Letter and envelope from George Courtney Benson, 6 July 1915

O.A.S.
MASTER. JACK SHRIMPTON
New COLLEGE
BOX HILL
MelbouRNE
AUSTRALIA
G.Halford
 

Gallipoli Peninsula
July 6^th
My dear Mr & Mrs Waller
'Tis often & often I've been going to tell you I'd
not forgotten, but there seems always to be something to be done,
at the very "wrongest" moment back in Egypt and - lo! there's
the first time found to write you when I'm on 'active service'
and this is the biggest sheet of paper I can find,- and I aint got
no envelopes, and the ink's indelible pencil dissolved & poured into a
fountain pen, without saying a word about the absence of writing desks!
I'd love to hear from you, & to know everything's bright & jolly for you
and the 'wee-bairns' over in dear old Sunlit Australia I guess that the
horrors & wretchedness of warfare are really felt more acutely ^there than they
are here at present thru the dail lists of casualties being published there
daily, and the presence of the poor folk who are left to mourn the ones
who died here or whom they was will see again maimed and worse
than dead. but there have been times - when the wounded have been taken
down in long streams, or when the fine big chaps have [[?]] [[?]]
sheep, lying still & so helpless that the awful idiocy of it all is so
apparent.
These things haven't been so, lately because each opposing force
is so strongly entrenched, but early in the game when ^we were establishing

our position & there wasn't the cover that there is now - for the first
week or more, - was pretty cruel. One didnt have time to moralize
then, and twas a matter of keeping low and "doubling" over the bad patches.
One's thoughts (and hopes) were just concerned with xxxx "getting
there"; but now we're pretty well dug in - course the big shells are
pretty penetrating, yet they do comparatively little damage. - and I've
had a good deal of time to think since I finished up my especial work -
and perhaps it's better not to think.
Guess I'd better quit the mood I'm in now - I wrote to started to
write you to make me forget the mad mood I was in and I'm nearly
drifting deeper into it. Lord but you'll think I've developed into
a queer dour sour sort of being and that I'm regretting that
I stepped into "Armour". Not at all must you be thinking that
now - I've just had the blues a bit lately through having finished up my own
 

work and there wont be any call on my pencil till we get forward
again - and tis scarcely a 'drawing room life' I'm leading by the same
token. I dont regret, but I do wish 'twere all over and everything be
like it used to was'. I hereby write my self out an invitation to call on
you almost as soon as I get home to see you again as in the old days. I fancy
'twas just about a week before I 'listed that I was out one evening, & Bun
& Eff were there too, and the "skies looked somewhat dark" then for you - I was
a little exercised in my mind as to whether I should go or not that night, &
spoke about it, and you "opined" that I could do my little bit, and that
about finally fixed it for me.
That pencil that used to delight the thousands/screams of mirth/ back
in times o'peace has been found a useful factor to the Powers military
and it has been my duty (& good fortune) to note the enemy's territory
from points all round the lines, which one day will be of some at
least historical interest as they are of use in reference now. —(which being
my Great Skill. I close now with the usual benediction.) There is
too much bally 'I & me' & what I've done & seen right thru out this
letter and you'll be tired - just fancy the boredom resulting from someone
using the personal pronoun ^so much in conversation - one would feel inclined to
[[bite?]] through.
Bun has written two or three times - he's just great is Bunkie. -
And the last letter was about wee winkle willie - his wonderful new
baby. 'Tis the happy folk you are all with your babes & fairies.
and can you wonder I get the pip and feel lonely at times, when I
think of my wonderful friends — you're all the best friends in the world.
I must bring back a couple of shells with me ^for Mrs. Shrimpton - they're quite an artistic
vase, shape & color and all. Ive just tried the effect of some branches
of young green oak bx 'branchlets in one and 'tis fine. — Later on
same evening - I was lucky this evening " struck a "find" on my way to get water;
- a beaten copper dish about 18 inches in diameter, probably discarded by some infantry
chap who had got xxx outside our lines - the Turks use them as a cooking dish and
there aren't too many of them about. Ive spent all the evening taking the black off &
the next trouble is to get it home.) 'Tis "some" find. I've a notion 'twould be just
fine if you'd write me a letter some time, will you please?'Twould be just grand to hear
that all the best that life offers is coming your way. 'Case you do my address will
be Corporal G.C. Benson 2180.
3^RD FIELD ARTILLERY BDE.
HEAD QUARTERS.
1^ST AIF
ON SERVICE-GALLIPOLI
/ or elswhere)
Hand drawn diagram – see original
I'll have to find
more note paper.
PR 88/177
AUSTRALIAN
WAR MEMORIAL
 

Righto! Have just torn a sheet
of my diary book out, and for a
few moments have been listening to the
rifle fire (the Turks are making a display
of firing) Ive just been trying to remember
a sound that's like it and about the nearest
I can find to it is, say clothes bubbling &
boiling with the cover tight down on them.
or the "crackling" flapping of a loose sail
on a gusty day. 'Tis funny, the "tunes
they play" Tomorrow Im going up on a
phone _I'm glad that I might have something
to do now for a time at least, instead 
of lying down all day long in the dug out.
- my Home, at present: Let's deserb
describe it. Imagine a hill with a steep
[[shaft]] Cut a hole out about 6 feet deep [[?]]
with sand bags at the sides, and a large piece of
timber across the top from which are stretched
two waterproof sheets, then from the front cover
end take away the earth right out to the level of
the floor and - there you are!
Here it is
Hand drawn diagrams – see original
Of course you have to imagine that the waterproof sheets are not there.
So now - you know,
or-
 

from these drawings - I guess youll
be more mystified than ever. Ive
just looked at them myself and can't
make them out at all.
For furnishing theres a cupboard - a
hole made in the wall and a box stuck
into it. Table? why yes - a piece of biscuit
box resting on a biscuit tin and for a
chair - a water Tin. Four shell cases
make a fine fireplace, and for a dresser
to carry the "crockery," a forked stick in the
ground outside. "Tis a mad world, my
master "isn't it? One finds thousands
of ways of urging comfort out of things
even here. (but Lord a little Keen's would
"go" well with the bully beef eh what?)
Now, don't you think I'd better
cease. Days now are lacking incident
except the occasional lazy shell
screaming over the beach and the
"whizz-bang!" of the ones that come
over the hill, with intermittent rifle
fire during the day which "brightens"
up in the night a bit but I fancy
a little while hence there'll be a
slight change, and then there'll
be something to talk of. Now 'Here's to
a happy ending' and a speedy return
to 'My Australia. With all best wishes
for just everything good for you
I'm very sincerely Yours
G C Ben
PR 88/177
[[?]]