To his his sister Mary Capell
13th Jan. [1916]
6th Lon.Fd.Amb.
My Dear Mary
This is like living at a lighthouse! – cut off from the world all
day, with the incessant sound of heavy seas.
I have had a good letter from Mother. Please thank her. After all I
am not in such need of pants, as I have retrieved a pair I left last June
in charge of Mme. Boutir at Noeux! (Trottie got them for me). Rats &
insect life are the bane of this place, but we really are not having a bad
time. Willett has been recalled. Roffe is still here, otherwise it is a
new party of men, with me & a sergeant as N.C.O.s. A different officer too
– Capt Coleman, otherwise "Natty", otherwise "Juliet". A very tall,
gaunt, dark, lantern-jawed, shortsighted man, – in civil life a
renowned dentist; an awfully decent sort, but extraordinarily naif. His
high-pitched voice, so out of keeping with his appearance, & his mannerism
of saying "Roight!" (for "right") have long been pet features of the
Ambulance.
The village is heavily straffed every day – quite severely
yesterday & today in particular. Yesterday the trench outside was smashed
in, but we have perfect confidence in our cellars. In spare moments I am
reading Voltaire's correspondence with the King of Prussia, which Berthe
Tiry sent me. I have had a letter from Miss Maynam from a hospital ship at
Lemnos.
What a miracle, that evacuation of Gallipoli! Fortunate for us that all
our enemies are not so wily as the Germans. – Some of our fellows are
rather depressed by the Germans. "They are all on top of us in everything
but courage", one wounded man said to me.
I have extraordinarily little to say: what I could say –
descriptions of the scenes around, details of the day's bombardment & of
the casualties – are just what wouldn't be the thing to give.
Tell Frank that I have had a tin of cheroots from J.J. Hart.
My love to you all. Richard