Letters from George Alexander Hugh Murray to his family, 1917 - Part 10

country to look at, for there are 
fields & farm houses, while at the
Somme you could go for miles
& miles & never see even a house
only heaps of brickbats.
I have just got word that the
mail closes shortly but no
time is given so I am writing
this one to make sure of one
going or written every week
Well I cannot think of any more
to say so I will close hoping you
are all well as I am to perfection
Your loving brother
George

France
September
2-9-17
Dear Lena
I have received no letters
from you for some time in fact

none from home either but
I met Les & went to his camp
& got the letters that were
written to him so I have not
fared too badly but why
can he get them & I cannot
for they must be travelling
about the country looking for 
me.
I cannot find any more trace
of Jim & Les has been to the

battalion & saw Will Morrison

but all he could tell him

that some papers & Photos that

Jim had in his pockets have

been picked up, so I do not

know what to think about it

Buts let hope & pray that he

 

2

is safe & well, if in enemys hands

Les saw Malcolm Kinghorn but could

not remember who he was. I saw

Gordon Cameron a few days ago also

Jim Haytin.

It has been terrible weather for

the last fortnight nothing but rain

and wind & very cold into the

bargain Very funny weather for

this time of the year but one

must not forget that the

winter is drawing near & I can

say that many are dreading the 

idea of doing duty here through

the winter months for the last

one shook the colonials up very 

much.

The Frenchies have most of their

harvest in now but no sooner

is one crop off the ground

than they have another to

take its place. All the cattle are

stabled & during cold weather

one never let out

 

top left corner of page torn off

 

before a nice

fairly comfortable

room but there is no plan to in

the windows where it should be &

fo the place is very draughty, rain

comes through the roof & there

has been a shell through the

rear part of the building

Well I cannot think of any

thing more to say so I will close

with fondest love

Your loving Brother

George.

 

England

September 11-9-17

All at home

I received your ever welcome

letters just before I went on

leave. I & another chap were

passing the time away by walking

through Deltote village when

a runner came to me & told

me I had to go on leave at

once I just had an hour to

change & go six miles to a

place called Reglingham to catch

the motor lorry to Bor[[?]]

where I stayed the night &

then on to Lillies next day,

where I took the train through

St Oma [[?Clive Hayebrouch]]

to Bologne landing there at

eight oclock. Les is quartered

about 8 miles from Bologne

The journey across the water was

 

lovely, hardly a ripple on the sea

Landed at 11-30 then off to London

Got fixed up & away by 5-30.

In one of your letters you said

that Rojash was posted as

missing, well I cannot understand

how that is for I seen him

on the 9-9-17 marching with

his unit that is if there is

only one by that name & coming

from that district

I have been in Belgium a long 

time round about Ypres &

Armentieres & Neuve Eglise but

now the unit has shifted

to Lill[[?irs]] near Bethune xx

on the Lens frontier so I suppose

the boys are in for another

warm time. The fourth Division 

is the only Aust. Division that

has not had a spell since

coming to France over 18 months

ago which the celebrated third

 

then and they had no gum to back

themselves up with & the Germans

advanced & captured or killed

the lot.

It is a lovely sunny day

no sound of the guns though

last night there was a bit of

firing.

I have not found any more trace

of poor Jim.

Well I cannot say any more

but will write again bf before

I go back to that inferno of

shot skill & gas.

Goodbye for the present

Your loving son

George.

Just six days short of 1000 days

since I said Goodbye to Melbourne

town. This year seems to have

gone on wings for it xseems no 

time since Christmas.

George.

 

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