To his mother Charlotte Capell
11th March, '16
6th Lon.Fd.Amb. 47th Division [Dieval (18km sw of Bethune)]
Dearest Mother:
Fresh fields & pastures new. – – Only the other day I was longing for a change
of scene. We have it. Hills & vales, (all covered this week in unmelting snow); real villages,
no longer those little mining towns. This place is really picturesque, for instance. We came
in two stages, & on the evening of the first day I saw the Tiry's [at Bruay], – had
dinner with them, in fact. Berthe is back from Paris, invalided with anaemia. M. Flamme
(the uncle) has been called up for the army. Aged over 40 & never having done any service
before, owing to a deformed foot, he is feeling the new conditions pretty acutely. Trottie
went with me, & we had a very jolly time. Both Mme. Tiry & Mme. Flamme are charming –
they couldn't be kinder. What a queer coincidence that we should be among the first English
troops to go there! (Previously when I had been to see them it had been an unofficial journey).
There, & also at this village I have been billetting, under Capt. Dixon – coming on by car,
each time, a few hours ahead of the troops & having countless experiences, amusing sometimes &
sometimes tedious. – On the whole it has not been at all bad fun, though it has been
really tremendous labour to get all things settled down: hardly more than three or four modern
houses, the rest are ramshackle old farm-buildings. It is all more uncomfortable than any
place we have been to, save the very first village [St Hilaire] of all, last March, but the
only people to have "groused" have been the sergeants, who have been rather pampered in the
past. The men have settled down well.
The people here have never had English troops before – or rather only for a day or two
quite early in the War. They are different from the mining people, – slow-witted, but
very friendly for the most part: (this is just a first impression). I should have said that we
are quite a long way from the front – at the back of the war zone, in fact. Where we go
& what we do when our "rest" period is over remains to be seen. The change of scene & air will
do everyone good, – we were getting stale & stuffy.
I am biletted in a farm-stable with Roffe, Willett, Caldicott & one other – a little
rabbit-hutch of a place, which has this advantage of protecting us by night from the bitter
north-east, snow-laden winds. Plenty of straw. One little drawback – the rats. –
They swarm! But you can get used to rats walking about you, – so long as they don't get
in the bed-clothes. One fell down from the roof on me last night & I woke everyone with a
piercing yell uttered in half sleep. – Roffe is well. Willett has a bad cold, &
Caldicott is just out of hospital; – influenza.
Yesterday I had a wonderful heap of letters – a little accumulation. Thank you for
your fine letter. – The reason I was so long silent was that, setting off for the
"manoeuvres", I anticipated long marches & a return in three days, so left everything possible
behind me, including notepaper. I am sorry for the dismal tone of my last letter! Just a
passing mood! – Not but what I am convinced that there is something wrong with England.
What for instance are they doing for all the middle-class men who come out here & have to
continue with rents & rates? – The landlords go on claiming their pound of flesh, I
suppose, though if it weren't for the men here, all their property might be nothing but a heap
of smashed bricks. – Not a man in this place but grandfathers! The women on the farms
work like Trojans.
This in summer would be a most delightful spot. Today has arrived Isabel's splendid parcel.
All my thanks. I haven't had time to open it yet. You've no idea of the various little jobs
that I am called on for! Misunderstandings crop up that I have to solve, & even those of our
men who can talk French won't take the trouble to put on the suavity which is rather necessary
to get along well with the people. A little graciousness & an urbane turn of phrase, & all,
as a rule, is well! – More later! Your Richard