Letters from Captain Walter Morris Felix Gamble to his family, 1917-1918 - Part 4

belongs to us.    
I had a great time a

few mornings ago, one of the

Battalion officers. an old cobber

of mine, had to put out an

advance post, and I wanting

to do my bit, wanted to locate

any enemy posts near it, so

under cover of a fog, we set

out - along with one of my men

who would eat raw meat, he

carried a bag of bombs in

case of we had a bit of fun.

while Jack & I carried our

squirts - Well, we wandered

about for two hours or more

without seeing anyone, so

we came to the conclusion
that Fritz had withdrawn, we

then started to explore his

trench. after  travelling along

it for about two hundred yards,

we heard voices, -the fog was

lifting- and on reaching the

top of a rise, we found ourselves

slap bang against a party of

20 twenty ge Germans; two

of them were about twenty yards

away from us, while the rest

were about fifty.

I thought to myself, while

I drew a bead on the nearest

"Well ! Gingers, you've got what

you are looking for". I was

in great form, my man got

out some bombs with a grin

all over his face. Jack was

covering the second man.

My bird was looking straight

at me, in a very mistified way.

it suddenly dawned on him that

we meant' business, and he started

to back towards his mob. - We

didn't want to start the fun

being so few, but we felt pretty

confident, that if he started he

would get it in the neck.

Anyway, we were watching

them from the shell hole, until

our birds got back and told

the rest we were there. they

probably exaggerated, for they

all melted away, then we returned

home, having been out four hours

and finding out what we wanted

to know. That night I poo put fifty

rounds into that post, so it is

not too cheerless. Is it? and

we have great fun sniping, the

other day, eleven men and 

myself were digging an

emplacement. and cleaning
up the trench a bit, there were

no targets to fire at for about an

hour, and I was getting a bit

fed up of looking for them - while

the men dug. I was just about

to give it up in disgust, when I

caught sight of twelve of the

blighters walking along a road.

about fifteen hundred yards

away, it was a clear day & we

could pick them up easily, in

about a minute, every man

was onto them waiting for the

word to fire, - then we let her

go. three dropped a and

the remainders  ran for a

trench, a couple of minutes later

a chap came out and

brought one f them

in, we let him go.

Well dad, this is quite

a long letter for me these days

so I'll ring off

Ever your loving son

Wally.

France

March 17^th. 1917.

Dear old Dad,

Gee! Dad I am that

happy I can hardly write.

After all our hardships

and privations. we have at

last attained our object. and

we are advancing even beyond

it. I can't tell you much, but

xxx long before this reaches

you, you will have heard

all about it.

We have had rather a

solid time of it of late, but

today, everyone is full of life,

anxious to be into it.

I am as fit as a fiddle

myself. I get the tobacco

regularly, but a while ago,

I lost my pipe in a fathom of

mud, and am at present

smoking one "especially made

for soldiers". although France

is the home of pipes, you can't

get a good one for love or

money.

I hope your spell at

Black Rock, did you good.

How are the boys shaping at

Wesley? wesle they ought to

make good, for it seems

that poor old Wesley is very

much in need of one or tu

two athletes.

Up to last mail, you had

not received my photos. I

hope they didn't go down

south, as I don't suppose I'll

be in Blighty for a while yet,

and these wild parts do 

not boast a photographer.

I have had a couple of 

letters from Leo and he

seems very anxious to turn

his gun onto a mob of Huns.

Ivor is in the same Coy, but

is still a Sgt.

"Doc" Woolland is still going

strong, he is at present out

in Billets somewhere.

Well Dad mail closes

tomorrow, so ∧as I just have

time to write a couple more

I'll have to cut you off with

two pages.

Ever your loving son

Wally

France

March 17^th 1917.
My Dear old Mum,

I only got a

"one pager" from you last mail

mum, so as I find it awfully

hard to sit down, let alone

write, I will am afraid one

page will wear me out.

If things keep going as they

are. I will be home by

Xmas. - Too good to believe.

Isn't it? - I haven't had

a parcel for a long time.

Mum, but I think you said

you were sending me one from

Black rock. so I live in hopes.

How is Jack getting on at

Trinity?

I am getting Mona's "Life's"

more regularly now, They

are goodo. I read them backward

Has "Doc" Lind been called

up yet?

I absolutely must trot along

and see what's doing, mum.

Ever your loving son

Wally.

ON ACTIVE SERVICE.
19.1.1917

France
My Dear old Mona.

You may

get two pages, and 

you might get six, the

letter depends upon

whether I get a brain

wave or not, for at

present I am very dry

- metaphorically speaking

I saw a Table Talk

to day, and in it

were some snaps, of

ana an affair in Kew,

in aid of French Kids,

or something of the kind.

I thought I recognised

Beryl Kelly & one of the

Robins girls, was I

right?

Beryl was sitting

next to some "deep

thinker",

Have you returned 

to Kew yet? If so, how

are all the girls I used

to know.

Talking about

girls, I got my photo

taken, while I was

in Blighty, and went

round to have a look

at the proofs one

afternoon, after having

spent the earlier

part of the day with

a cobber. I was just

a wee bit merry and

as I ∧had half an hour

to spare before meeting

my x Nellie, I sat

down and addressed
a photo to just about

every girl I could

think of.  "Mum's the 

word."

By the time I have

told you that I am

still smiling & smoking

cigarettes, and feeling

as fit as a fiddler.

I will just about

be to the end of this

page, I am sorry

but I promise to

write a longer one

next time, anyhow this

is a three pager (small

ones.) Good night mona,

Your loving brother

Wally.

19.1.1917

France

My Dear old Mum,

It's a bit

like you Mum, in fact

I rather like it. If I

hadn't received a

letter from you saying

you were sending

me this Pocket book

containing your photo,

I would have written

to Mona thanking her

for her photo. "Kid Stakes!"

I have just returned

from a ten days

school of Mortars, I

had a great time, as

you can imagine, for

I was in a good mess

us, which boasted a

piano, and a member -