Letters from Captain Walter Morris Felix Gamble to his family, 1917-1918 - Part 3

I have a character of a batman.
a Bendigo miner, as good as
the gold he washes, and as hard.
quite a contrast is from my little
Mossie, They are two distinct 
types of white men. The east &
the West as it were.
I suppose by the time this 
reaches you, Horace & Herbert
will be at Wesley, they ought 

to be able to make a name for
the Gamble family. between them.
How did Fred get on at J.P.?
and how is he shaping for the
crew? You ought to get George
Sparrow onto the three of them, 
they are good material.
Well, Dad I have a lot of
letters to write. I am as fit
as usual. and eating like a 
horse.
Semfrer Wally 

France
Feb. 17^th 1917
My Dear old Dad.
I am feeling too
tired to write much, Dad, but 
the mail closes in the morning
so I must catch it. I will
have breakfast & dinner in 
bed tomorrow, and after that

I will be myself again. as 
a matter of fact. I was that
fit, when we went into the
line, that I did the work of
one of our officers, who was
feeling off colour, as well as
my own, but my efforts have
been rewarded, for in tonights
orders, there is a quite a large
paragraph, complimenting
our battery on its fine work
in connection with a stunt.
which was an absolute success.
it said. that we showed
^to advantage what  our moutons could
do. -- a little bit of kid stakes
goes a long way with a
tired soldier -
Well, Dad, supper is 

on, so I think I will have 
a feed, write a few lines
to Mum, and turn in.
Oh! I nearly forgot, I 
met Dr Woolland, at last, 
he is has not changed one
bit, and tomorrow he is
to meet the French government
to be decorated with the 
"Croix de Guerre" he was
also recoommended for
the D.S.O. but up to the
present, he has heard no
more of it.
We spent every spare

evening evening together

I absolutely love the man.
more & more every time I
speak to him. I will be
seeing him again in about
ten days time, for I am 
out resting for that long.
Your loving son
Wally. 

P.S. Did you get the 
Photo etc.?
Wally
France

Feb. 17^th 1917
Dear Old Mum.
I can't write 
much, but half a loaf is 
better than no bread. - I
am out of the line for a
while for a spell. which 
means eating & sleeping &
smoking.
I received the family 
group a few days ago and 
like the one where you are
all standing a whole lot,
but in the sitting group, Dad
looks as if he used to when
he ordered me into the 
bathroom. You to have that 
"poor Wally" look. the boys
look as if they had just 
got it in the neck for giggling,
especially Horace who is nearer
Dad's right hand, while Mona
Well, she doesn't look bad.
Well Mum, I have that 
pleasant sleepy tired feeling 
so I'll turn in! Your ever loving 
son, Wally. 

France 
Feb. 28^th 1917
My Dear Old Mum.
You have the

thick end of the stick, 
mum, in the letter writing
stunt, you have to write
but one or two letters
each mail, while me I 

poor as I am at the 
game, have to write at

least a dozen, - Lucky 
to have a dozen correspondents
? Well, pt perhaps I am.
I am expecting the parcel
to blow along any day
now, it's a long time 
coming.
Everyone is sitting down,
chewing his pen their pens, 
and scratching their

heads, in a vain indeavour
to write to their dear ones, 
Cocky's head is just
about between his heels.
I came across quite 
a lot of cobbers, old school
cobbers, yesterday, I don't

know if you know any of
them. Heller, M^cMillan,
Mathews, and Abbernethy.
Dick Hogg, no Mona will 
know him, was in the
same Battery, but he
went where we all must 
go last December.
Piles of letters are
coming in to be censored,
it's a habit they've got when
ever we want to write.
I am afraid I will
have to give this best, 
Hock & Cocky have given up,
and have started singing.
I'm feeling good oh!
for any thing except letter
writing to night: 
Good night mum
Your loving son
Wally. 

France 
March. 3^rd 1917
My Dear old Mum.
I am so glad
you like the brooch Mum, 
I'm such a "dud" - choosing
presents.
During our advance here.
I have collected six different
types of German bayonets. as
you all seemed anxious
for relics. I will send them
across at the first opportunity.
I am sitting before a 
beautiful fire writing this.
Absolutely free from care.
Fritz having quietened down
considerably in these once

wild parts, this was some
place three months ago, but
today. everything is quiet. 
except for profuse strains 
of unpremeditated [[?]] coming
from the mens hut, in the

form, of "When I lost you" and
many others. They are a great 
lot mum, I take off my hat
to the lot of them, from 

"The Kraut "oo swung a cane
upon the Block" to "the coot
'oo swung a pick on Broken 'Ill"
Every one is a "Ginger Mick" when
you get to know him. I'll
give an evening when I come
back, and ask all the "Ginger
Mick's" who livve near by. I
used to get a hiding for going
with these fellows when I was 
a kid, and now I'm living 
with them. - strange. Isn't it?
I am absolutely fit Mum.
good for half a dozen Germans 
any day.
How are all the boys? I won't
have time to write to them this
mail, but I promise them a letter
each next time.
Mail closes tomorrow, and
I have several more letters to 
write, so Good. Night Mum.
Ever your loving son
Wally. 

P.S. I forgot to tell you the 
latest joke - I heard this
myself.
Scene.

One of the advanced outposts. -
party carrying hot tea to latter -
night very dark, ground very
muddy.
Sentry - "Halt! what's the password?"
Party. - woolloomoolloo
- "woollomooloo" ( last
nights pass word).
Sentry.- "Thats not the pass
word" - ( suspiciously)
Party - "Oh! Well you can go 

and get "____" ! You
wont get any "_____" 'ot
tea."
not bad what?
Wally. 

France 
March 3^rd 1917
My Dear old Dad.
It delighted me a
whole lot, to hear that you
were pleased with the cigarette
holder. but I was still more
delighted, to know that you were
able to get down to Black Rock
this year and I sincerely hope 
you made most of it.
In your last letter. you spoke
about the cheerlessness of the 
trenches. These days, they are
everything but cheerless, It is
as if my dreams of "stoush" have
come true. everyone is itching to
have a real ding dong go. We
are advancing, and it is now
a case of man for man, and
man for man. our fellows sho
beat him hollow.
I have just come down 
from the line after a rare old
time of blowing out his advance
rear guard posts, sniping, and
reconnoitering no man's land,
which for the most part