Letters from Captain Walter Morris Felix Gamble to his family, 1915-1916 - Part 4

The Giddy Peninsula
My dugout
12^th Nov '15
My dear old Mum
I hope you have
packed a nice billy for
my Christmas dinner
because if you haven't I'll
only get "Bully beef and
biscuit," I will send you
on one of the latter to sample,
They are about four inches
square, and half an inch
thick, and and as hard as
adamant, but you enjoy
them when you're hungry.
although I draw the line
at them on Christmas day.
Ivor, myself, and

another chap, put in 10/-
each for a beautiful ham
yesterday, and gorged
ourselves out till we
couldn't move, consequently,
we both have pains today.
We live on the old saying
system, "Eat what beans you
have today, others must be
on their way," so, one day we
live like lords, the next we
live like soldiers. (B. B. and B.)
and so, we get a bit of
variety.
Things are very quiet,
and stomach troubles are
breaking out, through want
of exercise, big strong men
are going as well as weeds,
although I am still sticking it.
I think I can last a couple
more months, unless I am lucky
enough to get a wound. Well
mum, a merry Christmas and
happy new Year from your loving son, Wally

The Giddy Peninsula
5th November '15
My Dear old Mum
I won't be
home for christmas, I
thought I might as well
write and let you know,
but although I will be
absent in the flesh, I will
be present in the Spirit.
I haven't had a letter
for a long time now, but
I am expecting one everyday
now, you can't imagine
how I look forward to a
home mail, and also Mona's
-She is not home now,-
I don't suppose l Fred
has much trouble in
managing the boys, poor
little beggars.

Its high time you got
some of my letters, I have
written quite a lot for
me.
Ivor and I have just sent
a man down to the beach
to purchase some eatables,
vis- cake, chocolate, condensed
milk etc, and are anxiously
waiting his return, I don't
know whether I told you
before, but we are both
Sergeants, and by putting
our heads together, (not
by going to the blacksmith
to get them welded) we
manage to scrape up
a few extras in the eating
line.
I have thought out a
great scheme, Mum, in

which you are chief
actress. I will tell you
your part.
One day when you have
packed all the boys away
to school, take a run
into Fay's and purchase
a little hamper of eatables,
wrap them up (not in
tissue paper) and put
my address on the parcel
and post it. my part
will be to receive it,
eat it, and write and
thank you. What do
you think of the Idea?
Well Mum, there is
no exciting news, except
that I have lost my
belly ache. Your loving son
Wally

P.S. Sorry I started
back to front.
The Giddy Penin
"my dugout"
20th Oct '15
My dear old Mum.
I feel absolutely
ashamed of myself, for not
having written before, I
suppose you have been
imagining all kinds of
horrible things, while I
have been having a free
and easy time, with
an occasional bit of
excitement, the Turks gave
us a pretty rough time
this morning, with their
75 high explosives and their
shrapnel, but that they
didn't do any harm,
except disfigure the landscape
a bit.
I couldn't help laughing
the other day, when I saw
a sketch in the "Bulletin"
where some chaps were
bathing amid a hail of
shrapnel, were frightened
whether there were any
sharks about or not, well
when we first had a swim
although "Beachy Bill" (who
has some two thousand
casualties to his credit)
was sending in the shrapnel
we innosently inquired of
an old hand whether there
were any sharks about.
I will believe any yarn
no matter how far stretched
it may seem, of luck, and
wonderful escapes, after

3
P.S. Tell poor old Mona that
from now onwards, she will
get four pages per week.
Wally
what I've seen, Ivor and I
were lying in a dugout when
a 75 high explosive burst
two yards to the right of
us, it bowled us both over
half covering us with dirt,
I was afraid to speak for
a while. I so was he, then
he said "Are you hurt?, and
I said No! are you? I and
when he said No!, we
laughed, as if it were a
great joke. the blooming
shell ploughed a hole
in the ground about three
feet deep.
I am glad to hear that
Leo is going to do his bit,
4
I felt like breaking Linds
Kneck when I heard the
way he is treating Mona,
the miserable "five swear
words" I never did like
him, more especially when
I found out that he had
cold feet.
The budding Dickens
gave me half an hours
enjoyment, with his
"tearkes"etc, tell all the
boys, that I will write
them tomorrow, without
fail and hence forth,
you will receive mail
regularly. Well I must
say Good-night, the old
slush lamp is flickering.
Your loving Son Wally.

P.S. Please send a photo
to Sid Smith, and McAusland
x McCausland, I
received letters from
them both saying they
had not received them.
Wally
Gallipoli
Shrapnel Gly
My dugout
18th October
1915
My dear old Dad
It is a month today since
I wrote last, I feel a damn rotter,
but this soldiers life has made
me so lazy, that I have a batman
to clean out my "dug out." I am
a big fat lazy brute of a sergeant
now, something different from the
innocent, well trained, lad who
enlisted six months ago.
The army is x like to a basket
of snakes, each reptile treads its
neighbour down, in a mad indeavour
to tower his head above the rest
so it is with the men in the army.
They plan and scheme, to better
themselves, at the cost of their mates.
So we "the terrible three" again play
them at their own game and

and so far have come out on
top.
For instance, a canteen was opened
on our Island opposite Anzac, and
a very moderate price list was sent
across to us. We were all to
hand in a list of the articles we
required, plus money, in all, it amounted
to £30. well, an officer and a Q.M.S. of ill
fame went across to secure our goods.
On their return, it was discovered that
they had only [[11£?]] worth of goods, while the
Q.M.S. had in his "dugout", several cases
of goods which w he was selling
at about 300% profit. - You see
their scheme? They were broke to the
world, and so they invested £20 of
our money, to buy themselves these
goods, and after they had sold
our goods to us at immense profit
to themselves. They were going to pay us
back our £30.
Well then, our turn came, at 2 am
next morning, six stalward lads,
(the other three chosen by us) stole
from a lonely "dugout" and wandered
off in opposite directions, until they
finally arrived at QMS Lock's "dugout".
three of us entered and after searching
round for some time, struck an
electric torch, with it, we discovered
where the booty lay and also
succeeded in waking the occupants
well, to save any trouble, we jumped
on them. my fingers closed round
a fat soft throat, and cut a y yell
short: (xxxxxxx xxx) (Struth! but I
gripped him hard!) After a little
while I relaye relaxed (excuse, smudge
I'm wandering) and he said with much
pain that he would go easily.
The other two were just as easily
quietened, we then lifted everything
worth while, and distributed it
round every dugout, while the
camp slept, and in the morning,
every chap woke to find that
Father Christmas had made him
a present of a packet of candles,
cigarettes, chocolate, and matches.
We said a similar thing with
regard to mail, which is not
returned and saved some chaps
the expense of buying it.
Although I am hitting the pace
a bit in the Gentleman [[?]]
line, I have kept my two promises,
and I can assure you that you
can rest in peace as far as they
are concerned, for I found
no difficulty at all in resisting
them.
Thanks so much for the papers
and "Lion". You have no Idea how
welcome a mail is but it is
a beggar sending one home, you
have to write to seven people

PS.
Hence forth, you will get
mail every week without
fail.
Wally
and you have to vary every one.
I have not come across Dr
Woollard yet, but in search
of him, I have met scores of
old Public School Boys. there is
not a trench in the whole Peninsular
th that does not protect at least one
of them.
You hardly ever see a Turk here,
they are two too shrude to poke
their heads above the parapet, and
all that happens day in, day out,
is the incessant crack of the rifle,
(at sand bags, through perioscopic rifles)
the roar of the artillery, and the
deep sullen boom of our naval
guns, but I think there will be
something doing very shortly, this is
getting monotoness.
Your loving son
Wally