Letters relating to William George Blaskett, 1916-1919 - Part 9

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Still, I didnt care. I wasn't very

dissipated. Only spent between £2 & 3;

for the simple reason, nobody would

let me buy anything. I went to the

Strand Theatre with Will and Alf &

saw the "Belle of New York". It was

very nice. Took Eddie to see Aunt

Jane one afternoon but she was out,

so took him to the Pictures. Went once

to a picture show at Shrewsbury with

the girls. I think I told you they

had a violin at Aunt Rose's, so I was

happy, especially as Gladys plays very

well indeed on the piano. It seemed a

bit strange the first time I tried to play,

but I soon got going. The hand

doesnt seem very much affected by the

wound. I think it will get quite

alright in time.

It was a sad trip from London

to Southampton. Nobody in our carriage

said a word all the way, but we soon

cheered up. I am now looking forward

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eagerly to my next leave. xxx It was

rather a coincidence that I left the Battalion

on Jan 1^st, Charlie's birthday, & left London

on the 13^th Dad's birthday. I will write to

Dad & Modge soon. I intended to write you

some long letters from England, but somehow,

- I think I was too excited at being

there. Dont forget that money to Will Clark

(£3). Any time you have a pound to spare

you might send it to Aunt Rose to keep for

me, as I shall probably get another leave

in a few months time, or I might get

another knock, & get sent there. Dont send

more than 3 or 4 pounds all told, & dont

send any if you cant spare it. Of course,

I could always borrow money off some

of them but I would rather have some

of my own.

I received a cake from you yesterday

it was "très bon". Thanks very much,

dear mother o' mine. Ollie Ward sent me

a nice pudding I am writing to her today 

as well as to several other folk.

4

I am sorry to hear Charlie has been

crook and hope he is better now.

I had my photo taken while on leave,

& Aunt Rose is sending them on to you.

I hope you will like them. Everybody

said I was looking very well, & were

surprised at me being so cheerful; they

all wanted to know about the war, &

I told them a few yarns all more or

less true. Dad has got a reputation for

telling yarns but mine is nearly as good.

I put in 10 days good work, ^& nearly scared most of them to death. Aunt

Rose & Emmie (who is one of the best) said

I hadnt altered a bit, so apparently the

war hasnt done me much harm yet.

Now, dear mother, I must ring off, with

fondest love to all at home from your

own 'Mark [[?Tapley ion]]" son

Will

Kick Charlie for me please.

P.T.O.

Did I every tell you about the old lady

who came from some little country village

in England to see her son in No 4 G.Hosp.

I got yarning to her, & talking about the

war, she said "of course, its not so bad

for you Australians as it is for our boys.

as you are always shooting one another

with revolvers and things when you are

home. She seemed to think I was

a desperate character, especially as

when she asked me if a carried a

revolver, I had to be truthful & say "yes".

3232 Sgt Blaskett

A Coy 48 Bn.

France 30/1/17

 

Dear Mother o' mine/

I received your

letter of 12' December with photos

yesterday. To say I was pleased with

the snaps is putting it mildly. To see

your dear faces, even photos of them, once

again was a source of great pleasure

as you can guess. My luck seems

to be right in again. To start with

whilst I was on leave the Battalion

did a spell in the trenches, which I

was lucky enough to miss. Uncle

Frank gave me a small horsehouse & shelty

a black cat for luck. Well two nights

ago I was told to report to the Colonel at 7.30.

I went up in fear & trembling half

expecting a "strafing". Instead, he told me

that he was recommending me for a

commission. He was very decent indeed

and told me I had done excellent work

and if I just carried on as I had

done in the past he would be perfectly

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satisfied. He said they were sending

him officers from Reinforcements but

he was refusing them and promoting

the nco's of the Battalion as far as possible.

He said I musnt count on getting it

too much as General Birdwood might

decline to grant it and send him a

reinforcement Officer instead. However

he said I could rest content that he

would do his best. I shall know the

result in about a fortnight I expect,

and will cable you as soon as possible

if I am made a lieutenant. Even if I

dont get it, I feel proud of what the

C.O. said to me, and am sure it wont

be his fault. Dont If you dont get a

cable from me by the time you receive

this letter, I think it will be all up.

One thing, if I get a star I shall

have a much easier time, as far as regards

food & lodging &c.

Well, enough of that. Will write you

a long letter if things are O.K.

 3

Thats a great photo of Modge. Just like him

to be pouring water into a colander.

He looks just as dirty and disreputable

as ever. As for Dad, he certainly does

get more "Aldermanic" then as time goes

on. I am glad he is so well, and

am pleased to know that business is

good with him. Of course I dont need

to say what I thought of your dear

face, mother. I hope it wont be too

long now before we meet in reality.

The weather is rather bad now. Lots

of snow and frost. Fortunately I'm keeping

pretty well, in spite of it.

Now, dear mother, I must close as the

mail goes soon.

Lots of love & kisses from your

ever loving son

Will  

France

4^th February

1917

 

Dear Modge/

I really must apologise, old man,

for not writing to you more often, but sometimes

it needs a very special effort to get

mother's letter written every week. As long

as I can manage that I'm satisfied, because

of course, you all see that one. Still,

I will write you as often as possible.

Perhaps you would be interested

to know under what circumstances this

letter is being written.

Another sergeant and myself are

sitting in a dugout some few miles

behind the lines, (not quite out of Fritz

reach, however), both of us busily engaged

writing home. There are four of us

all told, but two are out with the

fatigue party making roads. We take

turn about to be out. One hour in

and one out, and a mighty cold

job it is being out, I can assure

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you. I shall soon be a qualified ganger

or road foreman if the war lasts

much longer. We have a good fire going,

the wood and coal for which we borrowed

or as Shakespeare says "conveyed" from

a heavy English Battery just up the road.

We didnt stop to ask their permission

but just took what we wanted.

It is nice and warm here, much better

than outside, where it is all snow, frozen

pretty hard, which makes road construction

very heavy work for the men.

The stove consists of a petrol tin with

the top knocked off and holes in the

sides and bottom for draught. We make

tea in a ^large tin and drink it out of milk

tins which make good mugs.

The decorations consist of a few empty

cigarette tins, and several spare tins of that

xxxxxxx mainstay of the army, bully beef.

Looking out through the door, a

glorious prospect meets the eye. (The

dug out is in a small valley and faces

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away from the line). On the right a

fine metalled road built by the

contemptible little army leads to the top

of the hill, on xxxxxxx which stands

what was once a fine brick building

but is now a mere framework of

shattered timber and masonry. Along

the road night and day comes a

wonderful assortment of traffic; motor

lorries laden with stores and ammunition,

or perhaps road metal or duck boarding,-

any of the thousand and one things

essential to winning this fight; limbers

and wagons drawn by horses or mules,

mainly the latter, whose ears, constantly

semaphoring, seen to possess the secret

of perpetual motion. Mingled with these

are the poor old infantry trudging along,

whilst now and again a swift motor

ambulance loaded with shattered men,

tell that the toll is still being paid.

On the crest of the hill, just off

the road is one of those engines of