Diary transcript of Reginald Harriman Heywood, 1917 -1918 - Part 2

10
Clark and Phillips were treated similarly but not being 
verbose deemed resistance useless. Snowy Tuck and self had
meanwhile somewhat woken up, and Snowy who has been at Dookie
rapidly grasped the situation and we were more or less prepared
to defend ourselves. When it comes to funny business John is

a bit of a humorist himself, and while he's a bit too far on
into the sere and yellow to make a dash for it he's young enough
to back into the wall and get busy with the assault and battery.
When the somewhat boozed Finney came into the tent and asked for
Pte. Reynolds he got him alright - too much you bet two or 3 in
the wind and one of the best on the jaw. As it was dark in the
tent Finney was somewhat startled and a whole lot frightened and
he retreated followed by poor old John who was fairly warmed up
and offered to fight the whole lot of them. I stuck to John and
altho' somewhat hampered by having no boot managed to knock the
adjutant over the ropes into the tent.
However they managed to quieten Snowy and explained that it
was all a joke so we decided to let them have their drunken way
and submitted to their stern discipline and were welcomed as good
fellows and all the rest. Then the Squad. repaired to the Mess
Room and were regaled on whisky and cigarettes. Q.M. Lt. O'Bourne
was particularly amusing, and personally I don't mind how often
they wake me to regale me on drinks &c.
8.17. Some have greatness thrust upon them - to-day were inspected
by Gen. Birdwood and Col. E.A. Kendall who is the D.D.V.S. A.A.V.C.
Birdie still seems to be very popular amongst most of the
troops tho' he has no time for anyone who was not an Anzac. He
seems to have lost his punch in some directions and has been
counted out by some battalions.
E.A. cheered us with the news that there is nothing for us
to do in the immediate future bar mess round here.
Walked down to the beach again in the evening and were
entertained in a way that we haven't been for many a day. Some
night air scouts were buzzing around, and they of course carry
lights - the regulation red and green, and some of them landed
opposite the aerodrome with the aid of a searchlight and the
sight the big machines present when they enter into the rays of
the light is most beautiful and truly wonderful.
Another fine sight was the searchlight picking out a big
'plane at a fair height - it made the machine look like burnished
gold, but we weren't quite sure whether he was a hun or not.
Another sight less beautiful but more awe-inspiring was
the/

11
the reflection from the bombardment up at the line. It seemed
to be particularly vigorous and extended over a very large
front last night.
17.8.17. Walked down to Sandgattes on the coast and along the
beach towards Cap Griz Nez of Scarlet Pimpernel fame.
Tuck, Snowy and I indulged in a swim and enjoyed it
immensely. We were attired in our identification discs - and it
is more or less inconvenient to have to remain in the water
during the passing to and fro of numerous Frenchwomen - such
is false modesty.
O'Byrne is the dizzy limit alright - he has just entertained
us with an account of his last leave in London when he
and some pals who had just got their commissions spent £375
among 3 of them in 10 days. One night at a vaudeville show
must have been good - they occupied a box in a favourable
position for throwing oranges &c. to a person who was some
success as a juggler and who was catching them on a fork held
in his mouth. He was in great form until they threw him a
flower-pot and this somewhat disconcerted him. They also took
French leave of a furniture van and drove on the roof to
Frascatis. Most of their experiences are hardly mentionable
here.
We walked about 10 miles altogether for our swim and
to-night it feels every inch of it.
18.8.17. This morning Archdeacon Ward gave us an address - on the
feminine persuasion of course - he has a fine voice and his
effort was altogether enjoyable.
In the afternoon we walked our regulation 10 miles and
bathed at Sandgattes again.
The constant procession of steamers of every class kind
and description is a revealation. They seem to come down
parallel with the Coast from Calais and Dunkirk probably and
proceed down till about opposite Boulogne and head off
towards the West.
19.8.17. Sunday and church parade - the Padre seemed more
clerical than when he was lit up so the other night at our
initiation.
The accompaniment for the hymns was provided by an
earnest tho' somewhat misguided imperial A.V.C. man with a
cornet.
We/

12

We were a bit shin sore so did not take our afternoon's
promenade - which was fortunate as I received quite a budget of
letters from London including some from home 2 from Blob and
others.
In the evening we were treated to an air raid probably
on Dunkirk - fortunately. The raiders were getting a very warm
reception from the Archies judging by the no. of shells bursting.
The bombardment up at the line seemed to reach an
hysterical pitch also.
20.8.17. Quite an Australian day to-day not a cloud and no wind
for a change.
Have discovered that Co. Whitfield is an old Melburnian,
left about 1900. We are going to have a lot to say after this
war - who gets all the staff jobs and the transport and the soft

cops generally? the Imperials. Who are the horsemasters - the
biggest joke ever perpetrated on any one generally - majors too!
more imperials: and they won't even recognize graduates of the
M.U.V.S. By a great piece of condescension they allow us to do
their dirty work. during the war but after that we are to be excluded
again. I might add that the Royal College London isn't
in the same class as ours.
Paddled down to Sandgattes again and enjoyed another swim.
We have joined the Society of growlers now and spend most
of our time cursing the U boats who sink our mails.
21.8.17. Another lovely day - and quite a budget of letters from
Mr. Treadaway also some Australasians. Nothing to do so what
more could a man want.
Wandered over to Sandgatte again and enjoyed a swim - it

is remarkable how warm the water is and there is always something
to see down at the beach.
22.8.17. Still another perfect day but have a feeling we are going
to have a change. Spent the morning off-siding for the orderly
officer for the day. I suppose we are going to have to take our
turn shortly.
This is going to be some hospital shortly. The operating
theatre and other appointments are very good. There will be
accommodation for 1300 sick horses - there will be something to
do then won't there?
I might mention in passing that it costs £3 to £4 per
week/ 

13.
week to get horses fit again so you don't need to be too
long over it, as very ordinary horses cost £100 - when they
can be obtained - they have to be patched up too.
Did the usual Sandgatte in the afternoon. In the
evening (10 p.m.) did the rounds with "very good" Eddie. There
was a glorious thunderstorm on and its no easy job finding
one's way round the heaps of metal, cement, timber &c. Deep
drains in the course of construction are a constant menace too,
and Eddie managed to fall into a partic: deep one.
23.8.17. During the construction of this place the services of
every kind of skilled laborer have been required - plumbers,
carpenters, concreters, bricklayers and a dozen others and it
speaks well for Australian that it has always been possible to
find them in the unit which is by no means a specialist one,
but is made up of odds and ends (P.B.) from everywhere A.S.C.
Artillery D.A.C. &c. Good tradesmen they are too judging by
results.
It was a little too cool to indulge in our usual "bob
down you're spotted" at Sandgatte so we surveyed out a short
cut to Calais - thro' swamps and over canals, crops &c. and
finally reached the place and confirmed our previous bad impression
of it.
We had the most gorgeous sort of a storm in the late
evening - made one of Bland Holts best look like a magic
lantern lecture on Palestine by the vicar in the Parish Hall.
The old tent tho' proved herself a great weight carrier and
moderately watertight - but we didn't shout that from the
housetops - some of the other tents proved duds.
4.8.17. Very windy and showery. La Belle France - perhaps.
There are times when its very nice, what with the trees and
the crops &c. and the giddy old windmills you get dolce far
nieunte handed out in chunks sometimes, but the smells and the
mud and the dirt pull down the average a whole lot. No wonder
France produced Pasteur - she needed him.
In the afternoon journeyed to Calais - where I
indulged in a rag-time shampoo administered by a youth of about

13. I had to disinter a franc for it too.
Then Tom and I visited a rough imitation of a picture
show. Talk about dark inside - it was worse than being on the
Benalla. I rather enjoyed being led about by the hand tho' till

the light went up and I saw the leader.
We/

14
We were some "reconciled' tho' at finding ourselves
in sole possession of a box - box was a good name for it too.

"Chaplet" was on - in "Tilly's punctured romance" in Melb.
about 1913.
5.8.17. What do you think of Robbie? You remember how he's
lectured us on breach of promise and all that sort of thing,
and on the superfluity of the woman and the perquisite of her sex,
on her untrustworthiness, her frailty, selfishness and pigheadedness
in general, and in particular her crime in endeavouring
to whitewash the hideous veracity of life with a little
powder. The mention of a women was sufficient to cause a
frost to gather on the scene and Robbie to button his pockets
and surge profanely into his_trionics.
This is a case tho' where you can't bank on past
performances - Robbie's struck a new gait. Cherchez-la-femme!
He's been into Calais pretty consistently lately - "one
or two little matters to attend to" and now we find he's reached
down a star - haven't seen her yet but she's the goods alright.
Robbie's beginning to find that the man who travels in
one class all the time, misses a lot of fun.
Went for a grand ride in the afternoon. The crops are
all cut and as there are no fences you can ride over the fields
for miles. Rode along the cliffs for miles overlooking the
channel towards England, which was plainly visible. Traffic
was partic: busy and we saw 10 T.B.D's in a bunch.
6.8.17. Sunday and Church parade - the Padre was quite good but
you couldn't help remembering that brawl the other night.
The weather clearing somewhat Tom and I were persuaded
to visit Calais in the hope of seeing Robbie and his bunch of
violets - doomed to disappointment tho'.
We mixed with Tommies, French, Portugeuese, Belges &c.

and the elite of Calais on the beach. Simple souls - they
rejoice in "Ball" and "Blind Man's Buff" and other inspiriting
rough and tumble.
Got well wet thro' on the way home.
27.8.17. Very wet windy and cold and the mud is disgusting
already.
My turn on Orderley Officer - once in 10 days - we
are/

15
are overworked aren't we?
The men were standing up to their ankles at 9 a.m.
parade in mud so there weren't any dirty boots - no complaints
at dinner - nobody failed to fall in for guard and picket at
7 p.m. so it wasn't a very strenuous day but ploughing thro'
the mud and rain and dark on the 10 p.m. round wasn't much
of a success.
Sent over to Leslie MacPherson for a French grammar,

at present I only know enough to do a little rough courting

and a giddy swear or two. That doesn't get you far.

Robbie is now breaking his neck to get down to

Boulogne to see a nurse at the A.G. Hospital. I don't know

what Robbie's got but he's got it in a virulent form. He's

taken to having a look thro' the small end of a glass now

and then too. I tell him business is like oil and won't mix

with anything but business and that marriage is alright so

long as you don't make a habit of it, but he's away now after

a movement order to Boulogne, yes and he's down on the card to

further the grand alliance on Thurs: afternoon. Robbie must

have lived where his money hardly whispered but now he's

making it fairly shout.

If he ever gets to Paris he'll be like a copy of an

old master done by a signwriter on a barn.

28.8.17. The whole countryside is on the move to-day at least

all that isn't tied down pretty securely. Throw in the fact

that there is a cold driving rain and that our tent is only

indifferently watertight under those circumstances, and you

get a fair idea of the picture.

The wind is no joke and a good many of the tents

have gone to the bow-bwows.
By dint of constantly reinforcing the pegs we have

kept ours to mother earth so far, but I don't want to bet, and

anyway you bring in about 1 cwt. of mud per time. At lunch

time the excitement was intense and on looking out of the

tent after vainly trying to restore a little order inside I

was confronted by the sight of the O.C. and about 15 others

clinging on to the roof of the mess in an heroic endeavour to

prevent its flip flapping off in the breeze - grave symptoms

of which were evident. O'B and other heavy weights gallantly

climbed up and risked their lives as human paper weights.

What gave the salvage operations extra weight was the fact

that a good lunch was inside and in a fair way to emulate

the/

16

the efforts of the roof. Leeches weren't in it!

With the aid of ropes and reinforcements the giddy old

concern was kept in position long enough to finally allow the

engineers to tether and bind it down to terra firma.

It calmed down a little in the afternoon, and we went for

our constitutional. You could hardly believe your senses when you

see the filth and squalor of some of the farms. John says if he'd

paid a couple of hundred for a trip to France he'd want his money

back.

.8.17. The weather continues vile - and under these circs.

there is about as much to do as there was on the old Benalla.

I have been posted to a subdivision A. which contains

about 40 or 50 men and a block of 5 sets of stables each set having

25 boxes, a dressing shed, offices &c. As there are still no

patients this is not a very strenuous job, but there will be

plenty to do later. Chum and Billie Thomson are in my sub:

Tom and I braved the elements in the afternoon and walked

into Calais where I procured a sketch book - hope I have not lost

the art altogether. Robbie went to Boulogne - left here about 

4.30. a.m. He was so elated with his day that he returned without

a ticket leaving the train about ¾ of a mile out of Calais and

sprinting across country. Amongst others at the A.G.H. there

is Dick Leeming's sister of E. Malon.

.8.17. The weather continues the same, only more so. I'll never

complain about the Victorian climate again - not so you'd notice

anyhow.

O'B and I rode out thro' Calais to a place called Beau

Mairais to an ordnance depot of wrecked and damaged wagons,

ambulances, gun carriages, limbers, Lewis gun carriages &c. acres

and acres of them. O'B wanted 2 or 3 wagons so we picked out 9

and branded them for repairs. It will be funny if they let us

have the lot, especially as they include a gig and a couple of

light wagon-buggies. No more walking after they arrive. We

found in the evening that Caibye had won the Aust. Steeple for

Uncle Phil, so that meant drinks all round - on me.

.8.17. The weather a little more propitious at last and Snowy

and I wandered into Calais in search of a camp stretcher and

boots. We spent an hour and 20 minutes in a shop with the manager

and two assistants as busy as beetles all the time. Their very

bad and limited English and our worse French were hardly conducive

of expeditious business. We finally emerged from the ordeal

without/

17

without the boots, but having promised to return on Monday

next - leaving a deposit as an earnest of our intentions:

we could hardly do less.

In the evening we were treated to a concert by a party

from London in the Y.M. hut at No. 4 and it was altogether

enjoyable.

Eddie got into a heated argument later, as to the merits

of the violiniste. He maintained that she wasn't a good player.

He finally silenced the opposition by saying that he enjoyed

her effort immensely and he admitted that he knows nothing

about music and that good music bores him to extinction and

that therefore she couldn't be a star performer. "Miss O'Grady"

gave rather a poor account of Margaret Cooper's "Hello Tu Tu"

but scored a hit with "Nightlights."

1.9.17. Another bad relapse of the weather - more gales and

rain. Some climate!

Finney and I suitably upholstered went for a ride in

the afternoon and en passant called in at the "Fannies"

(F.A.N.Y.S.) headquarters. The said Fannies are English girls

who run a convoy of motors for the conveyance of wounded

Belgians. They are made up of all sorts - the girls I mean -

nobs down to actresses and others. They seem to be fairly

comfortably quartered and gave us a good afternoon tea and

some indifferent music.

Afterwards the man with the outlines of a bal^loon and

the instincts of a cow and I rode along the beach and went

for a ½ ml flutter which was quite good and shook down the

afternoon tea.

On the way back we passed the aerodromes, most of which

had been destroyed by the recent gales. There were piles of

aeroplanes resembling old iron scrap heaps.

2.9.17. Clearing up at last and after safely negotiating

church parade and dinner (mid-day) journeyed to Calais and

joined the throng on the beach.

Had a most interesting conversation with a little French

girl "Amaryllis". She couldn't speak a word of English and my

French grammar hasn't come yet. I ask you?

Every attempt I made was greeted with peals of laughter

and excited a stream of particularly unintelligible jargon.

On paper I was more to the point tho' and after a series of

notes I found that I had invited myself to afternoon tea with 

her/

18

her at "Amaryllis" next Sunday afternoon.

Snowy and Finney with J.V. McGuiness of W'bool fame for

for an orderley, had an eventful ride in the afternoon. They

went across country and John had two falls, and finally J.V.

got into a ditch horse and all and took some time to get out.

An air raid in the late evening - in the course of which

the Huns flew over us 3 times and in which we were in more

danger from the Archies of the wildly excited French batteries

ended a quiet Sunday. The batteries blaze away in every

direction and the shell cases make a terrible row coming down.

I forgot to mention that Eddie favours Jack's church

down at Coquells now. He has taken a violent dislike to our

earnest tho' misguided cornet player. During the hot test part

of the raid he paused in the midst of some drunken revels to

mention that "By - there must be a giddy war on somewhere". We

wouldn't mind the arche^is so much if they wouldn't hunt the

cursed Huns over this way.

3.9.17. Pay day and I had the pleasure of handing out 2800.1IV

to the men. Its not the game its cracked up to be.
It was some day for Eddie too - getting his Australian
mail off. He sends two postcards a week one to each of his
two kiddies and addressed to his wife. That is the full
extent of his correspondence, and he naively explains that if
he happens to miss a mail or two he blames "the giddy U boats".
On top of safely getting thro' with his correspondence he
received the glad news that he's to proceed forthwith up to
the line, an event he has been breaking his neck for.
Eddie has declared war and wonders if the Kaiser has
heard he's coming - he promptly invited me to have "four" drinks
and it was some night, tho' the proceedings were somewhat
hampered by another invasion by Hun 'planes. We shall miss
Eddie tho'.
4.9.17. Padded into Calais to inspect the damage down by the
raiders and found it to be considerable. Unfortunately there
was a heavy casualty list - including Tommies at Beau Marais,
Frenchmen from Coquelles, Civilians and Chinamen of the labour
battalions. At present they are busy raking out remains from
buildings. Fortunately they didn't get on to the ammunition
but were very close to the railway and canal.
In the evening we were treated to another raid - the
star performance up to date. They dropped bombs wholesale and
must/

19.
must have been a large squadron. They passed over us four
times and generally made night hideous. As the Archies
remained silent on their last trio we concluded that some
of our machines were up.
What's the use anyhow! - the weather is now perfect
and out come the Huns. The first fine nights we have had for
some time and they've been over three nights running and have
dropped notes promising to come for ten consecutive nights.
It gets on one's nerves I can tell you.
5.9.17. This place appears to be on the site of an ancient
battle ground and it is possible to unearth a giddy skeleton
almost anywhere. Must be a relic of 1870 or of Edward III
who I think had a few rough scraps round about here, and a
penchant for hanging people.
The ruins in our little bone yard next door are
suggestive of artillery and '70 as the church heretofore
mentioned - barring the tower - has almost completely disappeared.
At present they are busy in the bone-yard on a big
grave to bury 7 chasseurs in - victims of the raid. The poor
beggars (13 of them, of France's picked troops) were out of
the line resting at Coquelles and 7 were killed and 6 wounded -
just plain murdered.
The weather prevented the Huns fulfilling their engagement
in the night but a very vivid thunderstorm was almost as
startling - if much less fatal.
6.9.17. Saw the military funeral of the 7 murdered chasseurs.
Seven pathetic coffins drawn on machine gun carriages by mules.
The event was most impressive. The procession included a
very fine band and they played a most haunting funeral march -
the name of which even Robbie was ignorant of.
The "Last Post" was played by 8 or 10 buglers who were
picked up gradually by the drums and finally by the whole band.
A truly French touch was an impassioned sort of a
speech by a French officer. I couldn't get much of it but
heard him describe how his "enfants" had been murdered by
cowards and asking the others to level up the score - would
they? Sort of one up but two to play.
Poor old Eddie left about 12.30 a.m. for St.Omer or
what/