Papers of Edgar Sydney Worrall - Wallet 2 - Part 9

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before returning to France, of course
depends on the rapidity our wounds
heal. I can now wash fairly freely
but the wound has not completely
healed. It is only a matter of a few
days now.
But to get on with my experience
after leaving Norwich. We caught
an early train and passed through
beautiful meadow and pasture country.
The fields of wheat are all alive with
poppies and the effect is great. -
red amongst the gold. We arrived
at Liverpool St shortly after 11 A.M.
and had three hours to look around
before we caught our train for Denham
- the station nearest here. -  There were
five of us - none had been in London
before and outside the station, we
were confronted with hurrying pedestrians
and whirring buses. I admit
it felt rather strange and obviously
the only thing to do to find our way
to Paddington was to ask a policeman.
I did so. "No 7 bus". he whiped ^whipped out, and
and turned his attention again to a 

3,
a congestion in the traffic. And now
another problem confronted us. Where
was No 7 bus. Scores - yes hundreds were
passing but no 7. At last however
we found one and seated on the
top prepared to enjoy our ride through
London. It was a beautiful day, and
the sky azure blue without a cloud  
fleck - not by any means the London
we had conjured up in our minds
- dirty, squalid, cheerless, cold and
everything without virtue. Instead
we found faultless roads, neither dust 
or mud, beautiful shops, gardens
parks and monuments, all in the
short run to Paddington. Here we
left our bundles, and grimly set out
on a most important function -
dinner, and a slap up one at that
- fish, [[joint?]] sweets, ices and all.
We found the place, and came
out many shillings poorer but
with a firm step and light heart.
We had had the best dinner since
leaving home! It was worth it all.
We arrived Denham at 8.10

4.
and found motors waiting to convey
us to Harefield Park. We drove along
a winding white road among rustic
homes and fine patures for three miles
and then turned through imposing
gates and drove up to the Hospital.
It is a beautiful place. - one of
the old homes you have seen pictures
of. Ivy covered home and then grouped
around the living qua^rters, music
rooms, lounges and writing rooms,
for the patients. All around is swelling
meadow land and woods. Just
behind me now, is a beautiful miniature
lake with swans on it, and
kindly ^looking old cows wading in the shallows
or basking in the sun.
General Birdwood's daughter was
here helping, She is a beautiful girl
only nineteen, and cannot do enough
for her father's "boys" as Sir William
always calls us.
We are all Australians here - 
with the exception of a few ladies helpers
- and it is great to be back amongst
your rollicking comrades after ^over five weeks.

5.
We had a cinema show last night
and a service this morning. The chaplain
- a D.S.O. - is a most masterful
man and preached a very forceful
sermon.
When we are fit to be discharged
from here, we get fourteen days furlough
and a free warrant to any part of

the United Kingdom. We are going to
Scotland - two of us - for a few days.
Norwich on the way back, and the rest
of the time with Miss Hilliar.
We are allowed out from 1 to 7 P.M.
and may also get a days' leave to
London if fit. So in reality we are in
a home away from home.
I think my pen has run away
from^with me, for I rec I've talked five pages
all about myself, but really whilst
I am writing my thoughts are with 
you all at Home, and everyday I 
pray God to protect and help you
all. Hope you had fine weather &
good health to celebrate your birthday.
Tenderest love to all.
Edgar.
P.S. Address all letters to Miss Hilliar's address as
our is constantly changing.

Letters come
quicker if you address
them to [[Clone Side?]]
No 1 Aust. Aux. Hospital.
Harefield Park
Middlesex
27^th Sept 1916.
Sisters Mine,
Quite a budget of mail came
from Head Quarters for me, and among
many others were letters from you three.
I regret my in ability to write to the three
of individually, but news is scarce, so I
adopt the plan of writing to you all.
You, tall, golden-haired one with the
artistic temperament have reached the giddy
and independent age of twenty-one, and
you have no qualms in advertising the fact
to all who have patience to listen to you,
I'll guarantee. We heard in successive
gusts often and often, that you were nearly
nineteen, then for a space you were content
with "I'm nine-teen." and after that "I'm
over nineteen" Now twenty-one being as you
no doubt think a very responsible age,
I have visions of you going around with
the troubled look of an American diplomat.
Don't do it. You have still fifty years or
more in which to grow old, but only one

2
in which to experience the thrill and joy of
"being twenty-one". May it be a happy year
for you and bring good fortune and joy to
worship at your feet. Enough!
In a few days I shall be nineteen, but
I cannot make people believe that I am a 
day under twenty-two. It was my ambition
to hold a King's Communion before Oct 1^st
but Fate has buffeted my about, although in
the buffeting I may have been cast upon 
a safe island, without knowing.
The letter I enclose is from a brother
sergeant, with a P.S by my platoon commander.
He give the name of chaps who got commission
two of them were my corporals at one time.
It also shows the lack of detail that is
enforced by the senior, even when writing to
each other, so you will understand why some
of my letters from France have been so dry
and absolutely devoid of interesting detail.
Our Battalion after doing great things at
Poziers is now at Ypress, so when I join them
again, it will probably be in the famous
Salient.
And you youngsters with the sunny
face an smart tongue, how be you? 

3
I suppose father has all his sermons
taken down in shorthand, and is unduly
criticized at Sunday dinner, an you bring out
evidence in short hand to prove your case. It is
a case of the native name of New Guinea
back to front.
There is a lovely little flaxen-haired
Belgium girl comes in to see me. She is only
four, and such a little wonder. I have been
improving her English and she speaks our
language every bit as well as on of our own
youngsters. She calls me the "Pig Sergy". She
does not of course refer to me as trotter but
Big Sergeant is what she means.
I am enclosing a few more photographs, as
you'll take care of them wont you Millie? I 
do hope you are having a good Spring. Tennis
ought to be all the "go".
Au revoir mes infants, best of love
to you one and all.
Your loving brother
Edgar

28 Sep 1916
AUSTRALIAN AUXILIARY HOSPITAL No. 1,
HAREFIELD PARK,
HAREFIELD,
MIDDLESEX.
28^th Sept. 1916.
My Dear Father,
The mail goes out this afternoon,
and we are expecting an Australian
mail in a day or so.
Mrs Bidencope was out to see me
again yesterday, and with her came
Clarence, surely an "infant terrible" in
a fierce little hair covered upper lip
and all the swagger of an English
officer. He is home on ten days' leave
and says France is "awfully bally rough".
Zepps. have been fairly busy over
London lately, but they have had to pay
for it. Our gunners brought down two
on Saturday night and Sunday morning.
Old Count Zepp has vowed to destroy
London or die. Of course he will do
the most natural thing - which by the
way most people do - and merely
die. He has lost five Zepps in the
last couple of weeks - not a bad bag,

AUSTRALIAN AUXILIARY HOSPITAL No. 1,
HAREFIELD PARK,
HAREFIELD,
MIDDLESEX.
Should I be here on the 14^th of
next month, I shall probably be going
to a Garden party at Windsor Castle.
Sorry, I could not let you know beforehand,
because I could have conveyed
your congrats. to George. I am
wondering whether he will be handing
round the cake or selling views of
the castle for Red Cross purposes.
I am afraid I have little news to
tell, but Hospital life is at times extremely
monotonous, and to say I am
full up of it would be putting things
very mild. I hope to be rid of it very soon.
With best of love and good wishes.
Edgar

AUSTRALIAN AUXILIARY HOSPITAL No. 1,
HAREFIELD PARK,
HARFIELD,
MIDDLESEX.
4^th October 1916
Mother Mine,
This mornings post brought
letters from Father, Edie and yourself,
and a mail leaves here tonight. Your
letters were in answer to those written
immediately on reaching England.
Last Sunday I celebrated my birthday
and had quite an enjoyable time.
One of the sisters here, brought me in
a huge cake with "Many Happy Returns
of the day". Mrs Dyball of whom
I have spoken before, sent a parcel
of cake, fruit, and sweets; Miss Hilliar
a parcel of beautiful socks; Miss
[[Shenney's?]] parcel came in the morning,
a beautiful jug of the famous Devonshire
cream from another friend, and
in the afternoon Miss Hilliar and
Miss Stook came out to see me. Yes my
nineteenth was quite a success.