To his mother Charlotte Capell
Wednesday, Oct 11 [1915]
[?]
Dearest Mother:
A word from among the ruins. Quite a large party of us here; but not, I believe, for long. We should be quite all right, if it weren't for a certain sergeant. Ah, cursed fate that I should be in the power of so unutterably common, brutish a creature!..
We are just beyond the civilised (inhabited) zone, but not in the most desperate sort of ruins. The whole place is shaking at this moment with the bombardment. I will tell you more about things later. This little note is simply to tell you that I am well & cheerful. By the way, did you see that George Monteith (Isa & Frank will know whom I mean, - my friend of St George's Road days) - has been killed? A bright soul...
A dull, rainy morning; but the afternoon promises to be bright. I have been on a exploring party, looking in abandoned houses for chairs, pails & anything that may be useful for the dressing station.
The bombardment shakes the house so that it is difficult to write upstairs. Willett has just made up the tin of "cafe au lait" that came in Marge's parcel - having stolen hot water from the "Primus" in the Dressing-room.
There seems to be no end of field-ambulances hereabouts (many of them "Kitchener" units), so pretty well everything will be done that can be done in the "circs".
Ever much love from your Richard