I believe that to-day is Sunday, judging from the sound of church bells in the direction of the second town, which lies four miles behind us. They were ringing “to church” while we were standing “to arms” in the dark with a good deal of rifle fire, though not much from the guns. A new lot of Germans, we think, have come opposite to us, and they are very hard shooters, always firing either machine guns or rifles. We are too busy working at our parapets now to go for them, but when they are finished I propose to wake them up well. I got in rather early last night about midnight. You know war has comic incidents as well as pathetic ones. I was finishing my way round the trenches in the dark, when Mr. Gartland, R.I.R., a very nice boy, attached himself to me, and said he had orders to go to a certain place and did not know the road, and might he come with me. Of course I said “Yes,” and we progressed till we came to a bridge, just a plank really over a wide stream. I crossed it quietly after whispering to him to be careful. Next moment I heard a frantic struggle and fall, and discovered him clutching on for dear life to the plank, having slipped on it. We managed to rescue him from a watery grave. I must tell you that all of this was out in the open within 200 yards of the German trenches, as we were crossing from company to company. My escort also fell at this bridge, but I caught him by the scruff of the neck, thereby preventing him getting into the water. I suppose Oakfield, my old home in Nova Scotia, taught me a bit about roughing it, so, elderly man that I am, I can keep fairly steady on my feet over this tricky ground. Well, having safely delivered Mr. G. at his place, I moved on, when we heard another fearful splash and then more floundering, and found that a corporal of my stretcher-bearers had fallen into a very deep drain full of water. Again my escort and myself started off to earn the Royal Humane Society’s medal. However, he managed to scramble out, wet through. As I say, the comic side alternates with the pathetic, for just then we had a poor boy shot through the head. In the dark we made out that it was his eye, but on getting him to hospital, where we could strike a light to work with, we saw that the bullet had gone through the nose, down the side of the face, and out through his neck. He is alive this morning, so it may be that he will turn the corner all right yet. I received your letter of January 20th last night, which is good. You ask me about block houses. They are only useful when screened from artillery fire. If we had one here, and the Germans could place it with glasses or with aeroplanes, they would blow it up at once. They were used largely in the South African War, because we had taken all the enemy’s guns from him. Sorry to hear of your cold. Hope the Kaiser has a very bad one with a sore throat!!…
I was sorry to see by your note in pencil yesterday that you were in bed with “Flu.” I hope you will not have it very badly, and that you are up again and all right by this time. There has been a good deal of trouble lately with German machine guns playing on our working parties at night. So yesterday afternoon I crept off unobserved, and had a conclave with my gunners. Then when they started with their guns I had all the adversary’s trenches mapped out, and dropped four shells on them. About an hour later they began again, but we squelched them in the same way; finally they stopped firing their horrid machines and remained quiet; not for long, however, for they next turned their heavy guns on us in the dark with the high explosive shell. The first burst about 100 yds. away, and the second nearer, whilst the third burst alongside the house. I wailed, expecting one in the ruins, but they fired no more, thank heavens! The last scattered everything all over the house, bricks, tiles, etc. I was curled up in a blanket at that hour ready to go over the whole of the trenches, having arranged to start between three and four o’clock this morning. I got round all right with, if anything, fewer bullets than usual flying about. A message has just been sent to us that an attack is expected on our right, so we are now waiting to see whether this comes to anything or not. The day is particularly dark, though so far no rain or snow. It is quite black enough for the latter, but not, perhaps, sufficiently cold. I am rather sleepy at present, and I hate getting up early. To-night we go into support, which means that some of our companies, now 600 yds. from the enemy, will be in a position farther back, but this threatened attack may make a difference. Another regiment, the Royal Berkshires, are alongside of us, and we always go into the trenches and come out together. The Colonel is senior to me, and is commanding the Brigade in the General’s absence, so the next senior takes his regiment. The latter was knocked over by a shot two days ago. He only broke his hip, and it is expected to come right in due course. Do you remember Miss Arundel’s nephew, Capt. Wickham, of the 7th Fusiliers, who went out with me to India, half-brother to Sir Henry Tichborne, I believe? I saw three days ago that he had died of wounds; so they must have brought him home from India. I am sorry; he and I had many pleasant chats together on board ship. Would you look in the upper left-hand drawer in my dressing-room. You will find some stand-up single collars there with five buttonholes in them. Please roll one up flat, and send it across in a letter or with soap parcel. They go in collar of uniform jacket, and as this sort of collar has gone out, I am wearing mine and throwing them away when done.
I am very sorry that you have been obliged to send for the doctor. “Flu” makes one feel a worm, so take care of yourself. I do not fancy you need fear the air raids; keep to the country, it is safer than town. They have not enough explosives on their cars to do all the damage they would like in London, let alone the remainder of England. The trip to Norfolk was only a trial one, I think. It has turned very cold here now, and we cannot get a fire in this place. You see, the inhabitants are coming back, and we do not like to steal their wood, for it would cause unpleasantness, whilst we have great difficulty in getting any coal, so we are between the devil and the deep sea! The Germans managed to kill one man yesterday with their shelling. I mean one civilian, of course; soldiers do not count. I suppose we are fair targets. I have been very lucky, though, with my Batt., on the whole, for I have only had a quarter of the casualties of my neighbour the two last times, or even less. Of course, it is just luck, but I take every precaution, as you know, and use my guns on their machine guns in, I hope, a judicious manner, giving the gunners little maps of where we have spotted them along all our long front; and so we crush the scamps. They are a venomous crew. They marked a bridge that we cross over a ditch, consisting of two planks and a hand-rail, and they turned their Maxims on to that. A couple of men were there, and they lay down on the bridge whilst the Maxim fired over their heads, cut the hand-rail clean away, and just missed them. We got off quite well from the trenches last night, as the enemy had a great doing down with us that afternoon. The threatened attack on our right either never came off or was also beaten off; let us hope the latter. So dear old Admiral Dennistoun has gone. At 78 one must expect to go to Heaven shortly, but still one’s friends will be sorry, no doubt, and Hal loses his godfather. I did not know him very well myself, but I am sorry because you were fond of him. I wonder if it is about to settle in for cold weather in these parts. If so, we shall have attacks across the frozen ground. Whilst it was wet the Germans could not very well get at us without giving plenty of notice, but now they will be able to work their way quietly across the hard earth. However, it cuts in another way, for they are not too well clothed and they will feel this severe weather terribly. It is horrible always to have to hope that many Germans will be killed. On the whole, it is more charitable to pray, I think, that the heart of the German nation may be turned to the right course. I fancy that the people are a sober, steady race, but they have been led astray by their warlike leaders. Again, who would imagine that the light French character (speaking generally as a nation) really covers a hard-working set of prosperous farmers like these people evidently are. Well, I hope you will be out of bed when this reaches you. I have not been able to write to the children lately, for there has been much to do and think about. Give them my love; thank your mother for the partridges so kindly sent, and can you let me have some more boxes of Bryant and May’s matches? About 1,000; I fancy our men would be glad of them now. You will be able to find out through Bryant and May’s how to get them across. The price is 21s., but I think they send them by the M.F.O., Southampton. Perhaps the best way would be to despatch the first half to me by post and the other lot by M.F.O., as the latter would arrive a month later when required again….