Monthly Archives: March 2015

Ted was Adjutant to Col Drake-Brockman whose book “With the Royal Garhwal Rifles in the Great War” gives details that Ted was not able to provide because of the censors. Here though is a story about the battle of Neuve Chapelle that Ted didn’t tell because he would not have wanted to alarm his family.

With my adjutant, Captain Berryman, and my orderly, Rifleman Keshar Sing Rana (sic), I was seated with my back against the parados. There was also a man of the 6th Jats who was seated alongside my orderly next to Captain Berryman, so that there were four us of close together in a line. [The row seems to have been Ted, the man from the 6th Jats, Keshar Singh Rana, Drake-Brockman]. Suddenly a shell came over and exploded in the trench just a couple of yards or less from where we were seated, with the result that my orderly and the man of the 6th Jats were killed instantly. Keshar Sing Rana, who had been awarded the Indian Distinguished Service Medal at Festubert in November, 1914, had two pieces of shell blown right into his forehead, killing him instantly. I missed him greatly, poor fellow. The man of the 6th Jats, too, had a big piece of the back of his neck blown out. He was leaning a bit over, and behind Captain Berryman at the time, so it was a lucky escape for us both. The extraordinary thing was that we were all four were seating touching each other, Berryman on one side and I on the other, with the two men in between us, and yet neither Berryman nor myself was touched or hurt beyond a bit of a shaking from the explosion. Such is war! You can never tell when it will be your turn so it is no good worrying about it.

France.

March 7.1915-

Dear Jinny

Thanks most awfully for your topping long letter today, also the Royal and the Watch on the Rhine. Heaven knows if I’ll ever get a chance to sing it, but you never know & it would be awful fun to sing it at a Tommy’s concert if occasion offered, & it’s a sort of song that would “go down” like anything.

My dear what a rag you must have had that Sunday, I simply roared when I read your description of it; it must have been too truly funny for words; I should imagine the lawn is ruined for ever!

Ripping Dick having a nice little car, I suppose you all make yourselves awfully nice to him now. The hair wash has’nt turned up yet, but will tomorrow I expect. Many thanks anyhow. Talking of hair wash, I’m glad you liked the photographs; but like a first class fool I sent the explanation to Ben, who must be wondering what on earth it is, as I only put the numbers of the photographs & what they were. But I expect you’ve fixed it up by now & have found out what they all are. Very good I call them; I took a picture of an aeroplane right low down yesterday so I expect that’s sure to come out.

Miserable day today wet & rain, same like yesterday. Today I have been up to the trenches opposite Neuve Chapelle, mud everywhere, you wade in knee deep liquid pea soup for yards & yards, fall over, plaster your face with mud, sit in it, lie in it, wash in it, & generally live in it all round. Some bits of the trench are really quite dry & paved with boards & bricks, like a real street, but some are real jam. I wore my ‘scutum & it looks old enough now in all conscience, & keeps the wet out and the fug in, which is after all what it’s supposed to do. I am now writing this in a perishing barn which I use as an office. I believe we shift out of here tomorrow, so our little so called rest is over.

Alice is very fit, thanks, & full of life. Some former friend of hers brought her a lovely English Doll yesterday so she is fearfully pleased with life.

Why should you rag me about my letters? What’s wrong with em anyhow? I know they’re dam dull nowadays but there’s nothing much going on. I will tell you some lies if you like, just to fill up. Yesterday a German aeroplane flew down on to the road where we were standing, whisked off my hat, & flew up again. Then it looped the loop & came down, & out stepped General French, disguised as the Kaiser! He gave me back my hat, & said he was sorry, but he was just having a day off and rolling round just for fun in an aeroplane he had found lying by the roadside. He asked after you all, & said the war would be over on the 7^th Sunday after Trinity & then flew away again. There, isn’t that interesting-

No rotting, yours really was a nice long interesting letter, 6 pages, & so neat & well – well, damned good all round. Well, very well thank you. Is’nt that a joke or something. The latest thing to say (I saw this in London O.) when you don’t quite catch what anybody says is “snow again sonny, I did’nt quite catch yer drift.” So I shall be always saying this now: awful won’t it be.

So you are going to sing at the white City are you; that’s good. I shall look out in the papers for an account of the concert. Your concerts are always a great success my dear; I wish I could be home to help you pull up the curtain or sell programmes or something-

By the way, talking of Cicely, what about never meeting her when I was at home, under the clock in High St a 3 o’clock on Tuesday 12 Jan 1915? Did you ever apologise & explain? Please give her my best love when you see her; I do wish I could have seen her as I hear she’s awfully sweet, & now Dick’s cutting me out.

Had a long letter from Rosamond yesterday, no, I mean today, so I have written a long one back to her. I hear she is awfully pretty nowadays, but then I always thought she was- I wrote to Ruth too a long time ago, I wonder if she ever got it, as I have never had any answer from her. I have been watching our six-inch guns shelling the German trenches today; they make a most appalling explosion & shake the whole place. There is also a 9 inch gun too somewhere, called “Mother” & that makes still more fuss. What on earth a 15 inch gun does I can’t imagine, I can quite understand the Dardanelles forts being blown to blazes by them. Long letter from Paul a day or two ago, he seems very cheery.

I must end up, dinner time & I must’nt be late.

Write again soon. Keep smiling    Love to Marj

& tons to you

fr Ted

Here is Dick’s nice little car.

Dick Berryman c 1915

March.5^th

Dear Mother

I got a cake from you a day or two ago, which was much appreciated and thanks awfully for it. I also got today 2 shirts from Percy, but the old fool has made em quite a different colour to my other ones, but perhaps he could’nt get the same stuff again; otherwise they seem all right.

Nothing much going on here, we are still in supposed rest, but don’t get much really. It is regular March weather now, windy & cold, but not much rain really now. We have had one or two really lovely days, but there is always this strong wind blowing.

I had a long letter from Paul yesterday, he did’nt seem to think much of the Gloucester as a sea boat in really dirty weather- otherwise he seemed very cheery. Ben also wrote me a long letter, you all seem to have had great times at the concert.

Any news of Jim’s or Topher’s commissions yet? I always scan the Gazettes eagerly to see if they have been appointed. I thought it took no time to get a commission nowadays.

Not much news from our part of the world, things are fairly quiet here I think, at present at anyrate; though they seem to have had some lively times up at Ypres.

Did you ever get those photographs I sent home I wonder? I think I shall enter for the Daily Mail £1000 prize, though I’m afraid none of those I sent are up to much. Still they are interesting and I must try and get some more; I hope Jane has been able to get me some films-

A dull letter, but there is nothing much to tell you I’m afraid.

Love to all

yr loving son

Ted.