Diary transcript of Reginald Harriman Heywood, 1917 -1918 - Part 5

40

Too dark for Fritz's planes last night so just to keep

us from brooding he sent over 5 shells - 5 beauties and they

must have come 23 miles or so. Each one weighs about ¾ of a 

ton and by the time they arrive here they are most gushing.

George has been reproved by a bunch of muslin over in

London for not writing her - so he now laboriously pens a

request for some "Kiwi".

Some more of the Divn. has pulled out so we are in

hopes of leaving shortly.

A couple of kits baloon experts have just blown in and

inaugurated a campaign of frightfulness on the rats. With a

small dog and a large bundle of explosives of varying odors

they are makings things very unpleasant and have just succeeded

in blowing a hole thro' the floor and filling the room with

nauseous gases. If the rats feel as unhappy as I do they'll

leave as I am doing.

25.10.17. On returning from my rounds was greeted with a proper

bolt from the blue Jimmie informing me that I am to leave him

and live with the 4th Bde. Hqrs. I am also to act as entraining

V.O. - some job! I thought this was too good to last. I

might explain that the Div. is leaving for a Southern area;

some distance away apparently as we are going per train. Try

to imagine what sort of a job it is to move the best part of

a Div. with its 20,000 men, horses, wagons, kitchens, ambulances

engineers, forage and a hundred and one other things such as 

pianos, scenery &c. &c.

Sadly I got underway and with Dick, batman, and groom

soon formed my new base.

I was introduced to my new O.C. General Brand and he

promptly took me off to a Pierrot show with a couple more

giddy generals and a Colonel. I felt like the late lamented

Daniel. The show was excellent and provided wholly by the

brigade with their own piano, scenery, and everything.

I've paid 5/- to see many a worse show.

26.10.17 What a life! Arose before dawn and in the mud rain and

cold found my way thro' Poperinghe to Hopoutre siding where

after waiting the best part of two hours we loaded 2 battalions

of the 12th Bde. on the train. I might add that Pop. is 

constantly bombed and shelled from a distance of 20 odd miles.

Returned to breakfast, and later on in the day repeated the

performance with the remaining battn. of the 12th Bde.

41

Our brigade (4th) goes on two trains from Vlamertigue

tomorrow, the first to load at 5 a.m. so that means reveille at

about 3 a.m. I go on the last train, of course, loading in the 

afternoon and probably arriving at the disentraining station

about midnight. As there is a march of 15 miles at the other

end the aspect is trimmed with ultramarine. Quel vie!

17.10.17 Got out of the barrier well but as expected had a

weary wait for the train, which we finally loaded and despatched

at 11 a.m. three hours late. I couldn't see any sense in keeping

Dick hanging about all day so sent him in the first train

with Claydon my groom.

Then I had to kill time till 2 p.m. when the second lot

were due to arrive so I went and inspected the ex-town of

Vlamertighue. It stands, or to be more correct, it lies midway

between Ypres and Poperinghe and for desolation and ruin it

would be hard to beat. I was glad to leave it.

I had left camp with three chilled hen fruits, hard

boiled and a few sandwiches, and having palled up with an old

chap with a brazier in a bit of a dug out made a cup of tea and

cracked the second egg, and then retired into a haystack to

sleep off the effects of this gorgeous repast.

The transport &c. began to arrive about 2 p.m. the

train being due at 3.15. Needless to say it was late and we

had to load in the moonlight. I wonder who is responsible for

these things - there we were, men, horses and wagons packed on

the platform in the bright moonlight with several of Fritz

planes bombing all round and anti-air craft stuff falling all

over the place. Fritz also pours shells into Ypres and

frequently Poperinghe.

We finally pulled out about 7.30 but did not arrive

at Wizenes till nearly two. Talk about cold! and the windows

had long since been blown out of our carriage. I was keeping

the 3rd egg up my sleeve as it were but I was in with a poor

chap who hadn't had anything to eat since 2.a.m. in the morn:

so handed it and the remaining sandwich over to him. I munched

a couple of biscuits and washed it down with some of that

excellent brandy that I have carried all the way from Aussie.

28.10.17. The poor boys had to set to at 2 a.m. on arrival at

(Sunday) Wizenes and unload again on to the ground this time too and

the 4th Field Ambulances are enormous things. As soon as the

horses were safely off (4 a.m.) I rushed off to the R.T.O's
billet and climbed into a most gorgeous bed where I got as

warm as toast and slept till awakened at 8. Then I smelt out 

an/

42

an estaminet and procured more eggs and excellent coffee

and toast - some feed.

Arriving at the station I found all the transport had

started on their fifteen mile trek some two hours before, so I

climbed into a bus, several of which were taking the 13th Battn

to Fontain-les-Doulons 5 kilos away from Brigade Hqrs. On

arriving there I borrowed a horse from Col. Marks and arrived

at Lisbourg at 1p.m. Home and dried. I found my batman, groom

and Dick were here and comfortably billeted and pour moi!

I have a grand second story balcony room, a bed for the gods,

and perquisites to order - the only thing I can find fault with

is the wall paper which is a Zig Zag pattern to say the least

of it. The two old French people who own the show can't do

enough for me and the old lady went off to Fruges to buy me some

new sheets - mind you.

The other officers are billeted close at hand and we have a 

mess only a few yards away.

The country is decidedly pretty, undulating and wooded - so

different from muddy Flanders. What a relief it is to get

away from the guns and bombs, for me even, what must it be for

the infantry and artillery, and in fact all of them. The bed

is soft, short and heavenly.

29.10.17. Had a terrible job to separate myself from the bed but the

bally batman insisted so reluctantly I got up. It was a lovely

morn: and I began to find all sorts of undreamt of picturesqueness

in the village. I was tempted to ride to Bomy - 8 kilos

away to see our esteemed Bill.

Old Dick is feeling very fit and on the level the country

is pretty. The trees which are numerous are turning yellow,

gold, brown and red and the hedges are beautiful.

Found Bill very comfortable and amiable and we soon

swept business off the board. I am to take charge of the Bdge

clipping. Perused Bill's literature including 3 Australasians

and 3 Bulletins and then returned.

Spent the afternoon going thro' my official documents and

doing a sketch of mine host, who happens to be the local

schoolmaster. 

Went to our Pierrots in the eve - very good again, the

star being "Where did that one go Herbert" by "Old Bill", with

a realistic imitation of a big shell buzzing down and bursting

and then played Poker with a Belgique,a Canadian, and a young French/

 

43

French officer - three of the best.

30.10.17. Normal weather again - cold and wet.

With my Sergt (Williams) toured round some of the units

and found all pretty correct.
Even the weather couldn't detract from the merits of the
ride towards Verchin along what we would call in Ausie a bush

track. There is a thick carpet of fallen leaves and the track

leads thro' some miles of quite big trees, beeches, elms and

others I don't know.  The colors are beautiful and the scene

would have old Turner and all the other landscapists guessing.
In the afternoon assisted by the Town Major, who happens to be

the Canadian afore mentioned and "Turps" the young French interpreter who is a very nice boy went and picked a site for the

clipping operations which are to commence tomorrow.  Turps does

the arguing.  Talking of Town Majors reminds me of the English

Johnnie T.M. who implored me to go and ask some of our boys to

do something or other - adding, "if I ask them they'll tell me

to go to hell."

Just as things seem to be coming our way a bit and I am

beginning to hope for big things the poor old Staka-d-oyste^rs go

to the pack. You can't trust these foreigners can you.  Vive

l'Italia!

31.7.17. Clipping is alright and theory on paper is perfect but

then it fades away.  There are 5 machines and we are to get done
a minimum of 30 per day, but when the machines arrived we found

only one could be made to work.  The T.O. and I messed about and
finally got two more to work but at that we could only get 15

done, so I dropped a line to Bill and advised him to come and

collar hold.

The Gen. has dragged me in on his football scheme - he is

running two competitions Rugby and Austn Rules, for 10 Gn Cups.

At present it looks as tho' I am to occupy the unhappy
position of umpire in the Austn. league, in which Percy Trotter

and Mother Mortimer are shining lights.

Played poker again last night. M. Belgique seems to have

better luck than most of his countrymen.

1.11.17. When I say we are out for a rest it is purely a mental

rest I mean. Physical rest is a thing unknown in the best

armies, and one's only chance is a severe wound - how everyone

prays for a good "Blighty".  Being sick is no good, nearly

all/

 

44

all the poor beggars here have been gassed lately and are

all suffering from a form of laryngitis - they can only

whisper and the mess resembles a meeting of the I.W.W. or other

secret Society, so what's the use.
If I were one of the kind that worries I would get no

mental rest either, but when Bill starts anything I advise him

to send me home, see! Even so, I am much busier here than I was 

up the line and as we are 15 kilos or more from the Mobile I

have to make an attempt at doing my own patching up.

One thing about being low down in the army - you can

always pass your troubles on to soe one higher up. Worrying

is contra indicated  - it isn't done in the best armies. Ever

since I sent Bill the S.O.S. about the clipping he's been

buzzing back and forth between here and Bomy in his car and

causing a great stir.  Pour moi. Je suis fini.  That's the best

of other people's troubles, they're so easy to forget. Mus

run over to Fruges and get my hair harvested

2.11.17. Talking about hair reminds me that on catching sight of

my thatch in the pier glass the other day I was some astonished

to note that it is turning silvery white. But then everyone

goes grey or bald at this game.  I'm grey, bald to follow,

I s'pose. I've heard a lot about Scotch mist in my time but

I never saw one till to-day. It appeared with the dawn and the

oldest inhabitants say it will probably last some days.  It
resembles a very heavy fog but wets one thro' in about ¼ of an

hour - very cheerful.  Added to that acting on a special S.O.S.

from Bill I had to go and operate on a nasty quittor case of

the Pioneers at Verchin.  Of course the old moke with an eye

for the humorous had taken position in the middle of a

semi-swamp whence it couldn't be removed.
The operation was more or less successful and what is

more the animal still lives.

A meeting of the "Other" F.C. for whom I am to play

elicited the fact that we can muster 16 and two possibles so

it appears that we will be with the also rans.  More poker in

the evening and I begin to wonder why I was foolish enough to 

subscribe to Belgian relief funds - that's how M. Belgique

plays.

3.11.17.  Went round the whole brigade, and the 7th A.S.C. as well

before dinner at 1 p.m.  That involved a ride of 15 to 18

miles altogether and as there were several odd jobs to do on

the/

 

45

the way I put in a very fair mornings work.

What I'm aiming at is a whole day's loaf tomorrow.

Bill much to my delight still takes a personal interest in the

clipping, so I spent the afternoon writing more or less caustic

replies to the sheaves of memos which arrive from the D.A.D.V.Ss.

I see old Cadorna has lost another  60,000 men but is 

still calm.  For a Dago he's the most vivid memotionalist I

have ever heard of. I wonder when he'll begin to worry.

Old Birdie happened along this morn: and distributed a

lot of decorations,  The 4th Bde got the most.

Played the usual game in the evening and M. Belgique wasn't

quite so invincible but he's still playing with his profits.

4.11.17.  My batsman returned this morn: from a couple of days'

holiday which I granted him.  Thank Goodness he's back. I've

been like a hen before daylight.  Goodness knows how we'll

get on apres la guerre.

Gen. Brand has gone on 14 days' leave to Paris and Nice:

wouldn't be hard to take, would it?

He's a real thin edged old battle-axe but a grand old

fellow, and wears a C.M.G.  D.S.O. and S. Africa, also two 

wound stripes.  All his thoughts are with the boys.

Loafed all day as per schedule writing letters and 

perpetrating a sketch or town in that unhappy sketch book.

5.11.17.  This used to be Guy Fawkes day - oh that I were a 

chee-ild again!

There's a popular gag to the effect that the Bosche

chief of staff committed suicide after trying to follow the

moves of the 4th Divn. I can see the Italian front sticking 
out a yard for us, very nice too this weather.  I'll bet the

Bosche wouldn't get across the Tagliamento River - not without
a terrible argument anyhow.  M. Belgique has gone to St.

Omer, to execute several commissions,  inter alia he has to 

purchase a piano for the pierrots, so there might be a chance

of winning a bit tonight.

Enjoyed a hot bath at the Divnl. baths this afternoon,

mention of which is pardonable as a bath is more or less of an

event,

The/

 

46

The Baths were built by the Bde.  Pioneers.

Mention might also be made of the chaffeur who drove

the G.O.C. to Amiens yesterday - an Austn. by birth - and who

covered the 70 odd kilos: in 75 minutes.  The old man was 2 hrs

and a ¼ ahead of the game at the railway stn.

6.11.17. Must have got out of bed the wrong side this morn:

or p'raps it was the bad Port we had last night, anyhow I went

and bearded a Colonel and a couple of giddy Majors in their den

and drew attention to the disgraceful manner in which their

mules are packed away in some ill-ventilated stables.  Separated

ourselves from a lot is language too, but now its their look out

if they don't improve matters and their animals go over with

some contagious disease. That's the best of being only an

advisory officer.  Advice is like kissing - easy, and pleasant

to give, and whether you're right or wrong you can always say

I told you so.

One month today since I heard from home.

7.11.17. More vile weather, raining and cold, oh for a good old

Sydney Rd. Northerely - never mind the dust.  The worst of it

is - the worse the weather the more there is to do - the poor

animals catch it so.  One consolation is that it gets dark soon

after 4 and you can't work in the dark.

The football started today and our team met with

disaster at the hands of Percy Trotter and Co. (16th Bn). The

Machine Gunners beat the 14th Bn.

Mention of the Machine gunners naturally brings to 

mind a tale of the late Padre Lonigan - who was killed by a

shell. He was watching the stretchers come in and asking "are

you and R.C." "are you an R.C." and one gentleman replied "no I'm

a b--- machine gunner"!

M. Belgique has returned from St. Omer having

negotiated the piano, but has now to return for a couple of

fiddles and a clarionette.

I see Biplane has won the two Derbies - what ho, N.Z.!

8.11.17. The pow-wow with the 13th Batt. appears to have had

the desired effect and altogether things are greatly improved -

there's/

 

47

there's nothing like putting the wind up them a bit.

When I was out at the 7th A.S.C. this morn: I ran into

Bill Tyrce - being in the A.S.C. he puts in a considerable time

on the dumps and consequently bears all the latest information.
Inter alia he told me Mr. Blob is still in the pink - attached

to the R.E., a three star artist, and as game as a pebble, This 

was all good news to me as I haven't heard from Blob for over

6 weeks.

Bill had also seen lately both Roy Gibbons and Eustace

Searle - who is a 5th Div. T.O.

Had to give the cards a miss as I appear to have

another attack of that wretched fever, whatever it is.

9.11.17. Spent the day in bed, and had plenty of time to think

over the exigencies of the military situation, concluding that

war as a means of earning one's living is considerably over-rated

affair.  As a pastime its all in - you're either bored

to tears or scared stiff the whole time and there seems to be
no happy medium. Fortunately it has its amusing side, and to

those chappies in comfy jobs way back at Abbeville and Havre 
and London it must be a great joke.  Edwards brought my meals

up to me and needless to say they were rather cool on reaching

here, but that didn't matter as much as the onion did.  I think

the cook must come from Carrum.

10.11.17.  Feeling much netter, in spite of the worthy Doc's

efforts and the war news.

Capt. Fraser (S.A.) came in and  had a yarn this morn:

we were a cheery pair. He hasn't been able to speak for some

weeks - the effect of gas and has had to wear bandages and 

gloves on his hands since Gallipoli.

He informed me that we have another mov in front of 

us net week - moving down to Etaples probably - Goodness knows what for.

11.11.17. Another drawback to this game is the way one's pals

disappear. You come to a place, make good friends and then

you or they disappear.  Some join the Big Battn and some just

go, but in most cases its 100 to 1 agst: and no takers that you

won't see them on God's earth again.

M. Belgique is the latest, he has orders to leave

this Div. today and that probably means we are going to be

out/

 

48

out for a long spell or else are going to join another army,

maybe the first which isn't fighting in Belgium.

My late O.C. "Jimmie" called on me to-day and was

quite an oasis of news.

My improvement was not so marked to-day.  Evidently

the Doc's treatment is beginning to take effect.  By the way

he came over in the same convoy as we did - on board the

Ascanius.

12.11.17.  Quite a lovely day so I arose from my bed of suffering,

but the sun didn't have much gin^ger in it.

Lt. Col. Durrant, who is acting Brigadier was in to

lunch - another good sort and very young, like most of Battn.

Commanders.

He has earned my hearty approval in this manner.  He

observed two Tommy officers in London pull up some of our men

and reprimand them for not saluting, at a time when, as he puts 

it, English officers should have been saluting our men - the way

things were going in France.

When Col. Durrant happened along the two Tommies

studiously avoided him and stepped into a waiting taxi, but
the Col. ordered them out and made them salute and then told them

to carry on. Not bad for "one of those colonials" what!

13.11.17. They've been giving Fritz some hurry up for the last 

36 hours now  - we thought it was at Lens or near La Bassee,

but Hqrs. says its at Passchendale, so its some bombard

because its over 40 miles to the ridge direct. In spite of 

the 40 odd miles the windows in the church were all vibrating.

Went out for a ramble across country on that wise old

horse of mine - he seemed to know I wasn't quite up to scratch.
When I returned Bill dropped in to dee me and fortunately

I was lying down looking my illest. He advised me to

take things very easy and also bagged one of those Xmas cards

which I have awaited so long.  Others had fallen by the way 
also- leaving me 9 altogether, I had ordered 24.

went to the Pierrots in the evening and they were in

good form, espy. as the new piano was to hand.

14.11.17. What a lot of words have come into use with the war.

There's Sieda and Buchsheeh from Gallipoli , to mention only

two/

 

49

two. Here we have - lifting the Barrage, volplane, getting

the wind up, and hundreds of others, esp:y. technicalities

which have become common property.

Then there's 'coming a gutser", not very elegant

perhaps but everyone from a General to a W.A.A.C. comes a

gutser at times.

who ever heard of  "tanks', "rubber heels', and "whizz-bangs",

or who suspected "camouflage".

I don't know the definition of camouflage but its of

the same family as persiflage and it is the art of conveying

wrong ideas with the aid of a pot of paint and a bunch of

grass, just as a politician disguises the truth or launches 
an untruth with the aid of persiflage.

You will observe that the word is feminine and 

similarly the art is one belonging to the fairer sex. Just

as a lady endeavours to varnish over the unpleasing veracities

of life by investing the scene with a little pomp and ceremony

in the shape of powder and paint, so do we endeavour to disguise

the situation to the eye of the ardent and enterprising

bosch. As some on pertinently remarked - things are not

what they seem, or all  is not gold that glitters.  All this 

occurred after it was observed "that by a man's work shall he  be known."

If you ride past a cosy looking dwelling and you and

your horse are somewhat startled by it belching forth a 

round of 9.2s  -  that's camouflage, and you will find the walls

are canvas and the rest  paint - yes, camouflage.

If a grove of trees springs up in the night: if a

fallen tree emits a 15 in. shell, or a ruined cottage suddenly

rushes of with a toot-toot and a smell of petrol - more

camouflage.

Then some of us have a yellow streak to camouflage.

I take off my hat to a man that camouflages a yellow streak -

some camouflage.

Talking of camouflage reminds me of a poor fellow

since gone West who refused to be removed by a policeman from

his seat in the gutter on a grating remarking  - "well what
if it a grating, I'm a nutmeg"! Encore camouflage.

15.11.17.  rode over to Bomy to get oil from Bill and

find/