Private William Watts, 5th Bedfordshire Regiment

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We had a pretty fierce fight on Sunday, in fact I did not expect to some out alive, but I escaped it pretty well. I got a bullet through my left foot, and I left here on Sunday. We were put on a hospital ship and are now lying on an island for a time. I do not know how many there are of us left, when I was with them they were falling like ninepins. No mistake they are some good fighting chaps, they have made their name already. We were not sent out to take a hill and in less than four hours we had go it. If they can keep it I think it will soon be all over here, thank God for it.

Trooper G Baker, Bedfordshire Yeomanry

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At last I am writing to you. I hope it finds you well, as it leaves me and all my pals. We are having some grand weather, but very hot for our job. We are trench digging. We came up a week last Friday by motor bus, but the roads are very bad, and if you ride on top you have to hold on tight. Our home is a wood about a mile from the firing line, so we have a few German shells over. We got one of our men wounded last Wednesday, and on Thursday night we had just had our tea when they started shelling our wood. They kept on for nearly an hour. Four men and two officers were wounded, but none of the Beds. We have a battery of heavy RGA guns all round us, and while I am writing they are sending them over. May they find a good home! We get used to the guns. We get very little sleep when they start a bombardment. We are quite happy, but will be very pleased to see Old England again. We have been out here three months, and we have seen some sights. One village we came by was just a heap of ruins, and by the furniture which was left people had to leave in a great hurry. What would people think to see their homes ruined? My regards to all I know.

Trooper J. F. Allen, D Squadron Bedfordshire Yeomanry

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Considering it’s a month ago since you wrote to me I think its about time I answered your kind, and interesting letter, and trust that when this reaches you the Company, that’s boys out here from Eynesbury as you term us in your letter, hope that you and all yours are quite well, as I am pleased to say all are here bar myself. I am in Hospital sick, but am getting on fine and hope to be out soon with the boys. It must indeed make you feel proud to get so many letters from your Old Boys, it shows how very much they all appreciate your kindness and
trouble to them in days gone by, and your sincere friendship now, I know of us do in the Beds Yeomanry, and the utmost singular thing is that the Eynesbury boys always stick together. I had a letter from Jim Chamberlain, he is quite well and cheerful and sends his best wishes on behalf of us all, I shall write to him as soon as I get back. I heard St. Neots was very busy with holiday makers; also that you had a Sung Eucharist on the Sunday. I should love to get into a cassock and surplice again. I hope it went off all right, guess it did though. We went to the sea-side for our Bank Holiday this year Brigade training. Was up at 4 o’clock Monday morning and had breakfast at 5. 30. Had a scheme on the way to our destination, so took us until about 1.30 p.m. to do about eighteen miles. It was a large stretch of land against the the sea, all the Brigade was there, so there was a large number of us altogether. We went on the sands until stables at 4 o’clock then after tea Geo. Baker, C. Twigden, and I went bathing, it was treat the sea, but jolly cold out, so we had a run up the sands to keep ourselves warm, and to top it up it rained like blazes when we were getting dressed ; there were no houses to run to, only a large French Searchlight and one Estaminet (pub), so went in and had a drink. and then back to the lines to make our bed, that is a couple of saddles and a sword stuck in the ground and a sheet over the top, but that was no good, it rained and blowed, it’s about the roughest night I’ve had since I’ve been in France Gig fell out of “bed” I think any way he was up at 3 o’clock and grooming his horse and trying to get warm again.
Stables were at 4 a.m. again and drilling on the saddles from 5.30 to 8.0, when I think I was just getting hungry. After breakfast time was our own until 12.0, as our Regiment had a swimming race. Gig came fourth, he would have been first only he couldn’t run fast enough when he got out owing to have taken too much salt water in: also the officers of the Brigade had a horse race, all right it was too. We met a chap from Eaton there named Ernest Partridge, about the only one I’ve met from our way I think
Things went on as usual until a week last Thursday when we had to go and dig trenches again, only we went in motor buses this time. It’s a large park about 11/2 miles from the firing line, a fine place it is too, a big chateau stands right in the centre, belonged to an Austrian count, that accounts probably for the reason its not being shelled, because just to our left the village is absolutely done for. Furniture and clothing lay about everywhere in the houses, people must have left in a great hurry, and all the Church is absolutely ruined, a hole in it large enough for a donkey and cart to go through easily, but the majority of it is down, bricks and mortar and great holes in the churchyard, with bits of coffins and bones lying about.
On Monday night I was up all the time sick, so on Tuesday morning the Doctor sent me here, and now I am pleased to say nearly better.
Please excuse the writing this time, am sitting up in bed to write this, and have only got a stump of a pencil, and as its getting dark will have to close with my kindest regards to all

Trooper Frederick Howe, Bedfordshire Yeomanry

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I now write to you a few lines again from somewhere in France, and I hope that they will find you quite well as this letter leaves me in the very best of health and happy. I have been going to write to you two or three times but could not get at it until now. Well during the last eight days I have been digging with many more of my comrades just a short distance behind the firing line, and we were at a very large village that has been wrecked by the Germans when they went through it, but mostly by their shell fire. I will just tell you what the sights were that we saw as we went through the village. The first was that there were no people living in the houses at all, unless it was our Tommies here and there. I suppose it really was because every house had been hit by a shell. Some had great holes in the roof, others in the walls, and many right down to the ground. But what one noticed so much was the white stone building (or rather part of one now) which can be seen some distance off on a clear day. When we first saw it we wondered what it could be as it was so high in the air. On getting into the village, we saw that it was one side of a tower which but a few months ago stood at one end of a splendid church, but is now a heap of bricks and stones. It was shelled by heavily by the German’s big guns and all that is left of it now is one side of the tower and one end wall. I should say by the look of it it was a larger church than our own Parish one. I have been quite close to it and I saw that the shells had blown gravestones out of the ground also. It was an awful sight to see (I must not name the place where all this has happened). While we were digging we had shells from the German guns dropping quite close to the trenches, but no one was hurt act of the Beds Yeomanry while I was there. I came back yesterday to our horses, but we have still got some up there. One afternoon we had to get in the trenches, as they were sending their shells over, and they were dropping rather close to us. The nearest one was 50 yards from the trench. That dropped in a hedge alongside the road. So you see we (the Beds. Yeomanry) have been under shell fire. We are not having much wet weather out here now, today is a lovely, the sun is real hot, and its giving people who have corn to cut a good chance to get it carted. It all looks lovely out here. I suppose our English farmers are getting on with the harvest now at home. All the boys are quite well and wish to be remembered to you. Well now I must come to a close with this letter as its just on stable time. With all my best wishes to you, believe me to remain yours sincerely Fred Howe.

Private J. Clough, Royal Army Medical Corps.

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Private Clough, who used to drive Messrs, Hinsbys’ motor ‘bus, and now drives a Motor Ambulance at the Front, writes as follows I am very sorry to keep you waiting for a letter but we have been so unsettled this last week that I could not find time to drop a line, Since Saturday I have not taken my boots off until last night. You will be surprised to hear that we have shifted
again, a little bit nearer the firing line this time and had the experience of being under shell fire for the first time yesterday. The Germans were shelling all round the hospital at the rear of the lines, so we were sent up to remove the wounded. It is very exciting to hear the shells bursting over your head, I tell you it makes you feel bad for the time but you soon get used to it. You see the other chaps go up and down the road not taking the slightest notice. One would wonder how it is, but it’s like everything else, you get used to it. I was on guard on Sunday night and the cannon was terrible. They started about 12 30 in the morning and lasted right up to last night without hardly a break and they have just started again. The
German aeroplanes have been flying all day over our lines and the shots that are wasted trying to hit them is surprising, but still they come. They don’t take the slightest notice. Now about myself. I am still keeping all right, nothing to grumble at, and I get on just as well as I did before. I have been very fortunate up to now. I have met three more fellows that I know, Harry Stanford from St. Neots and two of the Bedford bus drivers. They stopped in the same town where we were for two days. They belong to the 6th Beds. and went
off to the firing lines yesterday morning. Now I cannot tell you any more news. I am expected to be called out any minute. Remember me to every- body and say that I am quite well up to the present. God bless you all and trust he will keep me safe for your and the children’s sake.

Private Robert Easter

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We are all pleased to hear from anyone at home. Personally, I get the St Neots paper sent to me every week out here, in which I find a local war news very good indeed. I was sorry to hear that three of my old school chums have been called on to lay down their lives- and also Sam Irons- in this terrible war. I should think that you feel it’s great honour to turn out 87 of your older boys to do their best for the good old England which are no doubt we shall all try to do. We are billeted a few miles from the firing line in a paddock belonging to a French Farmer. The Division Ammunition Column consists of all sorts of arms, from high explosives to small arms, so you say it would not be safe if the Germans got to know, as they would put a straight shot on us. While I am writing one of our airmen is being shelled by the enemy. It is a grand site to see him dodging the shrapnel is they best they leave a cloud of smoke. I must say they are plucky lot of fellows: they seem to take no notice of them. One are the last Monday have no fewer than 27 shells fired at him, but I’m glad to say not one of them find that their mark. They pass over us on their return journey to the base to report. We can hear the guns going at a great distance; the noise is sometimes awful. We have seen some queer sites out here. One church in particular has the spire and the lower tower gone and the roof blown in. Not a pain of glass left, I’m even the clock shelled right through the centre. Houses are raised to the ground, Sam with their sides in: one whitewashed house simply riddled with bullets. We have some very nice officers and also plenty of good food, which consists of fried bacon and bread and tea for breakfast; stew or fried steak peas and potato for dinner; bread butter and jam the tea, so you can guess we do not take any harm. You must excuse such scribble for I am using a box containing 18lb shells for a table, I’m going to shell case for a seat. I hope you are all in the best of health as I am glad to say I am at present.

S C Humphrey, Royal Navy HMS Foxhound

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This is to the inhabitants of Buckden, thanking them one and all for their kindness shown to me since this terrible war has been going on, and I am sure I appreciate the present sent to me by Mr GW Grant, Mr A Wallace, also Mrs Craft, very much indeed, and I only hope but I may be spared to come home and thank then in person. May I also thank those kind friends who have written so many times, asking how I am getting on, and what I am doing, for I can assure you to hear from anyone at home letting me know just what is going on, seems to fill my heart with joy, for I love to hear all the news of the village. But there’s one thing lacking I am sorry to say, and that is, what is the matter with some of my schoolmates, why aren’t they joining the army? Come along, boys, only 48 of us in Buckden? Surely I had more schoolmates than that! Don’t forget there are at present 3 Germans to every 1 Englishman, and everyone who joins now helps to bring this war to a speedy and victorious end. Just look how nice it will be afterwards for us all to meet and chat of where we have been and what we have done. Don’t let me come home and say Hello Harry ! Hello George! What, haven’t had a shot at a German?” You won’t half feel ashamed of yourself. I can truly say there is no one more happy than I am to know I am fighting for our King and Country, trying hard to keep the old flag, the Union Jack, still flying over our heads. Think of our women and children who are doing their best at home for us. Now come on boys don’t be downhearted, there’s a recruiting office at St Neots, join today, and here’s to all those who do join now, jolly good luck and safe return – Now I must close my letter trusting to see better news in my paper the St Neots Advertiser the next copy I get from home. Once again thanking all my friends for their kindness.

Private Walter Gale, Army Cyclist

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I am getting on much better and feel much better in myself. I think I must have got some gas as I was so sick when I got down here and could eat nothing for four days. The Germans are using it in their shells. I was Brigade orderly and had been up to the trenches twice before I was hit. Of course I was wearing a pack over my mouth, but it was only one that I had made myself. The Brigade Headquarters was only about 150 yards from the trenches, it being what was left of an old farm house. The Germans must have known it was being used for something for they were shelling it the whole of the time and it was there that I received my souvenir. Well I was very lucky, for from the size of the piece of shell, it was high explosive, it looks as if it must have killed me. I have got the piece and will try and send it home, as I am not expecting to get home now. My wound is going on all right. Well, I don’t see how anyone would have know before you at home that U was wounded, as I was hit on Sunday the 9th, and wrote you first. There was a small parcel for me yesterday and the Corporal brought the mails up and left it in his hut, but someone had more right to it than I, so he pinched it, and I don’t know who it was from. Parcels with money should be registered. It is a great mistake to write “Cigarettes” or “Chocolate” on a parcel as they are often taken out when they reach this end. I don’t know what became of the other parcel you sent. We are in huts here, four in each hut, they are very nice too. Please remember me to all friends at home.

A Tidman, Royal Navy

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The sinking of the Lusitania was a foul murder, but of course we’ll make amends when we see those Germans, we are just itching for a rub at them. We lost eight men whilst covering the landing of the troops, but the troops have progressed all right. I shall never forget the night the Goliath went down, I had the middle watch, but it was sad to see the men struggling for their lives in the water, and all the ships showing their searchlights on the men in the water. You can’t picture it at home. We did our best to save a lot of them, I think we had about 100 survivors on our ship and 3 dead, the latter we buried at sea – a sailor’s grave. We were not far from her. We have been in the thick of it just lately, but still the old ship is as sound as a bell. The Germans are not men, the Turk is a gentleman to the German. I am safe as houses. I am as brown as a berry. It is lovely to have a swim not far from where the guns are firing. Don’t worry about me.

Private S H Irons

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I am keeping well and hope all at home are the same. We are in the trenches again and only 50 to 80 yards off the Germans. Our fellows could hear them singing this morning is playing as anything. Of course they keep firing at us all the time, and we let them have something back you maybe sure. I don’t know whether you have written again but have received nothing from you since you told me of Violet Ashford’s death. My thoughts are always about you, I’m wondering if you’re keeping well. I suppose things are looking nice at home now. I hope you will have a good crop of potatoes as I know things are very dear at home. You must go out as much as possible and enjoy yourself. We’re having some lovely weather here again now, but all the same I would rather be at home with you. Of course we know some of us must be out here or we would have those binders over in England. May God keep you and protect you from all harm.

As I am writing these few lines the guns are going off and very fairly shaking the earth. Also rifle fire is going on, and as I sit in our dugout, I think that the shirkers at home ought to be ashamed of themselves for not coming and trying to do a bit for their country, but I hope and pray to God that it will not last much longer, it is wicked to see the lives lost everyday