Diary transcript of Reginald Harriman Heywood, 1918-1919 - Part 8

should be a thing of the past. Brownie went away to-day

and as little Doc. is accompanying him as far as Brussels.
(on 10 day's leave) I may be said to be in extremis which

is the condition one is in while his right and left hand men both go.
15.2.19.  Had another very full day, travelling round the district

to view the result of yesterday's inoculations (some 20 odd

miles ride) and then making final arrangements for and
inspecting the draft of 200 ''Ys'' to proceed to Havre via
Charleroi tomorrow, and which concentrated in Florennes to-day.
On Wednesday next we are holding a sale in Florennes - 100
lots being on offer. Don't know who the "Notaire" is but
would like his job as he rakes in 9% of the proceeds. If he
sells the 100 lots his cheque should be about £350 for the
day.
We had a funeral in our village to-day and there was
some style about it. For demonstrativeness the Belgiques
beat the Irish, and that's saying a lot. I couldn't help
thinking of the old adage - "blessed is he on whose coffin
the rain falls" - any one would have to be dead stiff not to
have a rainy day for his funeral in this part of the world,
but personally I can't see anything very blessed about any
kind of material falling on one's coffin.
16.2.19.  Being Sunday, slowed up to "dead slow", and found my way
up to my friend M. Paulus Collinet's - he is the local
butcher but is also a tonsorialist of considerable note and
has no difficulty in harvesting the remains of my now almost
snowy white hair.
I have just waded thro' the speeches uttered by H.M. the
King and Lloyd George at the opening of Parliament the other
day. Both were singularly colourless and vague but just I
expect what we have been led to look for,from a Government
of vested interests. It is a programme of compromise,
generalities and good intent.
No mention of the Irish question, conscription, the
nationalisation of railways - in fact no mention of anything
of much importance or likely to be a source of grave contention.
On the grave question of industrial unrest - disquieting
silence, Bolshevism - whatever that is was loudly denounced -
thunders of applause; reference was made to indemnities from
Germany - barrage of acclamation; somebody thought of a
"League/
 

"League of Nations" - shrieks of silence; and mention of
reconstruction, a healthier happier stronger England was
received with - apathy! Perusal of these oratorical concoctions
produces an inevitable realization of the great figures
that are absent, and the equally inevitable consciousness of
the tiny figures that are present - a collection of men of whom
the great majority instructively applauded every selfish and
material sentiment, and with whom any appeal to constructive
ideals of which so much was said at election time would be
allowed to pass amidst disapproving silence.
The worst of it is, the opposition appears even less
fitted to supply the deficiencies. Gee! that's a lengthy
effort from me isn't it?
17.2.19.  Don't know what his game is, but Mr. Wilson seems annoyed
about something - suppose he will slap someone with a tram ticket
or something like that. He says that if Fritz doesn't agree to
the terms of the Peace Conference hostilities will be forthwith
resumed.
"John Bull" - the official optimist of the British Empire
and the world's most stately monument of blatant conceit is
also responsible for a happy remark. He says if the occasion
arise there isn't a man but would gladly rush back to the
Colours.
I know of one man who would rush back to the colours
but they'd have to be in a certain direction - and by the time
he reached the coast he'd be going that fast he'd be able to
jump the channel.
18.2.19.  Joined Jimmie at Florennes and endeavoured to make
arrangements for this sale on the 20th but I can't get over
admiring this job of M. le Notaire's £350 for a day's sport is
worth considering, especially when a wretched Vet. Officer for
the modest remuneration of 26/- and keep does all the work.
Think I'll become more naturalised and get a notaire's job.
That and M. David Legait fully occupied my day. Dave
has succeeded in getting La grippe in its most virulent form,
and with a temperature of 104°. I thought it wouldn't be a
bad idea if I got Col. James to send an ambulance for him
and get him to the hospital. Unfortunately Madame Dave
has opinions of her own, and apparently wishes him to die
at home.
The/
 

The position is as follows. Dave has a particular
spasm and either raves or collapses - at either of which
Madame appeals to me. I rush in, look wise and suggest the
ambulance whereon Mrs. Dave and Mlle. put up a barrage of
wails and tears. Meanwhile Dave shows signs of reviving -
or perhaps the boys succeed in getting him back to bed and
the situation clears - I ask you!
To-night we've got a patrol out looking for a civvie,
M. Le Docteur.
[[?]]9.2.19.  David has revived somewhat, so Madame hasn't got her
wish, and I expect his recovery may be put down to the lack
of success in finding a civvy doctor - tho' the rum and
asperin (employed symptomatically) fired in to the old chap
may have had something to do with it.
Jimmie and I put in the day cataloguing branding and
parading the various lots to go up for sale tomorrow.
Prospective buyers were there in force and though they were
the most vaudeville looking lot that ever wore snaffles on
their watchchains - there is apparently something of similarity
amongst horse-dealers all the world over. The horses
might go well but it looks as tho' the Belgs. won't have the
mules on at any price. Matter of fact there is every reason
why they should go in for mules and one of these which should
appeal to the thrifty Belg. is that the poor old donk at a
pinch can be fed on waste paper and spare parts.
[[?]]2.19. Old Dave was thrashing about in the mud and his shirt
sleeves this morning so must be considered as definitely
cured, but he's still pretty weak.
Fortunately we had a fine day for the sale - well it
didn't rain - and for rejects the prads sold pretty well,
but the "notaire" must have got a bit of a shock when he
found they'd reduced his cut to only 6½%.
However, we got rid of 75 lots for 97,000 francs, so
I suppose it paid his expenses which were nil alright.
Anyway he gave us two very fair spreads and when he dived
down south in the evening again for a second issue of Pol.
Roger, I began to feel very annoyed that any government,
however diligent in the interests of ourselves, should have
been/
 

been so usurious as to deprive him of that odd 2½% - in fact
I came away with the impression that M. le Notaire was "un
vieux haricot sans price."
As anticipated the locals were were shy of the donks but
when a horse came into the ring proved themselves as poor
judges of horseflesh as their somewhat unusual and pantomimic
apparel would lead one to expect.
21.2.19.  To-day has been one of the calms that follow the
storm - nothing more serious to do than sit on the kitchen
table and listen to thrilling episodes connected with the
gentlemanly German's occupation and his first appearance here
"Partout flamme, partout famme, mon dieu, mon dieu, mon dieu"
repeat that at about 13 to the furlong gesticulating wildly
and the picture's yours.
It would be funny if it weren't so tragic.
12.2.19.  Jimmie paid one of his celebrated flying visits and

said something about moving us to Nalinnes-Charleroi way, but 
personally if I've got to die of ennui I'd just as soon do 
it here without the bother of another move, and besides I've 
taken quite a fancy to the cemetery here, while Nalinnes is 
still in the manure belt.

The two misguided little maidens here have apparently 
made a staunch R.C. of men, at all events they informed me 
that Protestants are "pas bons" and performed some extraordinary 
rites over my mildly protesting self in which I 
came in for a very fair issue of very cold water.

However, they could gladly make anything of me from a 
nihilist on a war footing to be Hon. Sec. of the S.P.C.A. 
as long as it would provide a little excitement. I feel 
in one of my brilliant moods tonight but can't write any more 
as Henriette has just asked me to partake of une tasse de 
cafe, and an extraordinary concoction of which they've been 
busily pounding since early morning.

I won't attempt to name for fear susceptible souls 
might imagine I'm indulging in a mild form of blasphemy - that 
will come later I suppose with the indigestion.

23.2.19. As you see, I've survived the gollops or whatever 
they/

they were and in fact I had a second issue brought up to me 
for breakfast. Inordinate activity amongst the church bells
and the ladies discarding their clogs etc. in favour of 
apparel to meet the occasion forced home on me the fact that 
it must have been Sunday.

Accordingly I didn't 't hurry out of bed, and you see how 
an unkind fate rewarded my slothfulness.

I sidestepped a pressing invitation to go to mass, mainly 
because I can't understand people who rush to church on 
Sunday and live in the utmost filth and squalor for the 
remainder of the week - the sort of people who build a shrine 
on top of a manure heap. I couldn't help wondering at the 
strange fancy of an apparently wealthy farmer the other day. 
Judging by his farm yard he's evidently a power in the land, 
and for filth and total absence of hygiene it would be hard 
to beat. I bet you'd find more bunches of microbic cultures 
there than you would in a Red Cross Ambulance Wagon. If you 
could fight your way thro' the fowls, pigs, cows, dogs and 
other inmates, and thro' the agglomeration of manure heaps 
and other bric-a-brac, you'd find in the middle a stately 
fish pond and fountain ornamented with saints angels and 
other important personages. Incongruous, eh?

Religious arguments are always different aren't they? 
but have you ever been in an argument where one side had 
to convey his impressions by means of a series of facial 
contortions and gymnastic efforts.
[[?]]4.2.19. Permedium of the Sunbeam. I hit Dinant at 10 a.m. this 
morning and spent the day in the throes of another horse sale. 
The Belgiques coughed up alright but the auctioneer was very 
slow and we only got rid of 68 lots which realized about 
80,000 fr. The natives always work on a cash up basis and 
its good to see them diving down South for their wads - I 
just wait long enough to see the size of the roll and then 
buzz off to attach the Z. (sold) firebrand. Prices seem 
absurdly high to our way of thinking and one 14 yr old mare 
blind in one eye brought 3100 fr. but its a safe bet the 
locals wouldn't come to light if the animals weren't worth 
the money to them.

Jimmie and I just waited till it was too dark to sell 
any more and then set out for Charleroi (50 miles) to load

350 "Y" class tomorrow bound for Calais and Blighty. With 
admirable/

admirable fore-thought Jimmie had booked a room at the Grand 
Hotel de L'Europe, which as I've been before is a very chic 
place. We've been here only a few hours, but we've had 3 
meals already - mostly oysters and bottled goods, and now 
Jimmie is investigating the possibilities of supper. For 
mine, I'm going to get into the swellest bed I've seen 
before he gets back.

[[?]]5.2.19. Spent most of the day hanging round the Charleroi siding 
tho' we did make a run up to the Charleroi Advanced Vet. 
Hospital and made several minor attacks on the oysters and 
stout. Charleroi is rather a giddy place. Eventually got 
the train loaded about 2 p.m. and returned to Corenne. On 
the way we tried to find a decent place for the Mobile at 
Somzee but being unsuccessful decided to remain here and go 
down by car to mullein the rest of the 12th Bde. (old Tas. 
being away in Italy or Switzerland or somewhere).

26.2.19. Re the demob. scheme, about the only thing I haven't sent 
away is men, but the ever faithful Darkey and Vance are held 
in readiness and I have supplied in annexures proformas 
agenda and indices, every kind of information short of birth 
marks on the next of kin that there is. The horses are going 
on fine style tho' and that the men aren't going I believe is 
due solely to the dopey imbeciles in England who are holding 
up railways and shipping.

To-day I was delighted to receive instructions to the 
effect that the section is to be divided into two cadres. A. 
and B. Don't know what a cadre is, but it sounds something 
between a military pulpit pounder and a safety catch - something 
full of hope and which won't go off. It doesn't 
matter what happens to cadre A. but B. will consist of 
the O.C. and batmen (1). If you pass this way some time
hence you may see by the roadside a little old man sitting on 
a large pile of papers and accompanied by an elderly but 
faithful attendant and a very old monkey. He will probably 
be stamping on an out of date imprest account a strange 
device - O.C. 4th Aust. Mobile Vet. Section A.I.F.

If you ask him what he did in the great war he will 
answer proudly and with the light of battle in his old eyes 
I was in the world's champion fighting division, but I came 
a thud. I was in cadre B.

You/

You will leave him still absently waiting for the final 
instructions "Annexure Z" Officers Commanding, and how to 
demobilize themselves.

[[?]].2.19. Rode over to Chaumont, where the 12th Fld. Coy. have 
amalgamated with the 4th Engineers and Mac and I must 
put up a malleining record - 27 animals in 7 minutes. Mac

seems to have some sort of magnetism in that ear hole of his.

Then I proceeded to Florennes lunched with the 4th Fld. 
Ambulance and caught an ambulance to Somzee where I finished 
off old Tas's job by malleining the rest of the 12th Bde. 
Returned by the ambulance dined at the 4th Fld. and played 
bridge in the evening with Sid. Crawcour (Capt) of the M.W.S.W. 
fame. I lost 4 francs. and as I had to walk home in pouring 
rain felt like a real punter.

Crawcour is still of the same retiring disposition - 
always about as prominent as the pelmanism ads, in the papers.

[[?]].2.19.  A bit of a snowfall during the night and which slowly 
melted during the morning left the roads, bad before, in a 
terrible state for my second tour round Chaumont and Somzee 
but I was dressed for the part in gum boots and Darkey's old 
oiler (which Jo. Claydon pinched from the Woodbines at 
Beaucourt).

I caught the ambulance alright and finished off the job at 
Somzee, but the car broke down between Somzee and Charleroi so 
I had to while away an hour playing three handed auction with 
McGee and his assistant. Arrived at Florennes I found Mac 
waiting with "Brownie" so fled back to Corenne not being able 
to risk losing another four francs with Crawcour and after 
having made arrangements with Geoff Loveridge about another 
draft of 150 "Ys" for Blighty tomorrow. This latter was on 
Jimmie's behalf - he is on a two days' sale at Givet and has 
also ordered me to take the initial proceedings for another 
sale of 200 at Florennes on the 3rd and 4th insts.

[[?]].19. Am suffering from acute fedupishness this evening. As 
ordered I proceeded to Florennes to inspect the animals for 
sale/

sale, and found no one in charge, no papers and few animals. 
Under the circumstances I thought I'd be better off at home, so 
returned and spent the evening quietly thinking about Q. 
branch. In case of incriminating myself tho' I won't say 
any more.

[[?]]3.19. Sunday - the day when most people's gluttony runs away 
with their gumption, and for many of us a day of general 
lethargy, no little bad temper and devastating boredom. We do 
no manner of work and we call it rest, tho' we know it is the 
hardest day's work we do in a week. Yet we make no attempt

to change our habits which have hypnotised us. Why? and on the 
other hand why not? We don't want Jazz bands, but I don't think 
Sunday was intended to bore us into a hypocritical feeling of 
being virtuous.

Anyway this doesn't apply to Smithy and me this Sunday. We 
spent the day up to our hocks in mud, branding and cataloguing 
200 horses and mules for the sale tomorrow. Jimmie didn't put 
in an appearance, probably on account of a bon soiree at the 
Div. Train last night.

[[?]].3.19. In spite of steady and heavy rain we managed to get rid of 
83 lots for 72,000 odd francs. My job was as usual handing 
over and branding also as usual involving me in numerous arguments, 
that is to say the purchaser heumming and hah-ing and 
making numerous speeches and I minor interjections.

I flatter myself tho' that my interjections carry some 
weight, and I endeavour to explain that nothing is any good to 
me bar the receipt. 
M. le Notaire was in his best entertaining mood with three 
wines at lunch so it wasn't such a bad day.

Since we've been selling the mules the roads are becoming 
littered with transport reminiscent of the war in its palmy days.

4.3.19.  In continued rain we carried on with the sale at Florennes 
but the weather didn't spoil the prices altogether. For the 
two days we placed 143 lots at a total of nearly 125,000 fr. 
an average of about 900 fr.

As usual we gathered at the residence of M. Paul Thibaut 
for luncheon, and the only fly in the ointment was Col. Matson, 
with his usual stock of faux pas. He always reminds me of a fly 
in a cup of hot tea - attracts considerable attention and comment 

but/

but doesn't enjoy it.

Its funny how however much you dislike a person you 
come to feel sorry for him sooner or later. There was the 

S.M.O. on the Benalla - killed in action after a few days up 
at the line, and to-day when the said Colonel lost himself 
amidst a bewildering array of glasses and cutlery I felt 
quite sorry for him even.

[[?]]/19. I hope this will be the last volume - I always do when I 
start a new one. If anyone ever struggles through his dairy 
I wonder what he'll be hoping by this time.
Thought I might have a day off to print some photos but 
came a thud as I had to proceed to Charleroi to see that draft 
of Loveridges loaded for Havre. However, there was no sun and 
Dury and I siezed the opportunity to mop up a couple of dozen 
oysters as I might have been worse off in spite of the awful 
condition of the roads. Since the thaw, three weeks ago now, 
the roads have been deplorable and the Fritz prisoners they've 
got working only seem to make them worse.

I know you'll say I have spelt sieze wrongly. I always do, 
but I like to be original.

We've got another sale on al Dinant to-morrow.

[[?]]/19  Still raining- it has rained now for the best part of 3 
weeks. What a country, what a clime. So much so that I thought 
the time had arrived for me to send in an early repatriation 
form for myself on educational grounds.

In the afternoon and in the rain I went over to Florennes 
to examine another draft proceeding to Charleroi, Havre and 
Blightly in charge of Lieut. Sinclair (M.G.Bn.)

Examine them - the poor brutes will nearly poke their tongues 
out when you go near them.

By this time Jimmie had had a special brain wave and the car 
arrived to take me into Dinant - don't know what for as everyone 
seemed more or less boozed. We've got some D.A.P.M. in this 
Division. Just as we had started dinner at B mess Jarvie came 
in and played billiards with all our wine glasses and then when 
we'd disarmed him gave us a garbled account of his being made 
A.P.M. Constantinople and locking up the P.M. from C.H.Q. in 
his guard room. Rather a wild night.

[[?]]19. Returned to Corenne and then on to Florennes to make 
arrangements with Col James about moving. We are to occupy 
the same village as the 4th Fld. Amb.,Thy-le-Baudin, whatever 
you like to call that. Col James was away so went and got movement 
orders from Major Tovell.

By the way my application came back from "Demobaust" with 
the following entry. Capt Heywood being an under-graduate can 
proceed forthwith to England - do you approve? Suppose I can't 
get away just yet tho.

I see the expert Commission are still wondering how much 
can Germany pay. Why don't they call the figure first and 
wonder after. Can he pay? Could Henry Ford afford a week end 
at Mordialloc or could Charlie Chaplin shout himself a packet 
of Woodbines? Can he pay?