Letters from Captain Walter Morris Felix Gamble to his family, 1917-1918 - Part 2










Telegrams:
"GRAND."
Telephone No 15.
GRAND HOTEL, LTD.
Calcutta. 14th July 1918
my Dear old Dad & Mum
I suppose
you will be pleased
to hear, that I was
up among the first two
or three, when the final
reports of the school
were announced.
It was undoubtedly
the solidest six weeks
grind I'd done as
far back as I can
remember, but there
was a jolly good
Telegrams:
"GRAND."
Telephone No 15.
Grand HOTEL, LTD.
Calcutta 191
time mixed up with
it, and The weather
was rather mild for
India, so, now it's
all over, I'm feeling
rather pleased with
myself and the world
in general.
I was again recommended
for Staff, and
perhaps this time
something may become
of it, but even if
it doesn't, its
always handy to
Telegrams:
"GRAND."
Telephone No 15.
GRAND HOTEL, LTD.
Calcutta, ___________191
have a good report
from an Army School.
The monsoons have
broken, and India
is beginning to lose
her dry barren
look, and, well
coming up in the train
it was just bonzer
to gaze at the rich
tropical green fields
& x jungle (at least
I suppose it's green)
for I'm still a colour
blind as a bat
Telegrams:
"GRAND."
Telephone No 15.
GRAND HOTEL, LTD.
Calcutta,___________191
you, no doubt, will
be glad to Know, that
it will probably be
a few months before
I can get on service
again, but I Tell you
straight I'm damned
annoyed. Still there
is no benefit in
worrying, especially
as I'm as hard as
nails, and fit, at a
bare 11 - 6, Stripped.
Good luck love to
the boys. Ever your loving son
Wally.
France
March 31st 1917
My Dear Old Mum
You will think
because I am writing in pencil
that I am grown lazy, - I
haven't - fact is, the villages in
these wild parts have stopped
selling ink. and anything else
for that matter.
I am feeling like starting an
offensive on my own, the boche
has frightened our mail boat,
hence our mail is about a
fortnight late.
We are having beautiful
mornings, showery afternoons,
and beautiful nights, things
are improving, a whole lot
in fact they are too good to
last long, and we will
wake up some morning to
find the war is finished.
Good things never last long,
and at present the war is
good.
I have got my second
star dating from 14th February.
and am now a full blown
"Lootnong"
Gee, there are about two hundred
letters to sensor, and mail closes
in a few hours, so I'll have to
get at it.
Tell Mona I will write to her
tomorrow, and it may get
through as a stray but these
letters must be done.
Ever your loving son
Wally.
France
Jan, 31st 1917
My Dear old Mum.
It's good to be
sitting by a blazing fire, building
castles in the flames, while all
around is snow and ice. It
is supposed to be very cold,
but I don't feel feel it any
more than I did in Australia.
I heard from Cocky the
other day. he says he is
feeling quite fit again, but
they won't let him come back
for a while yet.
You were talking about
up to date correspondence, up
to the present, I have not
received the Cablegram
containing birthday greetings.
I am afraid the old way
is better, for you will remember
that the 1915 birthday Cablegram
arrived after the letters.
How are all the strikes
progressing. Australia must
be some place these days. I
wouldn't feel a bit sorry, if
I got orders to turn my
guns on them tomorrow. I class
them o lower than the Huns.
and that is pretty low, but
Fritz at least will do his
all for his country. If you
heard what I called those
"____!", you would "xxx throw a
fit at every word".
I am feeling fit for anything
except writing letters, but half
a loaf is better than no bread,
so Good- night mum. I'll write
a long letter next mail.
Tons of love
Wally
France
February 1st - 17
My Dear old Dad
We have come back
to our own again, now that the
ground is frozen and will stand
the shock of discharge of the gun; for
the last nine days I have been
dealing out iron rations to Fritz
to some order. And am sitting back
here, with a feeling of satisfaction.
our men are standing the cold
wonderfully, and they say it is
the coldest they have had it in
these parts for some years, but
the mud and slush, gets them
down and worries them, his
lordship included. The stolid
little Tommy wades through it,
with a "don't care a damn in his
eye", but the an Australian mooches
around like a dying duck in
a thunderstorm. But now, that
the mud has frozen, and the
sky is blue and clear, the men
in the line stamp their feet, to the
tune of some old song, In fact
they are once more the "Singing
Soldiers" I can't explain it
better.
You asked me a while ago.
if I would like some literature.
I would very much, I can't
won't tell you what to send, because
I xxx hardly know, except the
Bulletin, Just send me over
any books you think I ought
to read, and which you think I
will like, I always carry a collection
of poems about with me, and
as I have plenty of time to myself
I know them nearly all off by
heart.

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