side of the Nile, and the scenery one gets is very fine. It is astonishing to see how the fertile belt each side of the Nile stands out from the desert, and the dividing line is very distinct. Of course, it is lovely and green just at present, as the crops are now extant. I believe the floods are due about October or September, and upon these the land on each side of the Nile depends for its fertility, of course in conjunction with the canal system of irrigation. On our way to Helanon we could see these canals and the native farms and habitations - it was a very interesting ride. The roads were raised above the surrounding country, in some cases 20 feet or more above the level of the Nile, so that when the floods are in full swing the roads are above the high-water mark. … On the way back we ran into a precession of 350 Turkish prisoners of war, with 18 officers, escorted by the Berks Yeomanry with drawn swords. They had been captured at the Dardanelles. They looked very unkempt, dusty, and tired, and some of the poor beggars had no boots on - only apologies for them - but otherwise they appeared to be quite well equipped in the way of uniforms. They were wearing a sort of khaki grey, but thicker and not so good in quality as ours. They looked very ‘fed up’ with things in general and forebare (sic) to spit at us as we went past.”

W.E. 1915 July 9th

A trooper in the Royal Bucks Hussars writes from Cairo;

“What a long time it seems since we quietly left the shores of old England. We have been here but a short time, and yet I can almost persuade myself that I am a ‘native.’ What nationality I will not say, for we have representatives here of almost every country in the world., and to add to the variety we are ‘importing’ a large number of Turks. These, however, are somewhat unwilling visitors, as you can well imagine. I suppose we are eventually destined for -----, at least that is what we hear, but I have my doubts. The work we are doing here must be done, and unless we are relieved by some other regiment - perhaps they will send out the Buckingham lot - I am afraid we are fixtures. Still, I suppose we should not grumble; we are better off than the Oxfordshires.”

W.E. 1915 July 16th

A trooper in the Royal Bucks Hussars writes;

“Well, but for the monotony of our existence - that is from a military point of view - we should be well satisfied. Our ‘barracks’ are now really comfortable. You should say so if you were able to see them today, and contrast them with what they were when we entered into possession.”

W.E. 1915 July 16th

A correspondent writes from Egypt;

“Of course the descriptions of Egyptian matters one reads at home are perhaps slightly exaggerated. At least, I suppose the writers only see what is historic, beautiful and unique. But if you combine these with the other aspects of the country, they lose a little of their value. Native life here is a mixture of the beautiful - (if one is at a distance) - and the sordid. Those who are described as traders apparently regard those from Europe as fair game to be plucked in any old way, as long as they can do it. It is easy to obtain bargains, but one has to pay for them, and I should not like to guarantee that some of the things I have sent home - they may never arrive, it is true - were not actually made in England, or ------, that place to where we hope our troops will soon get.”

W.E. 1915 July 16th

One of the members of the Wolverton Company of the Bucks Territorials writes to the editor from the Front;

“I am sending you this account of the football match which I know you would be pleased to receive for insertion in your paper, which is a favourite with the Wolverton boys out here. I am pleased to say the boys are in good health, and we are in a decent little village now back from the trenches, having a rest. Of course we have plenty to do, route marches and field work etc., but we are all in good condition now, though the weather is very hot, and it is very dusty. Football, 6/7/15. - Somewhere in France. - 1st Bucks Battalion Stretcher Bearers v 4th Oxford and Bucks Stretcher Bearers. - This match was played some distance behind the firing lines, but within sound of the guns, the Bucks team being represented by the following: H. Savage (goal), Lce. Corpl. Lacey and A. Smith (full backs). P. Newman, C. Lacey, and Corporal Cross (R.A.M.C.), (half backs), E. Clarke, W. Brooks, W. Newton, Phillips, and G. Odell (forwards). Referee: Stan Howe; linesman, W. Liddiard. The Bucks, winning the toss, decided to kick down hill, so commenced operations at 6.15p.m. The Bucks boys soon got to work by Odell running down the wing and putting a fine centre which Newton, the Bucks centre, failed to gather before being bowled over. Immediately after the Oxfords had a turn, but failed to take advantage of it as Lance-Corpl. Lacey showed splendid form with his head, and averted the danger. Odell, receiving the ball, made a smart run down the field, and with a splendid cross shot opened the score, and half-time arrived with the Bucks boys leasding one goal to nil, and there being no lemons to suck or sherry to drink, the teams immediately crossed over and commenced operations, the Bucks kicking up hill. Soon after the restart the Oxfords took up the running, and after a few good runs had been smartly stopped by the Bucks backs, who were playing a splendid game, they were awarded a corner which was saved splendidly by Savage, the Bucks goalie. It now became a good dingdong game, both goalies doing splendid work, and at last the Bucks were rewarded, as a good shot by Smith, the Bucks back, was mulled by the Oxford goalie, and Brooks running up put goalie and ball through, thus giving the Bucks a two-goal lead. This seemed to wake the Oxfords up, and after a short time they were awarded a free kick about 15 yards out, and scored with a good shot, thus reducing the Bucks lead, and just on time the Oxfords made the scores level after a scramble in the goal mouth, and just as the ball was restarted the whistle sounded time, thus bringing to an end a very enjoyable but hard game, and as the teams were leaving the field The Oxfords called for three cheers for the Bucks, which were given very heartily - one of those actions that help bring the men of different regiments together, which is what is needed in this great strife which we are taking part in. I must not conclude this report without mentioning our referee, S. Howe, the Wolverton player who showed great ability in the way he ruled the game, and must also mention that the Wolverton Company was represented by 4 players, and that no stretchers were required, the only casualty being one shirt severely wounded, as Whiffen, the Bucks centre, started with a shirt a trifle worn and thin, and when he finished he had to adjourn to the first aid dressing station, where he was at once supplied with a new one.”

W.E. 1915 July 16th

Private Port, Headquarters Staff, ??? Berks Yeomanry, ???? Barracks, Cairo, Egypt, writes to the editor on July ?;

“As a constant reader of the “Express,” I though I would send you a few lines of what we are doing in Egypt, as I thought it might be of interest. When we first arrived in Egypt we went to Alexandria, and stopped there on the desert for about three weeks. The sun was ???? hot, but there were too many sand storms, so we were shifted into barracks at Cairo, which are situated right on the banks on the River Nile, but one bad fault about them is that there are a few live insects about, and we badly need a box of Keatings. When we arrived at Cairo the Stony Stratford Ambulance went to a place which it is best for me not to mention, and the Royal Bucks Hussars went to a place called the Citadel, where they are having a jolly good time of it. I am seeing some jolly decent sights out here. I paid a visit to the Pyramids, which are most interesting, also the Sphinx and various Tombs. I have been right to the top of the Pyramids inside, and it is a most peculiar experience. You have to take your boots off and wash your hands and face before entering: you then have to climb up slippery ????? Steps, and a guide has to pull you up while another assists you from behind. Once I slipped and we all tumbled to the bottom. I have got a few relics from there. There are also some fine parks and music halls here. Every Sunday in the park the band of the Westminster Dragoons plays magnificent music. The bazaars are very amusing. If you want to buy anything you have only to show your money and you can generally get it for a third of what they ask you. There are hundreds of wounded in Cairo, also Turkish prisoners. The Australian soldiers are very rough and dirty and are always being locked up. Ladies sometimes come round the hospitals, and they would sooner give away to the Australian than the English soldiers. These Egyptian people make you laugh at their ways. I saw one of their weddings the other day, and they are most peculiar. First come three camels with men sitting on them, beating big drums; then there are a lot of civilians singing. After that is a native band, which plays horrible music; then comes the coach with the bride and bridegroom in, and following that a lot of carriages with most beautiful women in. Of course there are all nationalities here. Greeks, ????, English, Russian, French, Spanish, Romanian, and Italians, and they are a most treacherous lot. The Sultan’s mother died here yesterday, and she was buried in state to-day. There were about 5,000 present - Egyptian Lancers and infantry, a band, then came the most magnificent coffin you would wish to see, followed by the royal coach, and after that other coaches with the ministers in.”

W.E. 1915 July 16th

An appeal for recruits has been sent to the editor of the Wolverton Express;

“Dear Sir, - May I ask the hospitality of your paper to make another apeal for recruits. In April my orders were to raise 563 men. That has been accomplished. The establishment had now been increased 50 per cent, we therefore require another 281 men. My experience of the last few weeks gives me hope that this comparatively small number will be forthcoming now that it is known that men are wanted for the County Regiment. To suit the convenience of the Agricultural Undustry in this country, arrangements are being made that men can be spared from time to time to assist in getting in the harvest. As soon as tents, and other equipment are provided we shall be going into camp, and the Marquis of Lincolnshire has kindly given permission that the Camp should be held in his park at High Wycombe.

(Lieutenant Colonel Gilbey had spent 50 years of his life in the county, and for 20 years was associated with the old Bucks Volunteers. At a recruiting meeting, Colonel Gilbey had said that the war was responsible for bringing him back to Bucks. A short time ago he had received a telegram from the Chairman of the County Council, Mr. Tonman Mosley, asking him to return to Bucks and raise another Territorial Battalion. At first he did not decide, in view of his home in Hampshire and his age, but on consulting his doctor he was told that he was sufficiently fit to not only serve at home, but also abroad. Of the Colonel’s sons, whilst one is still at school, his eldest is serving in the Navy. His second at the time the war broke out was farming in Australia, but having given up the farm was now a Lance Corporal. His third son was a Captain in the Rifle Brigade, with his fourth being a Lieutenant in the Royal Bucks Hussars.)

W.E. 1915 July 23rd

On July 2nd, a member of the Bucks Territorials writes home from the Front;

“We have not been fighting for the last fortnight, but we have done a long trek. … I am getting on all right with my French. I go into the garden with Madame and Monsieur. I tell them the names of things in English, and they tell me in French. You see potatoes are ‘pommes-de-terre.’ I can make the people ‘comprendre’ (understand). It is a bit of fun at times, though, but I have got a little book and am getting on fine. … When you hear the bullets you know you are all right; it is not the ones you hear, but those you do not hear, that have you. We have got used to them now, and do not take any notice of them - it is of no use. When we first came out we used to duck, and we were as safe as houses all the time. It seems a treat just now to be out of the sound of the big guns, for they rumble, and then close to you ‘Bang!’ You sometimes wonder whether they are Allies or Allemands (Germans). I wish you could come out here - to a certain point - you would be interested. You would be surprised at the people out here. They walk about in some places, and a big shell might come over at any minute. The other day two little children were playing on their own door-step when a shell came and burst on the pathway. It blew the door in, killed the children, and a man about 60 years of age. … You would be surprised to know how well the chaps, or near enough all of them, are looking, and how they take to the fighting part of our work.”

W.E. 1915 Aug. 6th

A trooper of the Service Regiment, of the Royal Bucks Hussars, writes;

“I believe there is a chance, after all, of our being removed elsewhere. This has been rumoured for some time, but from a little inside information I have obtained I feel sure that there is something in the wind. I believe the officers, as well as the men, have had about enough of this place. Monotonous duty, combined with the heat and the awful pests that irritate us so much at night, is not conducive to happiness. Perhaps I am one of those individuals who would grumble wherever I went. I am, however, not alone in this, although all the ‘boys’ are not that way inclined. Many of them like the country and the life, and if only they could see a little ‘fun’ they would be quite happy. That is the hard part of it. If we do not take part in any of the actual fighting and return home after only performing what is, after all, a glorified policeman’s job, we shall be disappointed men. I realise that cavalry are not wanted as such, either at the Dardanelles or in France, but it is hard luck. I know one thing: when cavalry are able to be utilised they will make their presence felt, if it is only because of the long wait.”

W.E. 1915 Aug. 6th

A soldier of the Bucks Territorials writes from ‘somewhere in France’;

“The change we have made, although an unexpected one, is certainly interesting. We knew little when we left ------- that we were actually going to join up with the French troops. I cannot tell you where we are, but you can take it from me that Bucks is again taking its share in the great struggle. Our new friends are excellent fellows. We have come into contact with two or three regiments, the members of which were apparently delighted to see us. Those of us who know a little French have really good times. We were sorry to leave the first lot. The night before we started off we had a capital smoking concert, in which both French and English artistes took part. Our National Anthem and the Marseillaise were sung at the end by us all, and the proceedings terminated, ‘amidst every sign of good fellowship.’ There is one characteristic about the French soldier which has struck us very much. It is that they are so pleased to see our men in khaki, and do not disguise the fact that they consider it an honour to take part in the war side by side with the English. The worst part of it is the ‘embracing’ of a too excitable Frenchman. I have not yet undergone that friendly salutation, but some of our fellows have - and you should have seen the blush. We are now somewhere near -------, and I should not imagine that it will not be long before we see some lively times. Well, we are ready for them. We have gone through a lot since we have been here: in fact, it sometimes seems to us that the war will never be over, but we will ‘stick it out,’ and keep on smiling.”

Another soldier writes;

“I have been a soldier now for n early a year, and, honestly speaking, it seems that I was never anything else. It is a splendid life, really, and I am fitter than ever I was when a civilian.”

W.E. 1915 Aug. 13th

A Private in the Territorials writes home from the Front on July 27th;

“I am sorry to say we have had some more wounded, but not very badly. We are in the trenches again. I had a narrow one the other day. I was on guard in the trenches, and we could see four Germans walking about; one of them stopped and had a shot, and the bullet whizzed over my head. I got my gun and had a shot - over he went. Another chap, who was with me, had a pair of glasses, and he saw the German fall. I think I killed him, so I did good.”

W.E. 1915 Aug. 20th

Serving at the Front, a private in the Bucks Territorials writes home to his relatives;

“I must tell you one thing that occurred while I and my mate ------- were on guard. It was about 12 o’clock midnight. We were keeping a sharp look-out, and we saw somebody creeping along the barbed wire entanglements. It was two Germans, who had come to give themselves up, and we got them into our trenches all right. I had to search them. They had got cigars and fags and ammunition in their possession. One of them gave me five rounds as a souvenir. They were fairly well fed, and seemed only too pleased to get into the hands of the English. They were big chaps, and looked cowards. They only get one meal during 24 hours. By midnight they expected victory but they did not get it. I am very sorry that we did not put a bullet through them. They stood out in the front, with their hands up like babies. It caused a bit of excitement right along the whole line. We have just been relieved from the trenches, after four days, and are now billetted about 300 yards from the firing line, in part of a large village. The greater portion of it has been blown away. There has been a lot of street fighting in it. There are about 18 old people left. The other poor devils have gone away, and have had to leave their things in the hands of the Germans. I am glad the war is not in England; it is awful, especially when they shell our trenches.”

Another soldier writes;

“It seems some time since we heard from home, but, of course, it now takes longer for the mails to reach us than it did at -----, where we had a real good rest. It is quite an interesting experience to be amongst the French troops. They are nice fellows and awfully keen soldiers. Some I have spoken to were able to speak quite good English, and as I am not a brilliant French conversationalist this improved matters considerably. One cannot but admire the deadly determination of these men. Some of them have seen much fighting, and they look forward to more. Their hatred of the Germans is intense, and in their excitable way they cannot conceal it.”

Another soldier writes regarding the ‘dug-outs.’;

“In the ‘dug-out,’ where I am sitting to write this, we are quite cosy. There is plenty of straw as a carpet; we have a door and several articles of furniture brought in from the cottages near that have been abandoned. Some of the chaps have even got theirs lined with tapestry, and those that belong to the ‘Ancient Order of Knuts’ have gone to considerable trouble to render their temporary home as attractive as possible. This may seem amusing to you at home, who may say, ‘What is the good of all that?’ But you can take it from me that it is only in such ways that we can relieve the monotony of the life we lead.”

W.E. 1915 Aug. 27th

A member of the Service Battalion of the Bucks Territorials writes from the Front;

“I am pleased to say we are all in good health and spirits. As you know, we came out here on March 30th, so we are now getting used to this life. We have been through a lot more than one would think after looking at our casualty list. The place we are in now is rather quiet. We do not get a lot of rifle fire, but plenty of shells, and when we get down we are practically sure of a good night’s rest, unless we have an alarm. When out of the trenches we are nearly always billeted in barns, and in most of them we have company in the way of rats and mice, and when you go to sleep at night you have to see that your rations are all right, or you will wake up to find some missing. Many duties are allotted to us, apart from our duties in the actual fire trench, consisting of trench digging, sand-bag filling for improving the trenches, rations, water, and ammunition carrying, and putting up barbed wire entanglements. We have got a machine-gun section and bomb throwers and stretcher bearers. When in the trenches the sniper is our worst enemy. You may be walking down the trench, and when you reach a certain spot a bullet will whiz past your ear. These snipers are very cute; they conceal themselves in old houses and trees, and I don’t think they ever fire directly in front of them. The firing line is never straight, but zig-zag fashion, and chaps are fired at sometimes straight down the trench. Some of the pluckiest fellows we have here are our airmen; we have seen hundreds of shells fired at them and it is a mystery how they come down alive. This village we are in now is nothing b ut a mass of ruins; there is not a sound building left. People in England cannot imagine what it is like out here, it must be seen to be believed. We hear a lot of talk about when the war will finish, but I suppose we must all wait and see. We are all confident that British pluck will win in the end, which we all hope will not be long.

Another of the Bucks Territorials writes on Aug. 10th

“We are doing another turn in the trenches. It is very muddy, as you can imagine as they are about five feet in the ground. It has rained hard all night, and there has been a thunderstorm. In most places we have to go up to our knees in water in order to get to our posts. … There are very few people living about here, and all the houses are blown to pieces. There was a fine church, which is now only a heap of ruins, about 500 yards within our trench. As I am sitting in the trench I can see some of our aeroplanes reconnoitring, also some of the Allemands, and they are being shelled on both sides. The German trenches are not as near to ours in this place as they were in others we have been at - they were only 80 yards off.”

Another writes on Aug. 11th;

“We now carry 150 rounds of ammunition, instead of 120. We go in to the trenches for four days, and then four or eight days out. We sleep, whilst in the trenches, for an hour or so in the daytime; never at night. At night in the trenches, every man stands by his rifle and bayonet; nothing is left to chance. We get breakfast in the trenches at 4a.m., dinner at 11.30, tea at 4, and tea again at midnight. We have been having very wet weather lately, and the trenches have been like running streams. We are in a quiet part of the firing lines now, a bit different from what we have been having.”

W.E. 1915 Aug. 27th

From the Dardnelles, this letter has arrived;

The journey of the Royal Bucks Hussars was carried out under very favourable conditions, and on landing the Bucks troopers at once found themselves in the danger zone. No horses were taken across, and the men, now acting as infantry, had the unusual experience of carrying packs. Trench work for a mounted regiment was naturally an unusual experience, but our fellows at once took to the altered conditions, and, in fact, really enjoyed their dangerous work.”

Another letter says;

“I little thought when I last wrote home that we should have achieved our ambition, and would have actually seen real fighting. But we have. The Royal Bucks Hussars, despite all, shall I say, sarcastic remarks, are now doing their duty to their King and country under such conditions that our very lives are at stake. You may remember, although you were not with us in those days, that during the South African War many of our fellows went to the veldt with the late Lord Chesham. The work we did there, compared to our present task, was mere child’s play. That we may come out of this business with as little loss of life as possible is, of course, the wish of us all, but if it so happens that we ‘go west’ - well, the Vale of Aylesbury will only be as other parts of the country. Good old Aylesbury! How we long to see it. We used to think it ‘slow’ in the days that seem a long time ago, but there is not one of us who would not rejoice to see the old Market Square again. I suppose the war has stopped the electric light coming to the town. Do you remember the arguments we had as to the benefits, or otherwise, of the introduction of electric light? How paltry it must now seem to us both at the present time! You, I know, are doing your bit, and we - well, we have now the opportunity of overcoming that feeling which we all know existed at home as to the feebleness of the Regiment. God knows it was not our fault. We were always ready to do our best, but the fates intervened. People did not realise that cavalry were comparatively useless in the present operations. We envied the ‘Terriers,’ who have done so well in France, but their task is in reality nothing compared what faces us. But there, I must not continue in this strain. We have our chance - which we have longed for, and, please God, when this terrible war is over we shall return with added glory to the old Regiment - the Regiment that the Vale of Aylesbury has regarded as its own. I may or may not see you again old chap, but, if not, well, I hope that you will always remember ‘One of the lads of the old Regiment.”

W.E. 1915 Sep. 3rd

From the Front, two members of the Wolverton Company of the Bucks Territorials write to their friends at McCorquodale Works, Wolverton, where they both worked before the war;

“We are sending you a few lines to let you know that we are still getting on all right. Owing to the dampness of the trench we find it is rather a job to get along sometimes as we generally slip back two paces for every one taken and so have to walk backwards to get where we want to. We enjoyed a very wet holiday this August and the last time we were relieved we had to wade out through the water above our knees and we should have been about ‘made up’ with a spade and little bucket. We still have to go on putting France into sandbags, and it makes us think of the outings when the chaps came along with trousers rolled above their knees and we almost fancy ourselves at the seaside. But Fritz does not let us have that impression for long. He cannot leave us alone when we are sitting behind the line and he dropped a shell into a village the other day where we were sitting causing some of us to risk spoiling our ‘togs’ through dropping them in the road. There is one thing that we must remark upon and that is the number of rats we sleep with as a rule. The other night they ate two men’s rations of bread out of a bag and dragged one of ------ boots across the barn. You will no doubt be able to guess from them when you consider it would take a great big rat to shift one of his boots. Some of the lucky ones from our Battalion have just come back from leave, and they tell us that England is still in the same place. Although, we had heard that the Admiralty had towed it to some spot near Australia. They also tell us about some kind of drink they have had, but I cannot write any more about that as some of the chaps are licking their lips and asking me if I have any more water in my bottle. Wolverton is no doubt fast asleep now as it is 1.30a.m., and so are two of our chaps opposite and they are telling a tale. We know their past history now and if they last another half an hour we shall know where they expect to spend their Christmas holidays. We often talk about old times at McCorquodale’s and wonder how our old friends are getting on. We hope to be back amongst them before long, although at times it seems as though we have done nothing else but soldiering.”

W.E. 1915 Sep. 3rd

One evening last week, a presentation took place at a meeting of the Sergeant’s Mess of the 2/1st Bucks Territorials, now in training in Essex. A purse of gold was given to Company Sergeant Major Barry by the members of the Mess, he having been promoted to Regimental Quartermaster-Sergeant of the 3rd Bucks Battalion, now in training for the last few weeks in camp at Dawes Hill Park, High Wycombe. Regimental Sergeant Major H. McGowan made the presentation, and a smoking concert was held afterwards. (The 3rd Bucks Battalion is under an old Bucks Volunteer Commanding Officer, Colonel Alfred Gilbey, who has 20 years experience of soldiering.) In a letter to the county press, appealing for more men for his Battalion, he says; “Should the controversy between the voluntary and compulsory systems be decided in favour of universal service, there will be no difficulty in getting this number from the county. Personally I have always been associated with the voluntary service, and my ambition is that all the men in my Battalion should be volunteers, and as I have no time now to go round the towns and villages, I appeal through the Press to those who have not already come forward to join the County Regiment. So far, 8,000 men from the county have enlisted, and out of this two newly formed Battalions of Territorials have been raised - one at Chelmsford, under the command of Colonel Williams, and one at High Wycombe, under Colonel Gilbey. This is in addition to the First Battalion, in France.

W.E. 1915 Sep. 17th

From Alexandria, a letter dated August 24th has been received from a trumpeter attached to the 2nd Squadron, Royal Bucks Hussars;

“I daresay you will regret to hear that I have been wounded by a piece of shrapnel, and a bit blown away from my first finger on my right hand. But I am going on very well. I have been admitted to Hospital at -------. The Medical Officer I am under seems to be a perfect little gentleman, and, in my opinion, will soon get me well again. I am sorry to say that our Regiment has been absolutely cut up, as we were having the shrapnel flying all over us as we were advancing to the trenches. Harry Hoskings, from Stokenchurch, called the roll of our Company on the beach on Sunday morning last, and we had nineteen all told, but I guess there have been some more found since then. In fact, I think all Yeomanry regiments that tried to capture ------ ----- were heavily cut about. The sight I shall never forget. I think young Arthur Gibbs has been wounded in the head, but I cannot say to be sure. Well, mother dear, you must excuse this writing as I cannot used the finger used for writing. I have lost all my kit - razor, tooth brush, towels, and soap: in fact, all the lot is gone. But, never mind, we must thank Heaven that I am alive, as it was simply Hell we went through. I hope this will find you and all at home quite well and in the best of health. Don’t worry yourself about me, as I think I shall be all right - at least, I hope so.”

W.E. 1915 Sep. 24th

“Sir. - We hope we are not taking too great a liberty in asking you to insert this letter in the “One and Only.” We get the “Express” every week, and you can guess it comes before all other papers with the local boys. But we are very sorry the dignity of the Navy has been insulted by Woodbines, and that it should be made known publicly. We quite agree, only you take it from us, that the North Bucks boys here are ashamed to think that such men as he are allowed to wear uniform. We hope the Girls’Club will not be taking it to heart. Let them know that they have the thanks and good wishes of all true Bucks boys, and we take off our hats to them for doing their best. We read with interest the doings of local lads, and I expect by now that you will have received the news of how the lads of Bucks did their bit somewhere in Turkey. We who saw them are proud of them, and so will you be when the story is told. We cannot write very often to you, for we are always busy, and long letters to you every week are out of the question. But we should like people to know that we are doing our bit. We wish we could find use for air pillows and other things, but we have to do without lots of things we really need. One of these is a good wash, so you may guess what things are like here. And as for a rest, it is worse at the rest camp than in the trenches, so we are seeing some fighting. The fighting here is the real thing, and to describe it fully would be a big job. All we wish is that we could go back to a billet, when we do get a rest, like they can in France. But houses are not on the plan here. We will write again soon and let you know how things are going. Thanking you for publishing this, we remain the boys of the Woodbine Dug-out. (H. Sherwood, J.F. Turland, H. Yates, C.E. Robinson, W. Taylor, R.F. Taylor).”

W.E. 1915 Sep. 24th

From ‘somewhere in France,’ Bugler H. Langley, of the Bucks Battalion, Oxon and Bucks Light Infantry, writes to his mother;

“We are now enjoying some beautiful weather, after having it wet and miserable for several days. We are out of the trenches, having a hard earned rest. It is not exactly a rest, but we are able to get a good night’s sleep, which we cannot get while in the trenches, as we have to keep our eyes open to see that Fritz does not play any of his hunnish tricks. One cannot help admire the French soldiers; they think a lot of the British Tommy, being quite pleased to get in our company and to have a chat with us. We are now billeted in a barn, and there is a beautiful orchard at the back of it. The people out here grow a tremendous lot of fruit, especially apples. No matter where you are you can come across orchards full of beautiful apple trees, and it is a shame to see tons of splendid apples go to rot on account of the people being driven out by the Huns. Myself I think if the people in England could see the places out here they would be more than pleased to think that there is not a war in England. We are now giving them as good as they send, and a little more. I bet poor Willie is sorry the war started, but he has got to go through it now and answer for all the kulture, and I don’t doubt for a moment that we - the Bucks Boys - will do our best, as we have done all along, to smash German kulture for good and all. We have just made up a bit of poetry, which goes as follows, by Private T. Golding:-

Regarding the attack on Chocolate Hill, an officer at the Front writes to a brother officer at home concerning the Royal Bucks Hussars;

“Now for the Regiment. I don’t want to buck about them too much, for the others were equally good; but, to you and I who have been enthusiastic Yeomen all our lives, it was most gratifying to know how splendidly they behaved and their coolness under fire, which was evinced from the moment we landed. We got them all on shore all right in the dark, but were shelled as soon as daylight came. The first shells came over them when in close formation, as we were moving off to the ground allotted to us for our bivouac. Not a man moved, nor was there the slightest fear depicted on their faces. This was a good start, and all moved off as if on parade at home to that portion of the hill allotted to us. Their conduct was just the same the next few days, and they went down to draw water, rations, etc., as if there were no enemy at all. After a stay of a few days at Suvla Bay, we moved off one evening and marched all night to another part of the beach, and from there at 3p.m. advanced to attack a hill called 70, about four miles off. The division advanced in regimental lines of troop columns. Each regiment in troop columns one behind the other - about 14 lines of regiments, with about 200 yards distance between regiments. Just as we started, Jack Millbank, the regiment behind us, asked me to push on, as a message had come through saying they wanted us at Chocolate Hill as soon as possible, and to pass the message on. So I closed up a bit and quickened the pace. We had to right shoulder when we got past a salt lake (on our left), and then it was we caught it. As we went by the guns just began to let us right, and the succeeding regiments caught it hotter (the Warwicks lost 60 men.) Shrapnel rained on us, also long range machine gun fire, before reaching the shelter of Chocolate Hill. Fred Cripps was hit, three men killed, and about 21 wounded. Here we paused our Brigade, then left the hill on its right and the two other brigades on their left, for two hills called 70 and 100 respectively. I won’t go into all the details, but I think the two other Brigades went wrong. So we made an isolated attack, stormed the hill, but could not hang on, and eventually came back (what was left of us) in the dark, about 2a.m., to Chocolate Hill. I went in about 320, and the next morning had only about 120, but others kept turning up, and the R.B.H. real number of casualties is about 120. All the troop sergeants and sergeant-majors were hit. We had no rolls or record, and nothing but what we stood up in. The difficulties of the previous evening were enhanced by fires which broke out, and it was, and is still, very difficult to get information; nor do the hospitals and dressing stations make a return to the regiments, but to their base. We called “missing” all those about whom no definite information could be obtained. I was fearfully stiff and sore the next day from various blows I had received. Our officers in the fight of the 21st and 22nd were Cay. Gardner (w.), St. John (w.), Cripps (w.), T. Rothschild (w.), Fairbairn (w.), C. Clarke (w.), Leslie Jones (orderly to Kenna), Young (Maxim Guns), and Pearson (Doctor). All behaved splendidly and with great gallantry, as did the N.C.O’s and men. After this fight we dug ourselves in at Chocolate Hill, where we were shelled and sniped hourly almost. I think we shall do the old Turk now. Some wounded officers came in here last night and told us of the latest moves. We have the hills we attacked on the 21st and 22nd. The General had all the officers up after the big fight, and he and the General Commanding the XI Division expressed their admiration of the Yeomen. A Divisional Order was published with special reference to the 2nd Brigade, of which Colonel Grenfell was given the command.”

W.E. 1915 Oct. 1st

On September 19th, Captain Birchall writes to Mrs. Savage;

“I am very deeply sorry to have to inform you that your husband, No. 1013, Pte. H.C. Savage, was severely wounded this morning, and died of his wounds half an hour later. He was quite unconscious and suffered no pain at the time. He was attached as stretcher bearer to a working party. The men of the company have specially asked to be allowed to carry out his funeral this afternoon. He had always been so useful to me that I feel his loss acutely and know there are many men who have been wounded, who will always be grateful to him for the way he has looked after them. All the men were fond of him, and you may be sure that we all join in the most sincere sympathy for you in your loss.”

Company Quarter-Master Sergeant W. Marsh writes on September 20th;

“Before you receive these few lines from me you will have received the official notification of the death of your husband who I regret to say was killed by shell fire on Sunday whilst working in a communication trench. I can speak of him as a comrade who was ever ready to carry out the various duties entrusted to him. His loss is keenly felt. With many others of his comrades I followed his remains to his last resting place. He was buried the same evening as he had died, a British soldier and hero in our little burial ground situated in an orchard behind the trenches within the sound of the guns which had only a short time before dealt him a terrible blow.”

W.E. 1915 Oct. 8th

News has been received of the death of Corporal Frederick Malcher, aged 32, of the Oxon and Bucks Light Infantry. He was struck in the head by a shrapnel gas shell in the advance at Loos, and died last Wednesday. His widow, a daughter of Mrs. Styles, of 21, King Street, Stony Stratford, lives at Ashton, near Roade, and there are two young children. Corporal Malcher, one of the first to join from the Wolverton Carriage Works on the outbreak of war, had endured several narrow escapes, including being buried up to his neck in a mine explosion, and a bullet piercing his hat. See Newport Pagnell

W.E. 1915 Oct. 22nd

Territorial life at the Front, as described in extracts from a Wolverton Territorial’s letters, “somewhere in France.”

“What a really jolly holiday I did have at home. It is the holiday of a lifetime - a week from the Front: and I didn’t mind the coming back so much as I felt so thankful for the holiday. … It was smoother crossing too when I came over, but the difference in the fellows could absolutely be felt. Going home everyone is more or less excited and eager to get a glimpse of “Blighty,” but coming back everybody goes to sleep, or tries to, I suppose and forget that it has all come to an end. The ship seemed absolutely silent and of course all lights were put out, and one fellow was playing a mouth organ quietly and in the darkness it sounded quite weird … very little time is lost on the way. The train left Victoria at 6, and by 6a.m. I arrived here within easy walking distance of the firing line (trenches). Fancy! in just over 12 hours, it seems marvellous, does it not? … One thing I found out, though, and that was, that people at home seemed to have no idea whatever of what life is like out here. They seemed to think on the whole it is a glorified picnic. It is sometimes but at others, of course, it is by no means a picnic. … Our fellows had a rough time while I was at home, but I feel I don’t mind what happens now I have had my holiday. … My pal said my parcel arrived safely, but in a precarious condition, the cake, etc., was smashed, but they were jolly glad of everything, and when one is hungry a cake can be in any condition, such trifles matter not. One thing I must say, I feel much better for my holiday. It does buck a fellow up to see the old country again and find the people so kind and nice. Of course it is only natural they should not understand what it is like out here, because no one could unless they saw things as they are. Perhaps it is just as well they are not able to see as I am sure they would worry about us far more at home than we worry about ourselves. … I am more than glad you did not come to V. to see me off; it is an awful sight to see some of the people, and it makes it ten times as bad for the fellows. I saw several who could hardly keep up. It is much better to go without all that sort of thing and it only unnerves a fellow. … I found my friend all right and we hung together all the way which made it much better. I had several sleeps in the train. I think that is one thing I have learnt out here; to turn in for an hour, perhaps, and get up and then sleep again for another couple of hours, get up again and so on through the night. I could never have done this at home. I am sure my trip home has cheered me up, but I am quite glad to get back with the boys again.”

W.E. 1915 Oct. 22nd

On October 19th Sapper F.G. Freeman, 2nd Field Company Royal Engineers, writes from France;

“No doubt another epistle from the front will find interest to readers of our most valuable paper. Our past offensive movement has proved a great setback to the Kaiser’s so-called impregnable lines, as Tommy Atkins once again pierced his front. Little did I think after setting foot on French soil again that we should come to grips again with the Germans so quickly. At dawn on August 24th, after a continuous bombardment lasting for many days, our Division were ordered to attack. On the command, “Go,” our bombers crept silently to the enemy’s barbed wire and waited until the artillery ceased firing on the support lines when all of a sudden through the mist they rained their implements of death amongst them, taking the first line trenches completely by surprise. Nothing daunted them as afterwards they chased them like ??? Along the communication trenches ??? To the second line which was occupied in less than twenty minutes. Myself on reaching the German first line, as usual ????? Plenty of sights, but pleased to say my ????? Was normal. I entered some of the dug-outs and found them illuminated with electric light, and containing tables, chairs, bedsteads, and numerous amounts of foodstuff. Commenting on these burrows beneath the earth, they were dug 15 feet deep, and ???? to a cesspool, and to my amazement I thought for a moment that I was at home ??? Everything was made for comfort. ???? About the Germans being short of food. ??? There was plenty of everything. The enemy left equipment, rifles, bombs and ammunition. But myself I had no time of grasping souvenirs as my work consisted of ???? the sand-bags of the parapet of our newly captured trench. Our casualties were ??? Slight indeed, but the Germans’ second ????? Was choked with dead. Unfortunately ??? Company suffered heavily in the rear owing to shrapnel, as the enemy’s shells had ???? First line German trench ranged to a ???? We found our unlimited supply of ammunition paved the way to our great success. ??? Germans’ positions were blown to atoms ???? The nation have cause for delight. As ???? Witness this is a most brilliant victory. Unexpectedly I came across Reg Hill, ??? The Artillery, from Wolverton. We ???? Of the bombardment and other matters ??? It was inspiring to meet an old friend ????

W.E. 1915 Nov. 5th

Mr. E. Ashmead-Bartlett gives particulars of the bravery of the Yeomanry in Gallipoli on August 21st;

“The Yeomanry deserve every credit for the magnificent manner in which they behaved when in action for the first time. They advanced for two miles under a perfect hail of shrapnel. It was the 2nd Brigade, under the Earl of Longford, consisting of the Bucks., Berks., and Dorsets, which made the final glorious charge, in conjunction with the 87th Brigade, and obtained temporary possession of Hill 70, which had subsequently to be abandoned in the night. The losses of this Brigade were very heavy, the Bucks. Regiment losing almost all their officers and men.”

B.S. 1915 Nov. 6th

Well known in Newport Pagnell and Olney, Trooper Tom Pollock is ‘doing his bit’ with the Beds Yeomanry. As ‘a vocalist of a distinctly humorous character,’ he sends to the editor some verses dedicated “to the multitude of slackers,” and in his accompanying letter states his desire to see the Allies come out “top dog” in the struggle;

“As I am now laid up with a beastly attack of influenza I thought I could not do better than try and write something to urge the multitude of slackers to don the khaki and assist to keep that grand old flag of ours - the Union Jack - still flying. Well here is my effort, and I am ‘shipping’ it on to you with the earnest hope that it will meet with reward by the light of print.

(In a military wedding, on Friday, December 24th he would marry Miss Ella Louisa Atkins, of Bedford, at Emberton Parish Church. Trooper Pollock is the youngest son of the late Mr. E. Pollock, surgeon dentist, and brother of Mr. David Pollock, L.D.S., Royal College of Surgeons, a well known dentist in the north. Before the war he himself was in practice as a dentist in Bedford. )

NBT 1915 Dec. 14th Tue.

Lieutenant (temporary Captain) William Stuart Chirnside, of the 1/5th Bedfordshire Regiment, has been awarded the Military Cross in recognition of his gallantry, and devotion to duty in the field. Last August, just after landing on the Gallipoli Peninsula the 5th Beds. performed the difficult task allotted to them without flinching, and there were many heroic actions recorded during the battle. Other honours may be announced later, but regarding the manner in which Lieutenant Chirnside won the Military Cross the official description reads;

“For conspicuous courage on the Gallipoli Peninsula from August 15th to 17th. He led his men with great gallantry, and in spite of being wounded he remained two days at his post, until relieved and taken to hospital. By his fine example and courage he assisted in keeping up the spirits and morale of his men.”

W.E. 1915 Dec. 17th

A letter addressed to the editor;

“Sir, - I am writing these few lines hoping that if there are fellows hesitating about enlisting, they will come at once and help the boys with their duty, which it will be gathered from the following notes is no light one. As you know the 1st Bucks have been doing there bit “Somewhere in France” for eight months, and I think I am safe in saying this is the worst time we have ever had in the trenches. It was before dinner on the -----, and we were going into the trenches in less than an hour. As we were in a barn 200 yards behind the firing line, some of the fellows we were to relieve came and told us how things were going. It had been freezing hard for three or four days, and was just the weather for trench fighting. … Well, we fell in and marched off, and were soon struggling up the communication trench, over our shoetops in mud, which, as we advanced, got deeper and stickier. It took us best part of an hour to reach the fire trench, so you can guess the state of things. Now and again down would come about half a ton of earth into the trench and was soon trampled into sticky clinging mud. After a struggle, laughing at one an other’s comic antics, we reached the part we had to take over and we felt proud and pleased with ourselves, when we saw the fellows faces light up as we took over their duties, and off they went laughing and joking at the prospect of a warm bath and dry clothes. Then the fun started for us, sentries were posted and the spare men got to work on the mud with shovels and buckets. I had charge of six men, and in a narrow trench, up to our knees in the mud we started. We worked like niggers for six hours, and at the end of that period we had hardly made any improvement, for the sides kept falling in owing to frost and rain. Still we had to keep on or the trench would get blocked. Never shall I forget it. The mud clung to the spades, and weighed about a quarter of a hundredweight, and we had to throw it on top of the sides six foot high. We tried all manner of schemes, and at last the only way possible was half the fellows on top and pull up buckets the others filled. Those on top were in the mud as deep as those in the trench, and once one overbalanced and fell backwards. We could not help laughing, as we dug him out, heedless of the fact that we were a mark for the Germans had it been light enough. As it was a few stray shots came plenty close enough. All through the night we had to keep on. It was one of those black nights you could almost feel it, and as we could not see, we got covered from head to foot with mud. Our officer came along to see how we were getting on with it, and we had to dig him out, too. In the morning it made one shudder to see the boys faces, stern and strained, and eyes glaring, for things seemed hopeless. After we had had our rum (about an egg-cup full), things seemed brighter, and after breakfast we started again. After 48 hours of this, and bullets and shells whistling over all the time, we were relieved, and were soon enjoying a hot bath, followed by having our feet rubbed by the stretcher bearers with anti-frost bite. So it goes on, in and out, relieving one another during our stay in the trenches. Two days doesn’t seem long to anyone who has never tried it, but when dug-outs are flooded and tons of work, and only wet mud to sit on to sleep they seem long to us. Besides this there are other nice little jobs mending the wire, patrolling no man’s land, listening patrols, and sentries. All this goes to make life out here interesting, and makes one feel kindly disposed towards those eligibles who are content to stay at home and read of these things instead of helping to finish this hellish struggle for Right and Freedom. Hoping I have not taken up too much of your valuable space, I’ll conclude with best luck to the boys.

NBT 1916 Jan. 18th Tue.

Private Joe Bilcock, of the Duke of Bedford’s Training Camp, and now of the 2nd Beds., writes from France in January 1916;

“I have about got over Christmas, and the worst I ever had; in the trenches all the time, and on the 23rd it rained all night in torrents, but I had a good sheet and kept dry. I have had a bit of pudding to-day, and some nuts and oranges, sent through a daily paper, and very good too. It wants iron men to stand it out here. Some that came out with me are in England, and some are in the ground. I get plenty of grub; the worst job is getting in and out of the trenches. I could tell you a tale of last night, but I will leave that. We can get beer here, but it is a franc a quart. I hope the weather will soon get better, we can do with it. France is grand when the sun is on it, but not much recreation, with war and rain, rats etc. The rats know us so well that they often rub their backs against our eyebrows when we are asleep, and they get so saucy that they help themselves to our rations. I generally ‘strafe’ them when they are in the firing line, as it is not much trouble with the rifle.”

NBT 1916 Jan. 18th Tue.

In January 1916 Corporal Charles Slater, of the 8th Bedfords, writes regarding the heavy shelling and gas attacks which his regiment has experienced;

“I daresay you have seen in the papers that our Regiment has had a rough time. We went in the trenches last Thursday, and it was pretty quiet. On Friday morning, however, they sent hundreds of shells over. I shall never forget it; they came right in the trenches where I was. I saw all my mates knocked all over the place. It was dreadful to see the wounded lying all round. We lost 19 in our platoon the first day we were in the firing-line. We got relieved that night, and sent back to the support trenches, and the next day they shelled us again, and we lost a few more - 75 that time. Well, on Sunday morning I was on duty, and about 5 o’clock I could see a cloud of white stuff coming. It was gas. I was the first to see it coming in our trench, so I had to go and wake up all the chaps, and get our gas helmets on, but I got some of it down me. They thought they would take our front lines, but we were too hot for them. We let them have it! Our chaps were shelling them like ----, and we held the line through it all. Sunday night we got some more gas, but we were ready for it that time. On Monday morning they shelled our line again, worse than ever, but we had orders to move lower down the trench. When it stopped a bit, I went to my dug-out, as I thought, but it was blown up. So you see I have lost everything except my rifle. I am glad to say we are out of the trenches now. Thank the Lord I got through it safe.”

(A few days later Corporal Slater was badly wounded in the chest, and was taken to a Field Hospital.)

NBT 1916 Feb. 15th Tue.

Regarding the Bedfordshire Territorial Comforts Fund, Lieutenant R.W. Limbert, the Secretary, has just received the following letter, dated January 23rd, 1916, from Lt. Col. Edgar Brighten, Commanding 1/5th Bedfords;

“Dear Limbert. Two cases of tobacco and cigarettes, as numbered below, have arrived to-day; also the following:-
3 cases containing 95 Tommy’s Cookers;
1 case bivouac cocoa - 1 gross, 6 ration tins;
1 parcel Oxo cubes - 19 dozen.
Will you please tell everyone how pleased we are with these, and thank the donors to the Fund. Being in Egypt, it may be thought that the Cookers are a bit thrown away, but there is many an occasion in changing station or such like, when the men will be very grateful for them, particularly as it is not always easy to get firing in this country. I shall keep them for the present until such an emergency arises. I have also received to-day a case of 10,000 Woodbines, but there is nothing to show who they are from. If from your fund, will you please include them in the above acknowledgment.”

W.E. 1916 Mar. 10th

A soldier of the 52nd Oxon and Bucks Light Infantry writes to the Editor;

“While at home on a short leave I have taken the liberty of writing to you these few interesting lines about the old County Regiment known amongst many as the 52nd A. Foot. It is a regiment that has made and won fresh laurels, and which I am proud to say, is one of the Regular Regiments that has never had its line broken since the commencement of operations on August 13, 1914. It has been known for a long time that Kaiser Bill sees to it that some of his finest regiments are put in front of us, as they have cause to remember the old 2nd Division, which has made and proved itself in the past. Our 5th Battalion, which has kept up the reputation, is known now amongst the military circle as one of the finest Battalions raised as ‘Kitchener’s’. When on the march from the trenches or on a route march, you will often come across very inquisitive persons who ask politely ‘what lot and how long have you been out?’ Now when Tommy has been carrying the pack for a number of miles and a Corporal behind him who, wanting more promotion, keeps shouting “Keep covered off,” etc., you can bet your life Tommy then isn’t in the best of tempers. Another thing which falls to his lot when on these ‘beautiful’ roads of France is to have a mud shower bath every 200 yards or so, received and duly thanked from the A.S.C., who have got a nack (sic) of finding every rut or puddle when troops are passing. So whoever it is asks questions concerning us or the regiment while on the march and nearly fed up, can count on getting a nice little reception, as there are still some of the old boys left who can make themselves distinctly heard when they shout 18½ months ago, making the chap, or whoever it is, bring out his pay book and begin to work up the date of embarkation. While in the trenches one day we found out we had got the Bavarians facing us, and amongst the swines they could speak English fairly well. It was early one morning that Fritz started shouting across to us asking how we should like to go on leave. I don’t now whether we insulted the English language or not, but what that chap heard he will never try to learn. One of them asked the question, “What’s the price of bread in London?” One of our chaps, who is ready any time with his mouth, shouted back, “Cheaper than it is in Berlin, and the bread is white.” We should have heard some more, but the officer of our company soon put a stop to it by sending Fritz a few rifle grenades. We never heard any more and were sorry in one way to leave.”

W.E. 1916 May 12th

A cheerful letter from a soldier serving with the Oxon and Bucks Light Infantry;

“This letter will not be very interesting, as it is about the same thing day after day. At present we are doing the 28 days up the trenches, and it works like this – four days in the front line and four in reserve, until the lot is finished. This last time going in was a bit of a terror, as they shelled us with whizz-bangs, but we got through safely. The next day they were dropping 8in. shells in the front line, but no one was hurt; so there is no peace for us whilst in. It leaves me in the pink so far, but I shall be glad when I can have another Saturday night in Blighty. Remember me to the Boys. – One of the knuts, Francis.”

W.E. 1916 May 12th

From Salonica, Private H. H. Crocker, of the 7th Battalion, Oxon and Bucks Light Infantry, has sent the following lines;

W.E. 1916 May 26th

The second instalment of the account of the fighting around Loos last September and October is published. It says: The Oxon and Bucks Light Infantry were also in the thick of the fighting. The 2nd Battalion took part in an attack on the German trenches at Givenchy. The attack was delivered with great dash, and at first fared well. The right company of the Oxfordshires had won its way into the German front line, though the left of their line was checked by enfilade fire. They attempted to consolidate their positions, but were unable to hold out against the strong enemy counter-attacks, and at night they returned to their own lines. The 5th Battalion was in action further north at Bellewaarde Farm, near Hooge. They made a lodgment in the enemy’s trenches, but were unable to link up with the other battalions, and the Germans in strong force, were forced back.

W.E. 1916 June 2nd

Private W. Cresswell, with D Company, the 7th Battalion, Oxon Bucks Light Infantry, writes of life in Salonica;

“On the morning of May 2nd, the 7th Oxford and Bucks. L.I. started on their great march. The morning was not very promising, rain threatened at any moment. We left camp at 8 a.m., and the boys soon set up singing a few of their old songs. A small village called Saina, which we had camped close to about three months ago, looked splendid with its fine orchards as we marched past. Immediately following were fields of barley tinted here and there with poppies and other flowers. The sun was now beginning to shine on us, and we looked the “true British boys” with our bugles shining and our boots thumping on the hard ground. It was a good hour’s march before we sighted Sangaza, another small village. Here there was an avenue of trees which afforded us a little shade, and it was the best bit of scenery that we had seen in the country. In the marshes and in the swamps were storks hunting for food, and occasionally was heard the croak of the frog as it swam about in the watered places. As we marched through Sangaza we noticed various nice buildings, and how clean the peasants were; quite different to those we had left behind. We arrived at a suitable camping place about 2 p.m. The boys, though much strained with their heavy packs and the long march, went cheerfully to work, and soon erected their bivouacs to sleep in, and with the help of “Tommy’s Cooker,” were soon well away feeding on meat and onions. At night all was quiet, except for the occasional footsteps of the military police, or a deep snore from Tommy, dreaming of home.

Wednesday. - The march continued this morning at 9.15 a.m., in splendid weather, but instead of keeping to the track we had to take to the hills and valleys. This proved a very sweating job, as the sun became very hot, and the boys were very glad to throw their packs off at every halt. Eventually, after miles of plodding we reached our new camp, which was situated in a nice spot, but the Tommies were too tired to take much interest in it. At night they got very little rest owing to the braying of the mules and the cold air. The following morning the boys were aroused from their restless sleep by the voice of the sergeant-major crying “Fall in with your water bottles.” Of course every one of them was dying for a drop of water, and one by one, half asleep and half awake, they staggered out of their bivouack (sic) to get some of the much needed mineral - nature’s best drink. We had a good fill of Mac, and biscuits for breakfast, and a supply of lemons and oranges from the hawkers to keep us fresh on the march. About 9.15 a.m. the Battalion left camp and after toiling for miles in the broiling hot sun we came in sight of the enemies’ positions, and the boys were eagerly waiting for the word charge so as to get the job over quick and have a rest before marching to the new camp, which was about three miles distant, and they were about done up when they arrived, mainly through the shortage of water. The bivouacs were then pitched, and after a scanty meal the boys were asleep between the blankets.

Friday. - The Tommies were about early next morning, getting ready for another wet shirt. As usual the Battalion started out late, the time being about 9.15, just when the sun was getting strong. We were getting on well with the scheme, when we had the news that a Zepp. had been brought down at Salonica. That cheered the boys somewhat, but the continual climbing up hills knocked all the go out of them. It was only the good training that we have had that kept us from falling out.

Saturday. - We continued a rearguard action, but the boys did not take much interest in it for they were retiring towards our camp. The next morning we finished the rear action which brought us on the plain. Monday came and the scheme was read out. The Oxfords, as usual, were on the right flank. That meant that we should take the hills again. There was a lot of grumbling about this, but we did it like lambs, and finished off with a six miles’ march towards Sangaza to our old camp. The last day, Tuesday, the boys marched well and gained the distinction of being the best marchers of the brigade, and camp was reached in fine style with the aid of a few songs.”

W.E. 1916 June 30th

W.E. 1916 July 28th

Gunner W. J. Howe, 7697, 72 Heavy Battery, R.G.A., S.E.F., “D.” Mesopotamia, writes to the editor;

“Dear Sir. Being an interested reader of your paper, I now take the first opportunity of asking you to thank the inhabitants and all concerned of Wolverton, very much for generous gift sent. It relieves one to think that although recently passing through the ‘Garden’ which is thousands of miles apart, that thoughts of us are still at home with you, and can assure you am looking forward for the time to return, as this is a most terrible country. The early part of attack was made through flooded areas, which, extending for miles, made transport and successful advance impossible, and although advances were made, we had on more than one occasion to man handle our guns from action, as it was impossible to get horses up to them, and now we have the heat, which, although summer out here has barely commenced, registers 114 degrees in the shade of our tents, which is the only shade available, there being no trees, no hedgerows, and nothing but open plain, chiefly sand, which now and again gives us a storm which is terrible.”

W.E. 1916 July 28th

An account of the brave deeds of the 2nd Bucks Battalion;

“Our lads were simply marvellous on the 19th. They went in waves for the Huns, each wave as one man, and as cool as on an ordinary field day, led by brave officers. It was really wonderful the many unrecorded acts that happened of bravery and narrow escapes. That will be told later. Captain Church and Lieuts. Atkinson, Phipps, Hudson, Brewin, and Chadwick fell bravely leading their men, whilst Captain Liberty, who was wounded, was dragged in by a sergeant from the Huns’ barbed wire, it taking the brave sergeant five hours to perform such a gallant deed. Ten hours the battalion was at it, and it was really marvellous how our men came out of it so well. Colonel Williams, commanding the battalion, came out of it without a scratch. Captain Buckmaster and Major H. C. L. Barratt are in hospital. On arriving back at the base the General Commanding the Division congratulated the battalion on its magnificent work. The battalion is now resting.”

W.E. 1916 July 28th

A letter to the editor;

“Sir. I am writing to you on behalf of the Bradwell Soldiers’ and Sailors’ Comforts Fund. Last Christmas we sent to each of our soldiers and sailors (about 370), a parcel containing warm clothing and other gifts, and in return had most grateful letters from all recipients. Our statement of accounts is being published in your advertisement columns. Bradwell is not a wealthy place, but has so far supported its own Comforts Fund. This year I fear that it may be out of its power to do so. The number of those serving has increased to about 500 - all wage earners, and the main supports of their families. It will therefore be increasingly difficult to raise the necessary funds for even a small parcel in the place alone. May I appeal to the kindly disposed to see that our soldiers do not go without their Christmas present? I shall be most grateful for contributions in cash, socks, or wool. - Yours truly,

Linford Hall, Bucks.”

W.E. 1916 Aug. 18th

Private J. Coates, of the Bucks Territorials, has been wounded in the great push, and from a Chatham Hospital writes to his parents;

“Early last Sunday morning our Battalion was in reserve to another Battalion, and a trench had to be taken at all costs. The first Battalion went to drive the enemy out, but proved unsuccessful. Then came our turn. We started advancing along a road that was being heavily shelled with shrapnel, etc. A funny thing, my mate, walking just behind me, and nearly touching, was knocked down, but we had to keep on, and at last reached the trench. We drove the Boches out and captured some. We came across plenty of souvenirs - German helmets, etc. What a sight to see the dead lying about, and the German wounded putting up their hands for pity and help. After taking the trench we had to hold it. It came to afternoon, and some of us were resting, when suddenly the Germans opened very heavy artillery fire on the trench - shells of all kinds for about half an hour. It was then I was wounded. I was in a little place dug out in the side of the trench, about big enough for a little child to lie in. A shell burst on top, and I nearly got buried. I received a piece of shrapnel casing in my thigh. Out I crawled and went to the stretcher-bearer shelter. Here I found the stretcher-bearer in another small hole. I told him what had happened and in another second we were buried again by the explosion of another shell. I escaped this time with a slight graze on my back and arm, which is now nearly better. I got my wounds dressed farther up the trench, and walked down to the dressing station, which was about a mile away. I had my wounds washed and re-dressed, then was taken two miles and a half on a stretcher to the motor ambulance, which conveyed me to the second Field Clearing Station, where I stayed the night. Next morning I had all my clothes taken off, my wounds dressed, and given some clean underclothes. I was then carried to the station and sent down to the third casualty clearing station, where I stayed about three days. From there I was sent to England, arriving on the Friday afternoon. I am now in Chatham Hospital, going on fine. I went under an operation and had a piece of shrapnel casing taken out of my thigh, which was given to me, so I am keeping it. You may guess there is a tidy gap in my thigh, but I am thankful I am spared to come back to old ‘Blighty.’ I consider myself lucky when I think of my mates in the same platoon, who have been killed; also the platoon officer. All my kit is in France; I do not know if I shall see it again. You need not worry about me as I am well looked after by the nurses, and get good food.”

W.E. 1916 Sep. 16th

Private W. J. Toms, of the R.A.M.C., writes to the editor;

“Since I have been abroad (France), I have been kept in touch with the happenings as I have a ‘Wolverton Express’ sent out to me. Through this medium you will be pleased to hear I have got into communication with an old school chum of mine who emigrated to Australia. I refer to E. G. W. Timbs, of the 14th Australian Field Ambulance, and when I read his letter to the ‘Express’ I wrote to him and have received a reply. Strange to say he is quite near me here and before long I hope to see him. Through the ‘Express’ I have heard about the welfare of several local fellows who are in the division, so you see that very often we hear information of our friends through the medium of the ‘Express,’ whereas we don’t hear about them individually out here, although they may only be one or two miles away.”

In 1917 a Military Correspondent writes in the “Morning Post”;

“Bedfordshire is not one of those counties with teeming populations that can contribute an Army Corps or two for service. It cannot compete with Northumberland or Lancashire, but in ratio to its numbers it can rest content with the historian’s verdict on the numbers raised voluntarily for the field. Before the fate of the conscript clouded the fine fancy of Sir John Simon, Bedfordshire, with its population of two souls to each acre, had put fourteen battalions into the field, and the equivalent of a brigade had enlisted into non-county units.”

Another stirring story of the gallantry of the Bedfords comes in a letter from Lieutenant Colonel Lord Ampthill. He writes in May 1917 to the widowed mother of a Bedford Sergeant who was killed on April 17th, after being recommended not only for a commission, for his part in two successive days’ fighting, but also for the Military Medal and then the D.C.M.;

“The Brigade was ordered on the 15th to attack a portion of the German trenches which were strongly held and obstinately defended. The -th Bedfords alone succeeded in gaining their objective, and were obliged to hold on for three days without support from either flank. They were then attacked from three sides, and had to resist frequent counter attacks of bombing parties. During all this desperate fighting your son behaved with the greatest gallantry and coolness. When the Company was cut off by the enemy he handled his platoon with skill and resourcefulness, and fought his way back to the main body. He volunteered to carry a message to a party of ten men cut off by the enemy, and succeeded in doing so. The same night his platoon was driven back twice, and each time regained the lost ground by bombing attacks. On the night of the 17th he was stopping a determined rush when he was killed, and he fell shouting, ‘Steady, the Bedfords!’ The platoon rallied round his body and regained the ground. It was thus that your son died as noble a death as a soldier would wish for.”

Regarding tanks, writing in July 1917 to his fiancée, at St. Albans, Private C. E. Dukes, of the Bedfordshire Regt., says they “do up prisoners in bundles like the straw-binders, and in addition have an adaptation of a ‘Goss’ printing machine, enabling them to catch the Huns, fold, count and deliver them in quires, every thirteenth man being thrown out a little farther than the others. They can truss refractory prisoners like fowls prepared for cooking, also charge into a crowd of Huns and by shooting out spokes like porcupine quills, carry off an opponent on each; they likewise chew up barbed wire and turn it into munitions. As they run they slash their tails and clear away trees, houses, howitzers and everything else in the vicinity. They turn over on their backs and catch live shells in their caterpillar feet; loop the loop, travel forwards, sideways and backwards, spin round like a top, only far more quickly, dig themselves in, bury themselves, scoop out a tunnel and come out again ten miles away in half-an-hour. These Tanks can do anything and everything; in fact if there is anything that can’t be done, a Tank can do it.”

In August 1917 the full story of how Private Christopher Cross won the Victoria Cross is made public. On March 14th with his Brigade he went over the top to attack the village of Achiet-le-Grand, but the advance was unexpectedly held up by barbed wire. With every type of enemy fire directed onto the troops, few lived to reach the wire, and those that did were completely wiped out. Orders were then given to take cover wherever possible, but many wounded men were already lying out in the open under terrific shell fire, and, knowing that they would bleed to death if left unattended, Private Cox, who was in charge of a stretcher party, asked permission to retrieve them. He was advised by the commanding officer to wait until dark, since a stretcher party of the Middlesex Regiment had just been killed whilst on a similar mission, but nevertheless Private Cox went out alone, and was hit by three small fragments of high explosive shell in the fleshy part of a leg. As the bone was not broken, and his puttees acted as a dressing, he carried on, but now being the only man not under cover every gun was directed on him. However, unscathed he reached a man who was slowly bleeding to death, and managed to drag and carry him to cover. He then went forward again, and in a shell hole found two of his comrades - a sergeant and a private - lying under three corpses, which had been blown onto them by a shell burst. In two heavily laden journeys he took them back through the fire zone to a position of safety, before going out again to bring in a man who had shrapnel wounds in every part of his body. Now completely exhausted, Private Cox was placed in a temporary hospital accommodated in a farmhouse, and there he remained for two weeks whilst recovering from his wounds. Shortly after this his battalion was again ordered into the firing line, in the Arras sector, and on May 3rd took part in the attack on the village of Cherisy. Private Cox was again in charge of a stretcher party, but while dressing the wounds of a man he was struck in the foot by a rifle bullet, and had to be taken out of the action.

A Leighton Buzzard man, who was a civilian when war broke out, is now a veteran soldier, and in the latter half of 1917 writes;

“No doubt hundreds of your readers, in fact the majority of them, have grown accustomed to reading in the papers nearly every morning: “A successful raid was carried out by us last night east of so-and-so,” or “Last night the enemy raided our positions north of so-and-so.” In fact such items have become such a common part of the official news that I venture to wager that not one in a hundred give them a second thought, much less do they realise what a little hell on earth a raid is. Perhaps a description of one would interest them? The system of raiding is much the same on both sides. A mysterious hour, frequently altered, is known to every Battalion as “zero.” The word goes round that at such and such a time from zero the raid will be made. Puzzles having been worked out and watches consulted, the actual time becomes known to all. Right, Volunteers? Yes; plenty of ’em. We will say thirty are wanted. The men having been chosen, they are shown a map of the particular piece of trench they are to raid. If there are gaps in the enemy wire, so much the better; if not the tasty job of crawling under it is added to the list of difficulties. The men don’t need any telling what to do when they get there! They know all about that. Information is wanted; that means a prisoner must be brought back. One prisoner; if they run into a whole bunch, well - they’re on a raid! Now for the arrangements with the artillery. At 12.13 every man must be under the German barbed wire. Their faces have been blacked so as not to show up, and they are armed to the teeth. At 12.13 what is known as a “kettle-drum” bombardment is opened by the artillery on the German front line. All of you have heard the roll of a kettle drum in a brass band. Can you imagine what it sounds like when guns of all sizes fire at the same rate? Added to that our trench mortar batteries are flinging over shells at top speed, and Vickers guns are pumping across bullets at three or four hundred a minute. At this point it is no use for anyone who has never witnessed it to try to imagine what the German front line looks like in the 200 yards or so that comprises the raid area; still less can anyone imagine the feelings of the raiding party who are lying flat under the wire, with the above-mentioned shower bursting ten yards in front of them. But they are out on the big gamble with three prizes: 1st blighty; 2nd return as you went; 3rd death. Some gamble, eh? Hardly like a franc on the ace at vingt-un. Yet so marvellously accurate is our artillery that casualties, even with men so close to the range, are very few indeed. The Germans know very well, when this inferno is let loose on them, that something is coming off. If there are any of your readers who think the Germans are fools, they may take it from me that such is far from being the case. They immediately send up their distress signals (usually red and green lights, side by side), and their artillery and trench mortars, machine guns and “darts,” take a hand in the game and give our front line beans, or set up a barrage in No Man’s Land to prevent anyone who has not got over from getting over, and to keep those who have got over from returning. We now return to the time. “At 12.13 our artillery will heavily bombard the front line. At 12.15 it will lift to the second line. At 12.22 every man, no matter what he is doing, will leave the trench and return.” A signal, which it would be indiscreet for me to mention, has been pre-arranged. 12.15 - after two minutes that seems years - the barrage lifts. The artillery are on the second line. Up spring the dear old lads from the wire. Three leaps take them in to the German trench and they are hard at it. You haven’t got the whole newspaper to spare, I suppose? Then I will leave out the next seven minutes. The signal to get back has been seen; God knows how the journey will be accomplished, for that barrage has to be got through. However, a start is made and the great gamble begins. For perhaps an hour the party tumble into their own trench; some wait in No Man’s Land to see if things will “quieten down” a little; some come back a different way. Before daybreak the officer or N.C.O. call the roll. So-and-so was helped in wounded; so-and-so has gone down to the dressing station with a smashed arm. Where are old Jack and Bill then? Someone was sure they left the German trench. A search party immediately volunteers to face the music again, foremost among them being some of Kaiser Bill’s “contemptible” black faced lads who have just come back. They crawl about and search till nearly daybreak and perhaps bring back something that they carefully cover up with an old sandbag. Bill and Tom have had a fight and won; a gamble and lost. At six in the morning the sun shines brilliantly. The larks are singing high up in the air. Not a shot is being fired on either side; it is hard to realise at the moment that there is a war on. A black faced lad sits and looks vacantly at his untouched breakfast; yesterday morning he had a pal, but as the morning papers say, “Last night a successful raid was carried out east of so-and-so.”

A Bedfordshire man, who took part in the Cambrai fighting, writes in December 1917;

“A little account of the scrap around Ribecourt may not be without interest. There is not the slightest doubt that the Tanks deserve nine tenths of the praise for the success of the first day’s work. The swarm of these uncanny monsters that waddled over put “the wind right up” poor old Fritz and knocked all the fight out of him. Compared with previous experiences the journey over the top on Nov. 20th was a cake walk. For three weeks before the actual attack we had rehearsed the whole thing miles away; so that every man knew exactly what he had to do and where he had to go. We even knew where each dug-out, sap, machine gun and trench mortar was to be found! About November 15th we entrained for ----, and rested for the night in the “backward area.” The next night we moved to the “middle area,” where we began to glean some idea of what it was going to be like. There were Tanks all over the place. Ammunition and provisions and all kinds of transport were going up in streams. On the 17th we had got to our final resting place before the assault. On the night of the 19th we got up to about 1100 yards of the Hindenburg line. How the Germans missed hearing the Tanks get into position beats me to this day. There was absolutely a din. We all thought the game would be tumbled to, but our luck was right in. We lay down to rest from 10 o’clock till 6 next morning on a field. At 5 the rum was issued and at 5.15, led by our Tanks, thousands of men, reaching for miles, started off. Our particular company had three Tanks in front and three on the flank. We hadn’t gone more than two minutes before the guns at the back started such a hell that I have never heard the equal of, and I’ve heard a few. Fritz’s outpost line was taken with a rush by another company. After ten minutes or a quarter of an hour of slow progress (the Tanks don’t believe in rushing) the three wide belts of barbed wire came in sight, and I found myself praying that nothing would happen to our Tanks before they had got through that lot, as no mortal would have done it without their help. At about this time we began to get casualties. At last the leading tank crashed clean through the first belt, and immediately afterwards made a similar mess of the second and third and waddled across the trench. Before the back part of it had climbed out the infantry, rushing through the gaps, swarmed into the trench and started dishing out the “soup” to anyone who fancied any. I and my mate, from the high parapet, fired 350 rounds in comparative safety, though one bullet knocked the butt of the Lewis gun round to an angle of about 45. Our company took over 50 prisoners, collected about as many souvenirs, and settled down to drink Fritz’s coffee. His brown bread was too awful for words. Ribecourt, just on our left, fell about this time, and our men drove him over the ridge. Troops were pouring up and keeping him on the move, and on the 20th advanced about three miles up towards Cambrai. The next afternoon we left our captured trench and went right up to the existing front line, from where we could see Cambrai. There were plenty of cavalry about. Having held that bit for three days and nights - which I shan’t forget in a hurry - we went back to a marvel of a German dug-out that held all the company. Then came the German breakthrough on the right, and we were rushed over there to reinforce the Guards, but we were not needed. The following morning the Guards made a counter attack and gave him a terrible hiding, taking over 500 prisoners. After that came our “tastiest” job so far. No one knew whether Marcoing was occupied by the Germans or not, and our company was given the job of finding out. We started about midnight, feeling none too gay after what we had already gone through. Luckily - for us - they had evacuated the place. We crossed one canal, and were then faced with another, on the other side of which the German lights going up told us they were there. We dug in between the two canals, our platoon guarding the lock, which was the only means of crossing. Next day it became quite obvious that they knew nothing of our presence there, for they were walking about in the wood opposite in dozens. We had orders not to fire unless anyone attempted to cross the lock; so there we had to sit with a good Lewis gun and watch ’em strutting about! To say the boys were wild is a mild way of expressing it. But we were sent to find out where they were exactly - and we did it and cleared out the next night. May I, for one, never get into a similar position.”

Serving with the Royal Berks. Machine Gun Section, Corporal Gilbert Nelson Cheshire, the eldest son of Mr. H. W. Cheshire, the parish Churchwarden of North Marston, has died in hospital from wounds received in action. Sent from France, his parents have received the following letter from 2nd Lieutenant Saqui;

“He was wounded on July 3rd in the trenches by a shell while he was in charge of a gun in a very important position. He was taken away at once by stretcher bearers, and we thought he would pull through, and we were all very deeply grieved when we heard a few days later that he had died. He has been in my section as a Corporal for over two months, and his quiet, competent, and generous ways quickly won for him the respect and affection of officers and men. His death is doubtless a great loss to you, but be comforted in knowing that he died like a soldier, in action, and that his memory will always be treasured by all who came into contact with him. I desire to convey my sympathies to his mother, yourself, and all his relations in their sad bereavement.”

Before the war, Corporal Cheshire had been employed by Mr. W. Astor, Cliveden. Soon after war was declared he joined the 5th Royal Berkshires, and had been in France for about 16 months.

W.E. 1917 Jan. 19th

Fitter Reg. Hill, “O” Battery, R.H.A., has been awarded the Croix de Guerre, and has received the following notice in the orders of the 18th French Division;

“On 17th Nov., 1916, he went into an area which was being heavily shelled in order to pick up a Corporal of French Engineers, who had been wounded, and carried him to a neighbouring Aid Post - this shows a fine soldierly example.”

The D.A.A. and Q.M.G. xv. Corps, 8th Division, issued the following;

“I am directed to forward a “Croix de Guerre” and “Ordre de la Division,” from Le General Niessel, Commandant le 9th Corps d’Armee Francaise, for presentation to Fitter R. Hill, “O” Batt., R.H.A., 8th Division. The Corps Commander wishes to add his congratulations.”

W.E. 1917 Feb 2nd

Now here is the problem which has puzzled me ever since I joined the Army, and I’ve had 19 years’ service, says Captain Blaikie. The further away you remove the British soldier from the risk of personal injury, the higher you pay him. Out here a private of the line gets about a shilling a day. For that he digs, saps, marches, and fights like a hero. The motor transport driver gets six shillings a day, no danger, and lives like a fighting cock. The Army Service Corps drive about in motors, pinch our rations, and draw princely incomes. Staff Officers are compensated for their comparative security by extra cash and first chop at the war medals. Now - why.”

B.S. 1917 Apr. 28th

Extracts from a letter, recently received from a member of the Northamptonshire Yeomanry, illustrate the “thrill” of returning to cavalry warfare;

“Since you left we have been right in the thick of it. Instead of going to Towcester Races last Easter Monday, as was the usual occurrence in days gone by, we set out for the scene of action, taking our “portmanteaux” with us. The weather was on its worst behaviour - snowing, freezing, and raining all the time. You know my old saying, “Wait until we start trekking!” Well, it has come off at last, and we were with our horses in action for four days, and had the unique experience of sleeping behind our horses with the ground all slush and snowing all the time. It was very trying to us all, especially after coming out of warm billets. In one of the charges we had a good number of casualties both amongst the men and horses. We caught it pretty hot, but I think we were very lucky considering the lead that was flying about. My word it did open our eyes - a vastly different change to the other warfare we have been used to. You ought to have heard the lads giving the ‘Tally Ho,’ the first time we charged on horseback; it would have made your heart beat like a kettle-drum, it was all excitement. The Colonel had a fall off his horse but he is all right now. After the Colonel’s mishap the Major led the regiment top-hole and as cool as a cucumber. I could write you pages about last week but I have not the time now. Your old horse came through without a scratch. How do things go in England? Let me know when you write; also, what is the opinion about the war, and how long they think it will last.”

W.E. 1917 July 6th

Lance Corporal Spalding, of the Beds. Regiment, has received the following from the Major General of his Division;

“Your Commanding Officer and Brigade Commander have informed me that you distinguished yourself in the operations near Loos on the 16th and 17th April, 1917, by organizing your stretcher bearers and tending the wounded of two companies without a rest of 14 hours.”

“Your Commanding Officer and Brigade Commander have informed me that you distinguished yourself at the Quadrilateral on September ??, 1916, by your gallantry in collecting wounded in the open in daylight under heavy shell fire. I have read these reports with much pleasure.”

Lance Corporal Spalding has been awarded the Military Medal, and has been recommended for the D.C.M.

W.E. 1917 Sep. 21st

‘One of our boys’ writes from Egypt;

“Oliver Thorneycroft is the leading star of a concert party somewhere in the desert, having a collection of wigs, etc. So you can guess that the troops around are well supplied with pleasant evenings. What a wonderful result the Fete in the Wolverton Park turned out! I must say the Wolverton people are very generous, and do their bit in helping towards the comfort of Tommy. Just imagine the beaming features of Dr. Harvey after his fine management of such an excellent fete! Really Wolverton has had many great shows since war commenced, and I only hope they will continue after the war in order to support other well deserving cases. One often hears of the complaint, ‘Beer 9d a pint.’ Well, they should take a trip to the land of experience where they would receive half a pint bottle of ale for 3½ piastres (8¾d), Guiness, half-pint bottle, 4 piastres (10d).”

W.E. 1918 Jan 4th

“Sir, I am sending you these few lines to thank the inhabitants of Wolverton for their kindness, and hope you can give it publication in the “Wolverton Express.” We, who are away in different parts of the world, all appreciate these Christmas gifts, especially now life is getting a bigger struggle every day. It is nice to feel one has so many friends ready to deny themselves for one’s sake, and it cheers one up. I have told fellows from different parts of Great Britain of Wolverton’s kindness from time to time, and they all say there should be more Wolverton’s about. I would like to be able to tell you about ourselves, but the Censor - Oh, my! We must not tell the truth and we must not tell a lie. We must not say anything that might give you an opportunity to form an opinion, so what would you have me say? However, take heart, dear friends, the Navy is still on top line ready for the Huns. But you do not hear about the Navy except what apparently do us no credit. Still you can rest in your beds at night and know there is no chance of being disturbed unless they fly over. Yes, the Navy en masse is very cheerful, and so you should be. Let us hope the War will be over by next Christmas, and then we can start peace on new lines. Now wishing you all a merry Christmas and a happy New Year. - Yours,

Captain John Douglas Young, M.C., Royal Bucks Hussars, who was a bearer at the funeral of the late Hon. Neil Primrose, M.P., and has since been wounded, writes in January 1918 of the action in which Lord Rosebery’s youngest son was killed;

“We have made two charges, which are being talked about all along the line. We charged in line over two miles of perfectly flat plain, swept by shells and machine gun fire. Our men and horses were mad with excitement. The enemy, about 3,000 strong, were in an almost impregnable position, on top of a long and very steep ridge, 200ft. high. We went straight to the top and into them. We captured all their machine guns, enormous quantities of ammunition, two guns and 1,200 prisoners, and we never stopped to count the dead.”

Of the second charge he says;

“We went part of the way dismounted, and then led our horses up, and charged again. Probably if we had not we should have been wiped out, as they outnumbered us six to one. But they hate the sight of our swords, and just as we reached the crest of the mountain (at least it looked like a mountain) they cleared. It was a wonderful sight. Neil Primrose was killed in the last charge, and Evelyn Rothschild (since dead) was dangerously wounded in the first. We buried poor Neil this morning. He was a very gallant fellow. It is a great country. I have ridden well over a hundred miles since Sunday. One of horses was hit yesterday, and I got a bullet in my water bottle. The spirit of our men is wonderful - they have not had a wash or a shave for 14 days, nor their boots off, and never a word or grumble from one of them.”

W.E. 1918 Jan. 18th

Flight Sub Lieutenant Macdonald, son of a Buckinghamshire tribunal’s military representative, writes from captivity at Limburg about his forced landing on the German side of the lines;

“I was in the first raid we did from the new place. One of the bombs failed to drop, and as he had no gun-layer at the back, my observer climbed to release it. On his way back, however, he unfortunately put his foot into the propeller, breaking it and his foot. There was a strong wind against us, and I couldn’t get back with one engine. We had to land, which operation I managed to effect on the top of a pine wood, completely wrecking the machine, but not hurting ourselves in the least. We soon discovered that we were in Germany, so gave ourselves up and made the best of a bad job.”

Of the prisoners’ camp, he writes;

“The food is not luxurious, but it is sufficient. At 8a.m. we have German black coffee and a slice of bread and jam; at noon, a large bowl of soup and a slice of bread, at 6p.m. another bowl of soup, more coffee, and another slice of bread, with jam or butter. This does not sound much, and we would give anything for a good square English meal, but under the circumstances it is not so bad. After our last meal we go to bed, and sleep the clock round. “

Since removed to the camp at Karlsruhe, he writes;

“We are waited on by a French private (prisoner, of course), who is a genius at cooking. To-day he made us a delightful pudding out of three apples and some broken stale biscuits. He can also make the most appetising puddings out of bully beef and potatoes. You ought to come here and take some letters in domestic economy.”

NBT 1918 June 11th Tue.

In June 1918 Colonel Lord Burnham, Hon. Colonel of the Royal Bucks Hussars, receives the following letter from Lt. Col. The Hon. F.H. Cripps, D.S.O., who had command of the regiment during the Palestine campaign;

“My dear Colonel. In the recent trial a statement was made that two officers in the regiment were murdered from the rear in the Palestine campaign. I desire to give an absolute and unqualified denial to this foul suggestion against the honour of the regiment and of two of my brother officers, who fell under Turkish fire while leading their men with great gallantry on two different occasions. Both Major Evelyn de Rothschild and Captain the Hon. Neil Primrose were near me when they fell, and in tribute to their memory I wish to make the most positive statement in contradiction of the abominable suggestion made at the recent trial. I hope that for the honour of the regiment you will make my statement as widely known as possible. Fred Cripps, Lt.-Col.”

(A suggestion was made during the Billing trial that these officers were murdered because they had knowledge of the mysterious German ‘Black Book’, which was said to contain the names of 47,000 Britishers who were known to have ‘weaknesses,’ and presumably could be influenced by Germany.)

W.E. 1918 Aug. 16th

In a letter dated July 27th, Bombardier R.C. Jones, Honourable Artillery Co., writes from Egypt;

“I have met Jack and Percy Welford, Joe Lovesay, Gibbons, of Windsor-street, and Harry Gates, of Wolverton-road, Stony Stratford. We have had several evenings together, so imagine how pleased we have been during the past week. Fred Swain is looking excellent, and has quite a decent party of workers (Joe and Jack Gibbons). Some lads altogether. Dunnleavy is in the R.A.M.C. detail camp, and expects to go up the line shortly. Alf Emerton is amongst the orange and lemon groves

NBT 1918 Nov. 19th Tue.

At Husborne Crawley, news of the Armistice came as a great relief, and the village flag was quickly flying from the church tower. Early in the evening the bells rang out and the schoolchildren, who had been given a half day holiday, had secured many fireworks. At Woburn the schools were closed, ‘and the children did their best to make the town lively.’ Fireworks were permitted, and ‘for all who could give vent to their feelings in this manner’ the Market Hill became the venue. Soon after the news had been received the church bells were rung, as also in the evening, and with the clock now again striking the hours, a special thanksgiving service took place. At Mentmore, the bells of St. Mary’s Church were joyfully rung, and with the ensign on the church turret being run up, 15 ladies and five men turned up at the belfry, all wanting a hand in the rejoicings. In fact for two hours the bells were rung continuously, and at night the ladies returned to ring another peal.