Typescript copy of diary entries of Percy Wellesley Chapman, 26 July 1916 to 9 March 1917 - Part 2

11.
but it seems to me somehow
That this brawny hard faced Scotchman
To sing should not contrive
Still - he is Morgan - just old Morgan
And he keeps us all alive!

The C.O just picked up the piece of paper on which I wrote the above.
He is a very good critic and said it was 'Piffle' which it is not - but
it doesn't matter. I hope he does not know who wrote it - The stars
are shining outside - so we ought to be able to get to work soon now -
I have the honour of leading B. Company on the parapet when we make our 

charge. Captain Stutsbury - who is at present O.C of B. Company has 

to act as intelligence officer. I had to go down yesterday to the 

Front Trenches to see where we go over from - and got the bearings generally
of the country. You could not imagine what a shambles the whole 

place looks! We have a couple of bombing posts that run out to within 

thirty yards of Fritz's front line - without taking much notice of us -

and we do the same - The mud is so thick in front that most rifles are 

out of action. Dead men lie about just as they fell, some seem weeks 

old - others only a few days, but as the weather is cold they seem to 

last a considerable time. The trenches are indistinguishable owing to 

the number of shell holes - towards the front I dont think there is a 

square yard of soil that has not been hit by a shell. The front line 

is about five miles from our present quarters, which are situated near 

Montaubau. Last night it was my pleasant duty to meet the Brigadier 

and Brigade Major at a place about three miles from here known as 

Thistle-dump situated between High Road and Delville Road. When I come 

back we can have a look at it on the map. The Brigadier did not turn 

up till about 10 o'clock, and as the night was wild and stormy and 

absolutely pitch black, and the road knee-deep in mud I did not altogether
like the job. Not that I minded the weather conditions, but the 

task of picking ones way back past shell-holes and quag-mires with a 

Brigadier-General who is already soaked through, and holds you responsible
for cinducting him to Head Quarters by the shortest route is not 

an enticing job. But I got him home quite safe and sound, and he 

thanked me quite nicely afterwards so I went to be happy, and snuggled 

into my sleeping bag. To-day Ceres still continues to weep for her 

daughter Persephone, and the whole earth is bathed in her tears. Black 

storm clouds blot out the suns rays, while intermittent showers beat 

upon the canvas roof that the wind blows about in a discontented manner.

Once more the scene changes - my fighting in France seems to be sprinkled
with a great deal of ease. At present I am comfortably installed 

in a warm bed in the Duchess of Westminister's Hospital at Etaples - 

a beautiful - palatial place with kind nurses to wait on me. But you 

would like to know how I got here - The Australian Band is playing a
two-step - one that I am sure we have danced at Booloomimbah. Well -
The attack that was going to be made by us had been postponed so often 

that it seemed it would not come off at all owing to the wet conditions. 

but at last a fine day came which seemed to indicate finer weather for 

the event. C. and D. Companies were going to lead the first wave, while 

A. and B were forming the second. We left Montaubau about 1.30 p.m. for 

the Front Line but we had not gone more than a quarter of a mile before 

it came on to rain - Lord how it did rain! - The ground which was
 

12.
only just a little dry on the surface soon became worse than ever, &
as the 56th Battalion were in front of us - our progress was very slow.
After we left Thistledump we got into the region of the big guns. 9.2.
guns were those furthest back, then came the 6 in. guns, 4in and up
near the firing line the 18 pounders - These guns are concealed in pits,
during the day they can be easily seen - but at night when coming out
of the trenches one is apt to get in front of one of these by mistake
till a flash and a roar which almost knocks you down proclaims your
whereabouts - We got over the ridge near High-wood all right - but as
there were a good many of us we had to proceed through a sap known as 

Tuck Lone The rain had so soaked the ground that the sides of this sap 

in places had fallen in making puddles of liquid mud in places 18in.
deep, through which we had to wade. By the time we got to advanced
Brigade H.Q. and the Battalion dump - most of the men were getting a
bit tired - and as the 55th were blocked in front - and darkness was
falling prospects were not very inviting. As in the Front Line the
only thing to do is to stand or sit till some other Battalion relieves
you which is generally about three days - The Battalion dump is situated 

at a cross road - that is to say they were roads once but now -- well - 

it is possible to know where the road was in places - Shovels were being 

handed out to the men so that a jumping off place could be made in the 

front line. I wasstanding near Captain Stutsbury waiting for the 56th 

fellows to pass on, and make room when a shell burst overhead, pieces 

hurled themselves in the mud around, while I got a bang on the back of 

the thigh a bit worse than a kick from a horse. I hopped round for a 

bit but I knew there was not much wrong. However when I said it was 

only a bruise Stuts told me not to be a fool, so I limped off to the 

Q. M's dug-out. A Doctor came along afterwards and gave me a ticket to 

proceed to the rear to have the thing looked after but I did not go. 

Instead I slept with the Q.M Next morning before I got up I sent down 

word to Stutch that I would be down shortly. But when I got up my leg 

had a lump on it about the size of a foot-ball, and it didn’t look too 

pretty, so I decided I would go back to Montabau, and wait there a couple 

of days till it got better. I walked back but it was rather a weary 

walk. I found Major Carver in charge, and with him most of the officers 

of C and D Companies. The C.O had given orders they should remain as 

the conditions in front were so bad. I felt pretty miserable as I was 

not fit for duty, and yet I did not feel bad enough to go to Hospital.
The next day most of the other officers received orders to proceed down, 

so I got my things on to go down also; I had to do this on the quiet - 

as they told me I should not go down. But when I started it was no good, 

so I went to the Field Ambulance instead. I'm always frightened of Doctors
- they always exaggerate things. Anyway they they sent me on to 

the Casualty Clearance Station - and from there I was sent to the Duchess 

of Westministers - and from there across to England to the No.3 General 

Hospital where I am now in bed because I have no clothes to put on. 

Sometimes I like the Hospital - and at other times I just hate it. If 

I had a decent wound it would not be so bad.
7/12/16.
At last I am out of the Doctors hands although I must say that those
august personages were very lenient.as regards their treatment. Upon
leaving the Hospital I was given a slip of paper, and told to proceed
to Horseferry Rd. the Headquarters of the A.I.F Forces abroad - here I
was ushered into the presence of a Major to whom I gave my slip, and
 

13.
he in return - with a casual question as to how I was - gave me another
slip of paper with an order to hand it in at Room 13.A which I did and
in return got leave for fourteen days. The fellow in charge asked me if
I had received my Military Cross yet from the King - and upon learning
that I had not - asked my address - and said I would receive a telegram
in the course of a few days from the Lord Chamberlain to proceed to
Buckingham Palace. When he asked me my address I did not quite know what 

to say, as London is a big place especially when one does not know anybody
there, or the name of an Hotel to stay at. However I had had lunch 

the day before at Regent's Palace, and it seemed central enough - so I 

said "Regent's Palace" - I then returned to the Hospital for my clothes. 

There I met another officer - who like myself - was cast adrift upon the 

City of London to recuperate. We got our clothes - and had just hailed 

a taxi when we noticed two ladies in distress. These were V. A's - 

strangers of course - though I can count one of them now as one of my 

best friends. However we had the only taxi to be obtained - so of course 

we offered to take them with us. They were both very nice - and seemed 

to think that they had imposed upon us, and each wanted to pay her share. 

Of course we would not hear of that - On setting out one of the ladies 

gave her card to each of us and asked us to come and see her. I liked 

her - she seemed such a lady - although it was too dark in the taxi to 

see her face - or read her card. I decided I would call the next day-

Upon arrival at the Hotel I booked my room, had dinner, and then bethought 

me of my new acquaintance. Her card consisted of an envelope 

upon which she had written by the light of a match as we had driven along 

'Lady Turing' 87. Victoria St.
I called the next day - and I believe the following day and when I got
to know her better we went to "High Jinks" and the 'Bing Boys' and lunched 

at 'Les Gobelins' and 'An Petit Riche." Lady Turing is good to all
Australians - not the officers, I believe I am the only Australian officer
she knows - but to the privates in the Hospitals - taking them papers
and books and mothering them generally. Her husband died some time ago, 

her brother and cousin have both been killed in the War and now she has 

been left without anybody. I am very fond of her. I wrote and told her all 

about my folk at home - and showed her this Diary - You would all 

love her if you knew her. Have you ever heard of an English village 

called Codford? but of course you have not - It is only a little place 

with one shop, a Picture Show and a couple of Tea-rooms - Some of the 

Australians are camped here - and that is the reason of my presence - 

but I am before my story - I had a fortnights furlough after leaving 

Hospital which I spent in London. The second week I intended going up 

to Scotland, but as I heard it was very cold, and one continual down-pour 

of rain, and also as I now had a friend in London - and was a lonely 

soldier no longer I decided to remain where I was - After my leave had 

expired I had to go before a medical Board - Peculiar things - medical 

Boards - perhaps or because I am - I really dont know why I want so much 

to get back to the Front - when I think of the slush and cold over there 

I shiver, and yet I am a jolly side happier over there than here - Well - 

I appeared before that august tribunal, and was asked many questions 

regarding my health and abilities. They asked me how far I could walk 

to which I answered about 20 miles - Old Charlie Ryan looked suspicious 

of that - but the other one smiled. They asked me if I had seen much 

fighting then - and where was I born? I thought "You think I am either 

mad or a German spy." They then asked if I realized what I was going 

back to - I dont generally try to think about what I have got to go back
 

14.
to when I do I find my good resolutions breaking, so I switch my thoughts 

onto something else. What I really want to carry about with me is a 

clear conscience - that I have found is better than a cosy billet and 

a warm fire, but of course that wont go down with a Doctor - or anybody 

else generally. I passed the Board all right, and was ordered to report 

to Perham Downs. I was there for three days, doing nothing but sitting 

down and shivering - awaiting orders to proceed. England is pretty cold 

in the winter. From there I was ordered to report to the 13th training 

Battalion at Codford - and here I am awaiting orders to take things over 

to France.
France 14/12/16.
It seems to me that I skip out a good deal in this Diary. I have not
told you anything about London - the places I visited, or my visit to
Buckingham Palace, where the King shook hands with me, and pinned the 

Cross on my tunic. He seems a nice little fellow, I hope he wont mind 

my being so condescending, but he has one of those inscrutable sort of 

faces that are difficult to read. Perhaps he has pinned so many Crosses 

on - that by this time he does not think of anything at all -
Well - I am back in France again - but I dont like it quite so well since
seeing England, England seems such a beautifully clean little place -
there seems to be no dirt or rubbish about anywhere. But here - the
railway station at Boulogne positively stunk - French people seem to pay 

so little attention to sanitary arrangements.
7/1/17.
The New Year has come - and we have set sail on the troubled waters of
1917 - but rifts seem to be appearing in the heavens, so perhaps the
dove of Peace will find her way to Earth once again - I joined the
Battalion at Buire on my return - Buire is a small village about 6 miles
from Albert of which you have heard. The most peculiar feature of Albert 

is the church. This has been shelled by the Germans, and is still under 

shell fire. No one lives there except one civilian and two or three
girls who keep a restaurant for officers. I stayed at Albert for a night
before proceeding to Buire. The church still stands, but is very much
damaged. On top of the Church Tower stood a statue of the Virgin holding 

her child at arms length above her head - but a shell has destroyed the 

statue, and now it hangs head downwards, (the Virgin holding her child 

at arms length above her head but a shell has destroyed the statue,) 

the Virgin still holding the child in her arms as if to save it from 

falling. We spent Christmas - and the New Year at Buire - and on both 

occasions dined sumptuously, especially when ushering out the Old Year, 

and welcoming the New. From there we marched first to Frank-villiers, 

a distance of about 6 miles and then the following day to Flascelles, a 

distance of 12 miles, and here we are billetted at present. I must tell 

you that I am now a Captain - the notice came out in orders soon after 

I got wounded - but I did not know of the fact till I returned. It was

 rather a pleasant surprise - Our present billett is rather comfortable, 

except that we have no fire. The owner of the place is a wheel wright 

by trade. The Family which consists of the Grandfather - Father - two 

daughters - a son - two cats and a dog live in one room, and as there 

are only two beds for their use they must be warm at night. A dove also 

adds to the peace of this little establishment - and coos sweetly beside 

a large old grandfathers clock which - in its turn - strikes the hour 

twice at about a minute interval - I suppose to remind those who hear 

it strike, and peacefully doze off again that the hour has passed. 

Outside the snow is falling and looks very pretty. France - when seen
 

15.
from a distance is a very pretty place. Little woods are dotted about
on the hills, in winter they have a beautiful brown tint; little
villages nestle amongst the trees, while a church - by far the largest
building in the whole place - seems to spread a protecting hand over
all. But these little villages when seen at close quarters are not
very inviting, especially in Winter when mud seems to predominate.
But perhaps the War - and the extra heavy traffic is responsible. At
present Nature seems disgusted with the everlasting mud, and slush -
so has sent a snow-storm to cover up all defects. Lately the weather
has been what might be termed inclement - first a slight snow storm -
then rain - then hail. The rotation would be charged with an increase
of slushiness.
We returned to Buire today, and from there to the trenches again. They
should be interesting in this weather. I saw an article in some paper
the other day to the effect that War has a bad effect upon the imagination 

of literary people. Of course I do not claim to be literary, but
I sometimes wonder why I cannot write more. Of course conditions are
bad - The literary muse will not hold my hand when it is too cold to
write, and the glamour of War seems to vanish when men have to sit
passively in a trench - half full of mud till they are taken out with
trench feet - No - its only after War - when the hardships have passed,
and only the pleasant memories remain that the fiery fervour - and
spirit of War will return.?
Tonight we are camped at Fircourt one of those places that was once a
town - Now a part of a Mill remains, and the entrance to what was once
a church, beyond these two places not a vestige - The Church appears
to have been of the ordinary type, resembling a huge Egyptian "Pylo"
(I dont know if that is the way to spell it) in front, in the centre
of which is the bell tower and behind this large frontal structure is
the Church. The masonry of this church was rather massive, and in the
porch a canteen now serves to the physical needs of men where once their 

spiritual welfare was the chief aim. Trifling little troubles sometimes 

are very annoying. Today we marched from Buire and on arrival here 

my sock was saturated with blood. Feet sometimes swell in this cold 

weather with the result that boots sometimes chafe. The mud is not 

nearly so bad at present - today the roads were quite hard - everything 

was frozen, and seemed to continue to freeze all day. But we are very 

comfortable. A warm brazier burns in the centre of our hut - I am 

comfortably settled in my sleeping bag - but thought I would say good- 

night before tucking under- 

Again I am settling down for the night in my sleeping bag – Snow outside 

has taken possession, the whole country side is white, except where the 

roads plough their muddy ways through its cleanliness. Flashes outside 

followed by a crash - and a rumble act as our lullaby. We are at 

present comfortably settled in any army hut - all the officers of the 

55th. Some are in bed, others are standing round while Cot and Peat 

are reading verse for verse "A sentimental Bloke" - All men are more 

or less sentimental, and the sentiment hidden in this poem behind the 

slang seems to appeal to most of us.
I have just had my rum issue, rather a stiff glass too, which made me
screw my face up till I could get my breath again - well goodnight -
On the Peninsula we had a touch of cold weather, but France can go one 

better. For more than a week now snow has been lying on the ground, 

and by this time it has lost its soft-white purity. In the distance
 

16.
of course it is a great white sheet, but on close examination resembles
more or less the cauliflower formation that limestone assumes in caves
sometimes. I forget what the formation is called. The last two nights
have been somewhere about 20' below freezing point with the result
that everything is hard. Yesterday morning my batman brought me in a
cup of tea which he deposited about a yard away from the stove. I
drank a little and went on shaving. Some time after I remembered my
tea, and went to drink it. The remainder of it was a solid mass of ice.
The hot water one washes with when spilt on the floor freezes hard
a very short time afterwards. Yesterday Cot and I went to a lecture
on Gas given at Miricourt. Have I ever told you about Cot? The way
I have written it there looks like C.A.T but his name is Cotterill -
He is an Englishman who has travelled all over the world, ran away
from home when he was a boy, and is now a Captain. He went on leave
to England the other day & delighted his people very much I believe.
He is at present sitting next me reading "The Worlds News" - I am very
fond of him. The cold has a wonderful effect on everything, a few
days ago the roads were just one mass of mud and gangs of men had to 

be employed to sweep and scrape the mud off. Then came the cold - and 

everything turned into a solid mass - so much so that yesterday - driving 

along in a motor-bus a dust was actually raised! Fancy a dust of
frozen mud! -
To-day the sun is shining with not a cloud in the sky, but the suns
rays are not strong enough to melt the snow - Some thousands of feet
up a German aeroplane is soaring over our heads at which our anti-
aircraft guns are pounding away. We got two of their 'planes yesterday.
The fighting force of an army is called 'mobile' which it certainly is.
We are never in one place more than a couple of days; Especially is
this so in the Somme district. I dont care for too much shifting, but
it seems to be our usual course of events.here, and we get so used to
it that moving is hardly noticed. At present all the officers are
billetted is one hut, while a brazier burns in the centre. Some are
up - others are having their breakfast in bed as the crowd in the room
is rather great. Ding-bats - or batmen take possession of everything -
making toast round the fire for their special officer seems to be their
favorite pastime.
Outside the guns are rumbling - The other night I believe the 29th went 

over the bags and took a German trench, and a number of prisoners. We 

are making our way up towards the Front Line. A batman near me is 

busily engaged in thawing a water bottle for the officer to have a 

drink, or perhaps wash his teeth. Water is a scarce commodity just at 

present, as everything is frozen - and the water we have to wask with 

is generally taken from some shell-hole. It has to be broken first
with a pick - as the ice is about eight inches thick. Some of these
shell holes have all sorts of refuse in them, with the result that we
have to hold our nose before we can wash sometimes. At Montaubau Camp 

just outside our hut a shell had evidently landed on someones grave,

 leaving the little wooden cross standing upon which was written
"To one unknown" -
I rode into Albert the other day with Cot to get something at the Canteen 

there. The Church Tower with the Virgin suspended from above still 

remains the same - I am interested in that Tower as the French have 

it that the War will end when the image falls. My Company are 

parading to the A.M.C hut at 11 o'clock to have a bath - and have their 

feet attended to. Trench feet have to be carefully guarded against, &
 

17.
all sorts of things are done to prevent them becoming affected. Some
time ago when oil was used - this had to be rubbed on every day, but
it is dirty stuff and the men did not like using it. That method now
is changed. Instead of whale oil - before going into the trenches the
men are paraded and made to wash their feet in hot water - after which
they are given a certain powder which is rubbed in, and sprinkled over
the socks. I was interrupted in my writing by the necessity of eating
some dinner - If only we could go without eating - and did not feel
the cold, trench life would be no trouble at all - but then when we
get out again, we would not enjoy a good dinner - nor a comfortable
arm-chair over a good fire, and I believe of all things I look forward
to a warm fire and two big comfortable chairs on either side! - In
all this business - whenever I feel a bit cold or miserable, my reward
will be that cosy fire (But neither fire ner ehairs will come unless
I bring home a clear) and you and I, and neither will come unless I
come home to you with a clear conscience feeling that I have tried to
do my best.
At present we are in the trenches again, but conditions are not very
hard. The ground still is covered with snow, and everything in the
shape of liquid is frozen. The end of a Menu-generally finishes with
an ice, but here we have ices right through. The bully beef is frozen
Today we went back for some things to the Canteen, such as tinned
plum-pudding, curried fowl, sardines, chocolates etc. So now we are
quite comfortable. Well I must go out while my batman tidies things
up a bit.
Yesterday while sitting in this dug-out I drew the entrance - the
resemblance to the original is not very good but it might give you
some idea of what things are like.
 

18.
We are moving into the Front line tonight. I had to go over to H.Q.
for some information a few minutes ago. Their position is just near
us - only about 200 yards away, but Fritz is jumping at everything he
he sees - the consequence was that on my way back one shell landed
about 20 yds on my right - the next was a good deal closer, I dont
exactly know how close! - Smoke flew all over the place - my face
began to tingle as the blood trickled down from my nose and cheek -
Some small splinters caught me in the face, but it was nothing at all
At present our Artillery is giving Fritz some in return. A tiny splinter
of shell is sticking in my cheek so I think I shall go and get it
out. This morning Fritz has had a morning out - I mentioned that the
29th had made an advance on our right - which has caused the line to
swing round considerably and evidently Fritz imagined we intend to
straighten our part, out. All the morning he has been amusing himself
pumping heavy stuff into our line.- just about 500 yards on my right.
A trench especially just over the crest of a hill is rather a hard
target - the shells landed a bit short, but they made row enough. At
first he put single shots over, while an aeroplane overhead directed
the shooting. Then when he got on the mark three guns opened fire.
They carried on for a bit, putting over three at a time at first bursting
in a straight line thus - then to vary the monotony he sent them
over in a triangle thus - We were just getting used to his 590
when they ceased. The telephone line from my H.Q to B.O.R was cut,
so one of the signallers went out to mend it. Whether Fritz was watching 

for movement in the Line or not I'm not sure, as our signallers
GALlant efforts to mend the line may be the result of his second
strafe. At all events he opened again - this time two at once -
But the shooting was finished by this time and my batman is lighting
a brazier in my dug-out preparatory to getting something to eat. I
am in a new dug-out again, not the one with the cavernous entrance
illustrated on the other Page. All that illustration needs is a
chamois on the outside - then you might imagine I was in the Alps
somewhere - It is great having a Company to look after. I am the O.C
of A Company. Last night we took over from the 53rd - and one of my
servants said it was the best organized, and quickest relief A. Company
had done. Perhaps a little of it was butter, but the Adjutant
and C.O both said they were very pleased with my show. I wonder what
you would think of me if you saw me now. I have not had a shave for
about three days - over a week yesterday my right cheek got sprinkled
with shell dust, and still has blood on it. My hands are engrimed
with dirt, Now- if I walked into the sitting-room and you had a nice
white dress on! - When I touched it would you say "Oh! Bob you dirty
boy! go out and have a wash" or would you scurry off yourself to get
some hot water and a towel & soap! Of course I could not walk in like
that as I would have had plenty of time to get decent in - but when
I arrived at the Hospital in November last I was nearly as bad - I
had all sorts of little flowers in this diary, but one by one they
seem to get lost. A little holly leaf from what remained of the garden
in the Abbey Chartreuse has gone, also a little scarlet pimpernel, and
a piece or forget me-not. But some French heather from St. Omer &
some moss from Pont-Remy still remain.
We are moving from here again tonight, back to Montaubau. Conditions 

this time have not been nearly so bad as the last time I was in the 

Front line. Instead of mud and slush everything is frozen. Most of
the trenches were half full of water, but now we walk safely over the
top of a solid block of ice - in places over a foot thick.
 

19.
Last night rather a funny thing happened. C. Company had a patrol out - 

the German main line is about 500 yds in front of our line. We are at
present in front of La Transloy - "No Man's Land" consists of a number
of old dis-used trenches - belonging to Fritz once, but now only occupied 

by night patrols, sometimes our men, sometimes the enemy. A sunken 

road runs from the left of A Companys lines to La Transloy & along this 

Fritz sends his patrols. This road now is of course only a mass of shell-

holes. Our patrol had taken up a position in a shell-hole a couple of 

hundred yds out, in No Man's Land near the sunken road, and as they 

watched, saw a patrol of eight Germans coming up the road, all dressed in 

white shirts. Our men kept quiet but when the enemy patrol got up to 

them it evidently became a bit nervous and sneaked into a small sap near 

by. Our sergeant asked them to surrender, but the only answer he got 

was a bomb, which luckily failed to take effect. He then landed a bomb

 in amongst the Fritzes who went flying in all directions - Three were 

killed, one taken prisoner, the remainder just disappeared. The funny 

part then began. The sergeant was a pleased as a dog with two tails; He 

danced round his man, hurling at him all the Australian adjectives he

 could lay his tongue to, while a little chap in the rear followed up the 

German with his bayonet never more than a couple of inches from his back! 

The German was a big chap about 6ft 2in. and the whole thing looked very 

funny - Do you ever feel when dealing with certain people that if you 

dont look out you'll become a laughing stock in some way? Capt. Goldstein 

is the O .C of B Company - my old Company - He is not a bad sort of chap, 

good looking not over burdened with courage, suits a drawing room much 

better than the Somme battle-field. I forget what I was going to say - 

about Goldie - I suppose he got on my nerves a bit, he is not a bad chap 

a good deal better than some I know -
I have been meditating for the last 2 minutes as to what is best to do.
whether to stayin bed - or get up, when someone opens the door and I see 

a clear blue sky and the sun shining I think I'll get up, then the cold
wind envelops me, and I immediately get under the clothes again. A
number of us are camped in a hut - All are in bed, some are sitting up
in bed shaving - two next me are laughing over "Fragments from France." 

while batmen seem to flood the place out. My good batman Labalastier 

has not returned from England so ever since his departure I have had to 

make shift with what I could get. My next adventure as regards this 

special class of being took the form of an Irishman called McCarthy- the 

name sound Scotch, but this special individual has Irish - I could see it 

on his face - He was always in the way when he wasn't wanted & never 

within coo-ee when he was! - However he has gone now and I have another.
We move about so much that it is hardly possible to enter up all events.
At present we are camped in a hut near Burnefoy Wood, preparatory to
going into the Front line in a couple of days. We only remain in the
Front line a few days - then come back for a spell, and work our way
back again by stages. The snow & ice have all gone, rain is pattering
down on the roof, the country outside is just a big quagmire. The ground
was frozen for about 3 ft down; this has thawed on top but still remains
hard underneath. Every day the mud gets deeper as the ice thaws. --
Since I made my last entry we have been in the trenches - and out again.
The 56th Battalion who relieved us were rather late. We heard shells
humming their way over our heads towards the supports, then landed with
a dull thud, and one after the other appeared to be 'duds' - I thought
they sounded very like gas shells, so did not expect the relieving Btn.
for some time. At last they arrived safe and sound, but owing to the
gas-shells they had become divided among themselves, and only half the
 

20.
relieving party arrived. About 12 o'clock that night we arrived back in
supports - rather tired - but our beds were all made by those we had
left behind, so we were soon tucked in and snoring peacefully. Things
are a little complicated in the Battalion at present. A Major who has
been in England for the last 3 months & who while there swung the lead
a little, has just returned to the Battalion. During his absence one of
our men who practically has made the Battⁿ what it is, was made a temporary
Major. The consequence is that now we have two Majors, in H.Q.
which of course cannot be allowed and also - now I come to the part which
concerns me - I am junior Capt. in the Battn. - there are three Captains
senior to me - yet I have got a Company, while one of them is 2nd in
Command of one Company, another was sent away the other day to a school
the third - sick - So you see, if one Major has to take a Company
it will in all probability be mine. But it is no use looking too far
ahead. Life is something like a big play isn't it? At present the Show
of the day is a drama - only if it were acted on the stage there would
be a good deal of curtain raising - & lowering --
We are back in supports again - the weather is muggy & warm, compared to
that of some days ago - What was then ice is now water. A brazier burns
in my dug-out, and keeps the place dry. Outside the sides of the trench
are breaking away like miniature avalanches and keep tumbling in, forming
liquid mud on the bottom about a foot deep. An 18-pounder Battery
is barking away outside - spiteful little things 18-pounders - they are
so continuous and persistent. Two new officers have just arrived to my
Company. I'm afraid I am rather conservative - new officers - especially
Reinforcement officers - do get on my nerves and somehow they generally
seem to be sent to me to break in. I like men who have risen from
the ranks - as they generally seem to have character and strength - but
these Reinforcement chaps mostly seem fellows who would not come away
without a Commission - sort of "Pretty boys" - "mother's darlings" -
who are not always dependable. Of course there are exceptions I hope
those friends of Rosie's were not reinforcement officers - Steel hats
would make rather good seats if they were not so hard. Four of us are
sitting in a dug-out. I have just finished shaving. Someone else is
shaving now and between the intervals singing hymns - and talking to one
of the others about Goulburn, The fourth is reclining upon the floor
dreaming I believe of his leave to England which has been hanging fire
for the last 6 weeks. Last night about 12.30 I was rudely awakened by
the signaller - who informed me that I was needed at the telephone - so
I scrambled over to the 'phone to learn that I was needed at B.H.Q. at
once. B.H.Q stands for "Battalion Head Quarters." Then I learned that
Fritz was evidently retiring, as on our left four villages had been taken
without opposition - and our orders were to be ready to advance at a moments
notice. So I had to haul out all the N.C.O's and officers, so that
things should be ready.
Getting out of bed in the Front line is not so very hard. We are something
like dogs you know, just whine - then get up and shake ourselves as we
are already dressed. But nothing came from the alarm and we were able
to snooze off again till dawn. Everything is very quiet today. Fritz
seems to have very few guns in action - sometimes our howitzer batteries
open - but there is no reply.
Another entry generally means another position - We are in the Front line
 

21.
again. Fritz has again woken up - Shells whine their way overhead
some land with a crash on les Boeufs sending up a cloud of smoke &
earth into the air which falls to earth again within a radius of 100
yds. and sends up a spray of water from the numerous shell-holes which
are all full of water. Others burst overhead, a great rending"crash"
they make, followed by a great cloud of black smoke from the centre
of which suddenly shoots forward a ring of smoke which twists viciously
towards the ground. Fritz aims at destroying the morale of troops -
most of his shells are high explosives and make a tremendous noise as
his bombs do - but their killing power does not seem as great as ours.
Now that the snow has all melted, the Somme Battlefield reminds me
somewhat of Egypt. If you can imagine a large undulating expanse
swept clean of all signs of habitation just as if some great giant had
taken his rake and cleaned up trees -houses-everything in his way --
only leaving behind gnarled tree trunks, stripped of all their limbs -
and now broken and dead.
Heaps of bricks which were once houses, and all life gone! - the whole
surface pitted and turned over where the huge prongs of his rake struck
the ground as he continually let it fall - Then you have a faint idea
of what the surroundings of my little dug-out are like. Dead men still
lie about just as they fell, their packs still on their backs. In
one case a German and a Scotchman lie side by side - the bayonet of
the Scotchman in his opponents throat - while that of the German is
through the Scotchmans stomach.
A skylark this morning perched on a clod of earth beside a huge shell-
hole and sang as if spring was in the air - He seemed to strike a
strange note in this land of Desolation. Wilkie - otherwise Mr. Wilkins
is sitting at the bottom of the dug-out, having his dinner which consists
of some bully-beef and onions, a piece of toast and a cup of tea. The
time is 2.30 P.M. but as he was on night duty nearly all night we let
him slumber on till a shell burst inside the dug-out which set everything 

rumbling and incidentally woke him up. Fritz is rather inconsiderate
with his shells, sometimes he sends them round the mouth of the
dug-out, sending up clods of earth and muck, which in turn lands all
over the place - sometimes in the fire of the brazier, upsetting the
water and spoiling our dinner! -
9th March 1917.
Once more the scene changes. This time I am in a German dug-out.
Naturally you have not experienced the pleasure of living in one of
them. Three shafts lead down into the ground – these are connected
up below by a gallery which contains bunks very similar to the steerage
compartments in a big passenger boat.
We are auite comfortable and dry - and out of range of all shell-fire.
Of course the surroundings are not those that one conjures up in one's
mind among which he wishes to spend the peaceful years of the latter
end of his life - In that existence we wont live in a German dug-out
will we? Have you forgotten the little study which we were going to
have? Well - it will all come some day - My pen ran dry, so I had to
borrow another.
A bombardment is going on outside - sounding like distant thunder from
down here. We are in supports at present, but move forward tomorrow
to the Front line. I was up yesterday to have a look round - the
front trench is only a broad ditch - battered and blown about in places
to make it practically impassible.