Diary Entry and Letter Home - 3rd December, 1915

Diary entry

Proceed to the O.B at 6.45 with Siggers. When we wake up, find a foggy morning awaiting us and we have a welcome cup of hot coffee in the kitchen before setting out. Arrive at the O.B. and retire to the Mess room, as it is impossible to see beyond the road. At 8.00, we wander down to the trenches to have a look around and, after getting mud to the ankles, return to await breakfast. At 8.30 Loadie of the 15th arrives, and with him arrives our breakfast, which is very welcome. At 10.00, a terrier officer from the 15th joins us, and we unearth our primus stove and get it going with what little oil we have. At 12.00 we sally forth to explore a mine laid in an adjoining house by the infantry but are stopped by an Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders sentry before we reach the sap head. On parlaying outside the O.B., our Colonel Powell pops round the corner and disturbs us. He asks me a few questions as to who I am and whether I am related to the Manifold of the artillery, to which I add that I am a distant relation, and he mentions to his friend that I am not unlike the aforesaid John. At 2.15 the mist clears and we have some shooting for an hour, the Bosch also dropping a few whizbangs behind our lines. However, the light fails again and there is very little done. On returning for tea, Siggers and I have an exciting five minutes near Harley Street as they search the La Bassée road with pipsqueaks. Each time the shells came over, Siggers and self crouched in the middle of the road, feeling far from pleased. It was also rather amusing to notice the infantry stretched at full length in the mud behind trees on the side of the road. However, the shells went well over us, even though they sounded uncomfortably near at the time.

Letter Home

3rd December.

France

December 3rd, 1915

Dear Mother,

I hope you were not very surprised to get the cable to say we had gone to France. It has been a bit sudden, but must expect these things in wartime.

Well, things are sliding along here much the same as usual. We always let off about 150 rounds at the Bosch, and he seldom retaliates. I have been taking things easy this week as must have caught a chill last week some time and was not feeling too good for three days. On Monday, I saw the doctor, who said I was to stay inside and eat some of his pills, so I finally retired to bed on Monday evening, stopped there on Tuesday, and remained in the mess on Wednesday. I am glad to say that I am fit again now.

On Saturday and Sunday, it froze very hard, and was bitterly cold, but the last three days have been very mild. We gave the Germans a small bombardment on Sunday, and Monday we did not do much, but the big guns loosed off about 600 rounds each. Our O.C. was at the observing station in the morning, and the 8 inch hows started dropping their shells very short – in fact they dropped two just to the left of the O.B. and frightened all our men very much. They say the frosty weather made a difference of 1000 yards in their range and they took some time to get onto the enemy's trenches, but when they did I believe they moved sandbags, earth and parapet for yards around.

On Tuesday, the Bosch tried to get some of his own back, and he dropped about 100 5.9 inch hows about 200 yards in front of our battery. They made some nice little holes about 4 foot deep by 6 foot. It was not very pleasant, lying in bed, listening to these things whistle down, then explode with a loud crash. They seemed much closer than they were, as the wind was blowing from that direction. However, no damage was done, except that a splinter carried away about four tiles from the Sergeants' Mess, which is on the right of our Mess.

On Wednesday, the Bosch banged a few pipsqueaks (77 min) at the battery. He was evidently searching about down the La Bassée road at the back of us and the shortest was a good 100 yards over us. The aeroplanes have been very active this week, especially the Bosch. He has been trying to find our guns' position - in fact, a plane observed for the 5.9 in on Tuesday.

Last afternoon, 20 British machines flew over us on a raid. They looked like so many birds, and you should have seen the Bosch plaster the sky with shrapnel and high explosives. It was simply covered with bursts, but I don't think any of them were hit.

Today I am at the O.B. I think it will be very quiet, as it is misty and there is very little shooting done when you can't observe your shots. It was grand getting some letters dated October 16th. Bee sent them on to me. They are very acceptable out here. Goodness knows what life in the trenches must be like. I am told they spend all the day preparing meals. I had my first bath last night and feel very clean today. The bath consists of a camp tub with about a bucket of warm water in the bottom of it. I was down a piece of the communication trench this morning. They are wonderfully made and zigzag all over the place. The floor is either brick or covered with wood.

It was most amusing here just now: we have a primus stove to keep us warm - it is a brand-new one - and one of our men plus another man of the 15th battery have been trying to get it going. Neither of them know a thing about it, but one finally got it going feebly, and I suggested pricking the jet. They both got outside when, in pricking it, the flame went out and the vapour flew in the air.

Walford.

P.S. By the way, you might tell Jack that we have a man attached to us from the Terriers called Alhewson. He says he was a sergeant in a section of O.T.C., with Jack a corporal. He does an awful lot of talking and seems to like his own voice, much to the O.C.'s annoyance.