Thomas James Richards, Diaries, Transcript Vol. 4, 9 November 1916 - 31 May 1918 - Part 4

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me that the military authorities, for installing such water
heaters, display deplorable weak knowledge. They are in no
way satisfactory; they burn up quantities of coal in the four
fires and then the water is all at the one temperature and no
cold water is obtainable to mix with it and to break it down,
so much so that steam is often flying from the shower and the
men have to stand back and wait until it is run off and cools
down; there is no means of regulating the thing at all. A
most unsatisfactory and wasteful business and the British are
still erecting this type of concern.
November 30th.  Thursday.
Nothing that I can recall (Saturday Dec. 2nd) is
worthy of note today, as I don't remember going away from the
camp. I sometimes sit down to write but it is cold and to
keep the fire alight (coal fire in an oil drum brazier) seems
to occupy most of my time and attention. I try to get it
burning brightly and free from smoke then take it inside the
low shack but it does not last long and-in putting more coal
on there is the dense black smoke again. The roof of the
place, canvas, is now thickly coated with soot, in fact everything
is black, clothes, hat and my neck always so, even
immediately after washing same.
Harry Dingle came into Camp today and he and myself
are to join up with the 1st Battalion tomorrow.
December 1st.  Friday.     Joined up 1st Battalion.
After packing up and finding that there was no train
going to Ailly we hung on expecting the Battalion to march into
Ribemont this afternoon, sure enough at dusk they came along,
we met Lieut. Summerset, got billets and moved over in the
night time. At night the Adjutant, Mr. Edgerly was very good
and considerate, we met a whole lot of officers and were made
at ease. Lieut. Wells, Q.M. was obliging and took an order
for all manner and kinds of clothes and equipment to be delivered
 

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in about 8 days time. I have two stars from Wallace Neve,
I want two more for my top coat. Boots have got me down
just now I badly want a good strong pair.
December 2nd.  Saturday.
The Colonel of the Battalion is away. The Major
this morning was all right and has allotted A Company to my
services while Dingle goes into B Company. Both Companies
are at Manety Woods, we will join them this afternoon.
The past two days have been exceptionally frosty,
never at any time of the day did a thaw set in.
10 p.m. I have joined up A Company 1st Battalion, Capt.
Jackson in command. I have been in the tent with Lieut.
Graham and 2nd Lieut. Blake for tea and until now. I am in
a tent by myself Dingle having gone 72 miles further along
to B Company.
December 3rd.  Sunday.
Work has been going on all day in the railway where
my A Company of about 118 men are doing railway work. There
is really nothing to do, no drilling, just walk around a little
and see that all is going along all right. I sometimes feel
that my position is not a just one, coming as I do out of a
Field Ambulance to ride over the top of long suffering infantry
men who I think should receive the promotions. Anyhow, I'm
here and must fight down the feeling that the fellows must hold
against me. That is one reason why I wish we were going into
the firing line now so as to even up matters with them.
The day has been dismally cold and frosty, but the
freezing up of the roads gives us a chance to walk triumphantly
over the mud without wetting our boots and that's something to
be proud of after what we have suffered from wet feet etc.
December 4th.  Monday.
It was my turn this morning to go down at 7.40 o'clock
and see the parade off to the railway work nearby. I certainly
did feel a little strange but at the same time there was no
 

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orders to give and nothing to say to the men. The parade
numbered only 64 men.
To-day Lieut. Blake, a base man from the commencement
of the war up to the present time, was sent away over to
'B' Company. He is a little self-important man with big
ideas regarding his ability in the theatrical world and misses
nothing in the way of opportunities to talk about his sweetheart,
an English girl, as if he was the inventor of love and its sole
exploiter. Another pet trouble is his motor chatter. Anyhow,
I kept him talking on these subjects until he must have about
run himself dry; this at any rate was my intention so that I
could get rest and swing him around on to military matters which
I am so keen to learn something about. He is gone now, I'm
glad too, as I feel certain he could do nothing better or higher
in this world than talk about himself. Harry Dingle has him
now and I doubt if he will have the patients to tolerate him as
I did.
Lieut. Walker, a N.S.W. Bank inspector (who knows
Ch. Towers and the North very well) and Ted Sparkes are here
now so that I expect to get along a whole lot better.
The sun shone to-day, but it only had the effect of
thawing the ground and making it muddy.
December 5th.  Tuesday.
Letters from Dad speaking jolly well of things in
Africa. He is better now than for many months.
There is a whole lot of mud about to-day on account
of the weather not being so frosty. I am sorry as I love
walking on the hard frozen mud, it kind of gives one a feeling
of conquest, triumph over the bally muck and slush. Yes, it's
jolly fine to walk right over the top of it with unsoiled boots
after what I have suffered. I have a huge chilblain on my toe
now, it doesn't seem to improve at all. The Baths nearby are
fine and large parties of men are there all day long. They get
a clean change of underwear and plenty of hot water.
 

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December 6th.  Wednesday.
I saw the parade away this morning, and had a few
words with the men on shaving each day, having their hair cut
and keeping themselves generally tidy. It is my first lecture
to them. All day long things have been very easy indeed, a
huge loaf in fact.
To-night I censored a whole lot of letters, a rather
remarkable thing after seeing that only a few days ago I had to
scramble round to get my own correspondence censored. Wall
Neve was jolly good though and never troubled to look at my
stuff, always taking my word for it.
The two Companies 'C' and 'D' passed by to-day for
Mammetze. It seems that we don’t go into the line at all this
time. I am sorry if it is to be so as I want to show my frame
up over that parapet with the rest of them and let them see that
I've got the courage. It’s remarkable how our Australians
stick to their officers when they have proved their gameness.
They hold off until they see a man properly tested and then
they love him, but if he fails them he is right out wide in
their estimation.
December 7th.  Thursday.
Last week I was worrying how to get my letters
signed for a clearance through the censor. To-day I have the
privilege of passing these letters for other people in their
dozens. It is hardly the thing in a reasonable manner, to
open and read another chap's correspondence but I am doing it.
I don't usually take notice of anything but names of Battalions
and towns, but to-night a Xmas Card with a torn off bit of
writing roused my curiosity. I found that the soldier's
Mother had written him expressing her appreciation of the
angel "who nursed her son while in the Hospital and brought
him out safe and well." And the lovely sentiment which those
few words in conjunction with the card must convey to that nurse
will be quite a thrill for her, and God knows our Nurses deserve
 

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all, even though they be "human" in their leisure hours.
Capt. Moffett of 'B' Company is a Queenslander,
friendly with Eva McDonald and many of the Cloncurry folk
I know. Lieut. Walker, 'A' Company commander is a Bank
of N.S.Wales inspector and knows the North very well.
Our mess is not an elaborate one. The officers sleep in
the hut which we use as a mess while I sleep in a bell tent
nearby. These chilblains are awfully strange things, the
moment my foots gets near a fire it swells and aches like a
troublesome tooth. In bed at night it is so cold I am
obliged to put socks on. Before morning the chilblains
commence to burn and I have to take the socks off.
December 8th. Friday.
By a London paper, yesterday's date, I learn that
the Asquith Government are pushed from power. This pleases
me immensely and if Lloyd George gets his way and forms up a
war council of some 10 men to control I will begin to think
that after two long years of "wait and see", "drift hapless'
like kind of policy, we at last are making an effort to win
the war.
'Tis sad to read from day to day of Roumania's downfall
and defeat. It seems that nothing can save Roumania now.
Poor Roumania, after waiting so long for a desirable opportunity
to take part in the war, falls like wheat before the harvester.
I fear that someone has let Roumania down badly. The Allies
show at least poor, cruel judgment in allowing Roumania to come
into the war if they would not guarantee her a fighting chance.
It's a terrible mess right enough. It means that the booty
both material and labour, will be of assistance to the Central
Powers and thereby prolong the war another ⅓rd.
At 3 p.m. a message came through for me to report at
Battalion Headquarters, Mametz at once with 11 men. By 6 o'clock
after having tea with Capt. Jackson we walked the 6 kilos to
Mametz and reported in by 7.35 p.m. The roads were wet and
 

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muddy but the moonlight was splendid although it had the
effect of showing up the shell riddled dead and twisted
trees like dim and grim skeletons.
I camped with Major Woodford, M.O. Kirkwood and
Adjutant Booths.
December 9th.  Saturday.
A good night's sleep and I suppose I must be thankful
or rather, feel it a kind of honour to get a doze down
on the floor in Battalion Headquarters. There were bunks
for nobody, not even chairs to sit upon but the half round
huts were good and comfortable and there are hundreds of them
about, but there is deep and nasty mud everywhere, to break
the comfort of the huts as you can’t step outside. Our
breakfast was brought into the bedroom at 8.45 and sitting
on the floor in our positions we ate it.
I find that I have to report into the lst Division
Headquarters and go with a party of 21 men and 3 N.C.O's up
to the line to put down some dugouts. I think they are to
be deep and large ones like the German's. This job will be
of some service to me as I should do the work all right, and
they say I am jolly lucky to get into touch with the Division
already. However, the weather is wet and cold and slimy and
my zone is certain to be under heavy shell fire and I will not
then experience the life of a man in the front fire trenches even
though my work takes one into the trenches.
An inquiry into men reported missing is being held in
the front half of the room, and one man they are calling for
evidence about is P.T. Richards A.E. On hearing this name
naturally I started up.
I met Mick Roche yesterday. He is very well!!
I am sleeping in a room with the other Company officers
to-night.
 

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December 10th.  Sunday.     Mametz.
Nothing for me to do to-day so I asked Lieut.
Wall for a horse and the Colonel's permission and rode to
Buere where I failed to get my "gum-boots". Atkin was
wearing them, and showed great meanness under the 
circumstances. I ordered the boots but had not paid for them.
I enjoyed the ride although the road was sloppy.
On going back I passed as fine a looking party of men as ever
I have seen. I found they were Scots Guards. They looked
wonderfully neat and clean and kept their time and distances
when marching. It was a treat to see such a fine physical
set of men but it hurt me to see them going towards the front
line.
I learn to-night that I leave at 9 a.m. for Bazentin
House with 25 men to-morrow.
Letters to hand from Cole, Miller, Hunter, Mabel Hynes.
December 11th.  Monday.
After a little delay over two Pioneers who had not
been warned I was 15 minutes late in moving off with my party
of 24 men and joining up with the 2nd and 4th Battalion parties.
The road was very mucky and slushy all the way along past
Montaban into Bazentin. We put up at what is called the
Sugar Mill but why I don't know as there is nothing about to
warrant the name. Anyhow, it is, or was, a big building very
much battered about and the only building to be seen in Bazentin
village. Instead of walking into the shell shattered building
and taking possession of the place and the maze of German dugouts
that go with it, we found the 11th Battalion in possession,
so now the trouble is going to be to get the men out and to
instal our own men. In our party are three officers, including
myself. Lieut. Issacs is in charge. The other officer is a
one star man named Waller. They both seem to be good fellows.
 

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The moment one moves towards the firing line the
worse, and still worse the roads become, and the more
numerous become the road cleaning parties. It would be
very humorous if it were not so damnable cruel to see these
sun tanned men from the home of bright sunny weather, struggling
with scoops and brooms to bale, or drain the roads, and coughing
bitterly.
December 12th.  Tuesday.
Being our first morning on the job it was decided
that I go down with the limber and draw the rations and arrange
for future drawing. Instead of the driver waking me at 6.30 a.m.
I had to get up and wake him. It was raining at this time but
hefore we got the horses harnessed up the rain turned to big
flakes of snow. As we bumped along that corduroy road on the
springless jumping limber the biting wind and stinging snow blew
straight down the road into our cases, stinging severely. There
seemed no way of avoiding punishment, the big flakes would land
on the corner of the eye, whenever one chanced to peep out, and
break filling the eye itself with snow and blinding it. Those
snow flakes did not stop at anything short of beating right up
under the broad brim of my hat and also did their best to fill
up the collar, or rather the gap between the collar of my coat
and the neck causing me to coil up still more and more thereby
giving the jolting and bounding vehicle greater scope in the
execution of its gymnastic evolutions. It was only a distance
of 1½ miles and took us, perhaps, only 30 minutes to do the
journey, but it seemed hours and during which time the whole
country became totally clean white and transformed the desolate
aspect of this battered country to one of much charm when
viewed from the calm shelter of the A.S.C. dump. The gaunt
skeletons of trees that stood up boldly in the disfigurement
of the skyline were now wrapped in a mantle of pure whiteness,
and lent attractiveness of a weird and unaccountable nature to
the strange scene.
 

No. 18
Dec.13th, 1916
Jan. 26th, 1917
With Mining Platoon.
Amiens,  Godebert, Charles Bar.
 

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The homeward journey, after getting the rations
which necessitated a whole lot of bother as nobody knew
anything about a 1lst Brigade Mining Company, was not so bad
as the wind was then behind us, and what is more, it had
stopped snowing, and our wet footed, and much covered up
Australians were out cleaning up the road and draining off
the water.
It continued to rain, sleet and snow lightly in
turns all day long. Fortunately we had no tools to start
work with so remained in a cellar with a smoky fire for the
day.
We succeeded to-day in turning the 11th Battalion
out and putting our own men into the underground passages of
the connected dugouts and also into the cellars of the
building. These 11th Battalion people simply bustled their
way into this place. They were not sent here or had any
authority to be here but in typical Australian style they
saw the chance of a decent place to settle down in and they
just grabbed and bluffed!!
December 13th. Wednesday,
This book is being commenced under remarkable
different circumstances to the other dozen or so diaries I
have already completed. As an officer in His Majesty's army
I will not take the liberty of writing in the same unrestrained
manner, maybe I will not be able, or rather, have occasion to
do so as my position is now so changed. I do not wander about
in the same leisurely way or have the opportunity of getting
into casual conversation with all and sundry, and again my
present company will probably see things from an entirely
different stand point from the rankers, but so far, in this
respect I have not noticed any great difference. Officers
have their petty grievances and troubles as does the privates,
and many of them are working under the same imaginary "drops".