I have just received a telephone message that the Germans did attack, and were repulsed, losing heavily. They left 3 officers and 300 men dead on one road alone from our fire. Hope our losses are light.
In Billets.
January 27th, 1915.
Sorry to hear from your letter that you are still in bed. I do not see as much of my own bed as I would like to at present, but this thing has to be seen through. Being the Kaiser’s birthday, we anticipated an attack, so to cheer our friends up and to show them what they might expect we opened on them at 5 o’clock this morning with our heavy guns. Such a row you never heard. The unbroken panes of glass in my room have long ago had all the putty shaken out and they rattle away to any extent when the guns are fired. It is very cold and chilly over here now, but not freezing, and we are rejoicing in the defeat of the Germans. They appear to be better at killing women and children with their men-of-war than fighting our ships when they meet them. I must say I have a poor opinion of them, not of their fighting qualities, but because they behave so badly. Curiously enough, the enemy never replied to our bombardment. It was directed on our right front, where poor Bannon, my servant, whom you will remember in Dover, was killed, and where we think these beauties gather in the mornings and stand to arms. It was a good bombardment. If some of them were about, there must be a lot killed. I did all I could to cheer everyone on. Well, I went for a ride yesterday after discussing your most excellent partridges at lunch, and saw my new draft. I am very strong, despite my losses, and I would like to show you my battalion when it first came out of the trenches and a month afterwards; you would see the difference! We are about twice as strong as the regiment was under Col. Napier at Dover. I heard from Admiral Gaunt yesterday. He has just been promoted, and is in charge of naval barracks. I must write him a note this morning. Wonderful people the French women! They are like cats the way they cling to their homes. The lady of this house has now returned, small baby and all, and has asked for two rooms. Having succeeded, she has got an old attempt at a carpenter in, and is boarding up the broken windows, etc. The bullet hole in the door will puzzle him unless he stops it up with a cork. Anyhow, they are making a most horrible din, banging away. I forgot to say that yesterday my Mother sent me from Oakfield two pairs of thick strong socks and some Canadian chocolate. Most useful, and very kind. I shall write soon to thank her.
In Billets.
January 28th, 1915.
This being our last rest day, I was out shortly after five o’clock with our acting General inspecting a new work. It is not healthy to do so much later in the day. We found two shell holes in it as it was, and the thing is only traced out, not made as yet. For Lady Bell’s address [the Governor of Aden’s wife] you will find a book giving it in my despatch case. Please send her my history as promised. I heard from Lady Macready yesterday, full of life as usual. She and I have been friends for a very long time, and we used to ride together in Egypt years ago. Sir Nevil has been motoring round the south of France inspecting Indian rest camps, and spent two days at Avignon on leave. I managed to obtain the Distinguished Conduct Medal for the bugler who always accompanies me everywhere on my peregrinations. He has been with me through some nasty times, though nothing to talk about very much, and I am glad to be able to reward him. Besides, it is good for the men to find that any work well done under my own eye may win them some recognition. I was out for a scamper yesterday afternoon inspecting my transport. This latter, by-the-by, has been very favourably reported on as the best looked after in the division (I am told). It is flattering, but one never knows! My Brigadier also complimented me on the smartness of my guards at Brigade Headquarters. If you saw the poor dears crawling out of the trenches, caked with mud and numbed with wet and cold, you could not understand how they could turn themselves out fairly decently twenty-four hours later, when they only have the one suit they are actually wearing all the time. I have not heard if the Saddler’s Company proposes to send me any coffee, but I expect to hear in due course. As to the numb feeling in one’s feet, one never has time to rub oneself over with Bengue’s ointment. It will have to stand until the summer, I expect. The cake has duly arrived, and is tucked away until to-night, when we arrive in our trenches again, worse luck!…
In Trenches.
January 29th, 1915.
No letter from you last night; it must have missed the mail; but there were several others. One from the dentist; please put it in my drawer at home for reference. Another letter was from Mabel Stevens saying that Percy was home again with a bad leg; and yet a third was from the remount officer who bought my horse for the Government, telling me that he is afraid the chestnut “Goldfinch” has been mixed up with some horses at Southampton and given out to other people. So ends poor “Goldfinch’s” career as far as I am concerned. We hear some amusing reports from the prisoners on our right. They say we took 2 officers and 80 men, besides killing a large number of the 7,000 who attacked our particular trench; also that the Germans expect to beat the Russian Army in May, and that we have 150,000 Japanese soldiers holding India for us! I never heard this before, nor anyone else either! I fancy they were freely plied with ration rum, no doubt someone else going short, and thus their original opinions were found out. Last night was beautifully clear, with a moon. About 2 a.m. we became aware that a party of the enemy were out in front of us only 50 yds. away, so we stealthily gathered our men up and opened a rapid fire on them. They fled to their trenches for dear life, and have been very vicious ever since. One of my men was shot internally just now. I have got him away in a motor ambulance in the hopes that an operation may save his life. I was told yesterday that Gen. Joffre said the war would be over in March, he thought, from financial reasons. (I wonder?) The other story I heard last night in the trenches was that Rothschild met Kitchener and asked him when his army was going across. K. replied: “250,000 in February, and 250,000 in March.” R. replied: “The 250,000 in February will go, but there will be no reason for sending the 250,000 in March.” Of course, this is quite an improbable story, and K. would never really tell R. anything, and R. would never repeat it. Anyhow, my line is fairly strong, so that if it is not over they will not break through here. I am sitting facing a window with a bright sun shining; two of the enemy shells have just come over and burst. They each threw a shadow as they passed. I have never seen that before. They fired a lot at us yesterday. One six-inch howitzer sent a shell 50 yds. from us. We of course seized the pieces as new playthings, and found first a horrible odour arising from some acid in their high explosive, and then that the shell appeared to be cast only of iron, and not steel. The piece I have in front of me weighs about a pound, with dreadful jagged edges. So soon as this shelling stops I must sneak off to try and put our cemeteries straight. I am having some very nice wooden crosses made for my poor men. Do tell me how Mr. Denison is? He might be interested in some of this news, as he was a gunner, and it is all about shells, if ever I get home to tell him! In the middle of this shelling both sides firing hard at each other, one of my buglers has arrived with a carrier pigeon which was knocked down by a stone. The French officer attached to our division told me that the Germans had spent large sums of money and established many spies as farmers here. They intended coming in this way to France, you see. Then they had telephone wires laid down towards Germany from various places, and I am inclined to think some have been found. Now our numerous trenches having cut these wires, they have to depend on something else, and I believe that something to be carrier pigeons. The way they shell the ground we occupy makes me think they really know where we are, and our own military authorities do not like to take drastic action against a person who poses as a French farmer or his wife looking for their lost property, when of course all the time they are possibly farmers who have been in German pay, and are probably sending information across by carrier pigeon daily. I hope that Wilkinson in Newark is making a good thing of the steel armour. It is rather a fine trophy to have, I think….
P.S
.—I discovered our gunners shelling a beautiful French cemetery the other day, because the Germans had found that we respected churches, etc., and they therefore opened the vaults and lived in them in the cemetery!
In Trenches.
January 30th, 1915.
Two letters from you last night, taking me up to January 27th. So glad to hear that you are really better. I do not know what would happen to us if we got “Flu.” I suppose we should go on exactly the same. One of the enemy’s six-inch shells has just burst beside us, so I must keep my eyes open! I started work soon after five o’clock this morning getting road dykes cleared, as by this means I think I can drain my own trenches better. The water has been running away merrily ever since. Major B——, who came back about one o’clock this morning, was helping me. I had just turned in, but my feet got so cold. I can never sleep straight on end for four hours in my room. The Germans again attacked on our right twice yesterday afternoon. The two attacks were beaten off with heavy loss to the enemy, I believe. I was out with one of my staff inspecting some works, and met the Colonel of the Lincolns with his staff. I asked him to tea, and he refused on the ground that “shelling time” had arrived, and he did not wish to go near our Headquarters. Whilst he trotted off to inspect one work, I went to another, and sure enough he was quite right. “Shelling time” had arrived; for, instead of going for my Headquarters as usual, they proceeded to shower shrapnel on the work he had just got into, fortunately, without killing or hurting any of his party. Our guns are now replying, and bits of our ruin are falling down from the shock. Poor Gen. Baron von Ompteda! He was in the Prussian Army. It is sad that he is killed, since you knew his wife, poor thing! Naturally one prays for the heart of the German nation to be changed, but for me, pending that change, I am doing my business methodically. I have just been pointing out to the Siege Battery people where their shells will have the best effect on the enemy. I forgot, I think, to tell you that we obtained information from some of our prisoners of the last three days that they found our rifle fire very deadly. Well, one of the regiments that attacked us had already lost from our fire 320 men since January 20th only until the 27th inst…. Not bad, and quite true, I believe; and this going on all along the line. There was bright moonlight last night with snow, and I may tell you that I walked warily! I had one man killed and another wounded by the same bullet yesterday….
In Trenches.
January 31st, 1915.
I am now waiting for your letter to-night. I cut from The Times of January 29th “Soldiers’ Morals” and Lady McClintock’s views. Major Baker brought this paper across with him when he returned. Well, it is trying to snow now, and rather cold. Yesterday I came under the fire of a machine gun in the course of my afternoon rounds. I had gone to see some works that the Artillery were building and which I had to supervise. Hearing a fight break out on our right, I called to the Engineers who were working on the parapets to jump down, as the machine gun which was near us might be turned on them. They had barely done so, and I had hardly gone forward with an officer to get some other men under cover, when the next moment the bullets were whistling all over me. I soon flew from that spot at the first crash, and got under cover myself; a quick decision does help one at times! After being pinned there for ten minutes or so, I managed to creep away and get on with my rounds. There has been a cannonade on my right all morning of the heaviest Gunner shells, I think, but we luckily go into reserve this evening, and, failing any great alarms, are allowed to have our boots off, and do not get up at 5 a.m. as usual. Another curious incident occurred. Suddenly we heard the most appalling noise, and the shell of one of our own heavy guns was seen turning head over heels and falling solemnly within 50 yds. of a ruin where some 100 soldiers were quartered. It burst and sent any amount of rubbish over the house. What happened was that part of the shell was defective. It really was the driving band, which is a ring made out of copper and riveted on. When the shell is fired, the soft copper ring slides into the steel rifling of the gun, and thus the shell goes straight with a spinning motion. The ring having become unriveted, the shell did not spin, and simply turned head over heels. Was it not fortunate that it missed the house? It is because they have no copper for these rings that the Germans are making such strenuous efforts to find some. Nothing else except silver or gold would be tough enough as well as pliable enough for the purpose. They can make their fuses of aluminium as we do, but copper for cartridge cases and driving bands they must have, and they cannot get it….
LETTERS OF FEBRUARY, 1915.
In Billets.
February 1st, 1915.
My dearest F——
Here we are in our reserve billets, and not sorry either. The enemy threw a shell in beside us this morning as I was getting up, to show that he had not forgotten us! It must have come 5 miles at least. He is a humorist, too, of a grim sort, for 3 days ago he bombarded the little town (French) of Estaires with French shells. I suppose some gun he had captured from them. Anyhow, his ammunition is certainly, as a rule, not as good as the stuff he was using. Have a headache this morning. I often get one after 3 days in trenches. There was a great hue and cry after a German spy yesterday. Telephones going all over the place. I was wickedly sceptical about him from the first, and ultimately triumphantly proved him to be an officer of the —— Regiment who had been detached on some duty. The unfortunate gentleman had an impediment in his speech, and this was noted down as proving him to be a German, of course! Six divisions of K.’s new army are expected to cross over to France this month. I hear that the Canadians have also arrived, and that they are full of dash. Thanks for collars, duly received. They will last me a long time. Major Baker brought some mincepies back with him. Mr. Argles wonders if I have time to see any of the sports out here! No one has the least idea of how busy one is out of the trenches getting rifles right and men cleaned to keep them from dirt whilst in the trenches, when it is impossible to do anything, for you cannot lift your head there for fear of having it punctured before you pull it down again…. You ask if I have seen any of my relatives who are at the front. No. I think they are all farther back, and if they should come up where I am they would have an awful time of it…. I hear the whirr of an aeroplane. I wonder if it is ours or a German bomb dropper; you never know which it may be! So glad to hear you are feeling better.
Yours….
G——
February 2nd, 1915.
I must say that I think quite the worst news we have received so far in this war is the sinking of those three ships in the Irish Sea by the German submarines. The British Navy must just get to work and build a submarine destroyer which will catch and destroy these nuisances. As a matter of fact, I believe a great many more German submarines have been sunk than the British public know of, because it is not announced unless the Admiralty is absolutely certain. For instance, the other day an old naval carpenter who works on the Bayfordbury Estate in Hertfordshire, and who returned to his naval duties when the war broke out, told Major Baker that whilst dragging for mines in the German Ocean they had come against two submarines lying on the bottom of the sea, and, having nothing else to do, they dropped a charge on them and blew them up. That may be correct or not. I have certainly heard that this happened in one case, officially. A long letter from my sister Meta arrived by the last post yesterday; still moving into Oakfield after building up the old house again since the fire. I went for a ride yesterday with Major B., looking up some roads in case of a move. The Germans tried to pour shrapnel on the road on the way back, but fortunately missed us by going short. There was a large party of another division on it, and I suppose they had got wind of this. A curious thing to notice is as follows: When a shell starts out on its journey it travels more quickly than the sound. Sound moves at the rate of about a mile in 5 seconds. After a little while the shell begins to go more slowly, and then the sound overtakes it and travels ahead. We were just where we could see the shell burst with a flash and a white puff of smoke, and could still he
ar the whirr of the shell rushing towards us until it ended with a loud bang, though we had in reality seen it burst a second or so before. We went to a rather fine church destroyed by fire. I asked what had happened, and was told that the Germans had been there, and when they were forced to retreat they put a certain number of their dead inside the church with a lot of straw, then some of the villagers, and finally made one of the women set fire to the straw by holding a revolver to her head and threatening to shoot her. The man said that the village priest had told him this shocking story. I asked how the Germans had behaved otherwise, and he said, “Very well in one sense.” They had been billeted on the people, who were obliged to feed them; but, of course, it is war. When, however, they had to retire, they refused to pay for anything, and tried, as the inhabitants explained, to incite them with a view of getting an excuse to burn their houses and then shoot them. As the village people kept their heads, they threw down half a mark and left. I thought, on the whole, they were well rid of their visitors! You asked if I required any more soap or paper. At present, nothing, thanks; Major B—— has just given me a new writing block. A cake and mincepies are, however, always most welcome. How greedy one does become after a time! Such a horrid blustery day, and heavy rain coming down this morning. We had Holy Communion at 8 a.m. in a ruined nunnery with our Cowley Father officiating. Only 3 turned up from the whole Battalion. Our General has had to go away this morning into hospital with fever. Mr. Laing, whom your cousin M—— D—— asked about, is now in bed with the same sort of complaint….
Letters of Lt.-Col. George Brenton Laurie Page 9
