Monthly Archives: September 2017

22 September 1917 – Ted to Gertrude

Sept 22/17


Dear Mother

Just a line to say all’s well. We have had no scrapping yet but have had 4 days’ hard marching, very hard, over frightully bad & dusty roads. We have come 54 miles, & that at the end of an enervating hot weather & the men not hard & not having had much practice in route marching lately, is pretty good work; hard work anyhow.

The dust on the march was awful, absolutely indescribable, you really & truly could’nt see one yard at times. It is very cold at nights now, & still warmish during the middle hours of the day. We only have one blanket each, & our great coats of course, & no tents, so it’s pretty parky at night, I carry that Shetland woolly in my haversack & find it frightfully useful.

There are some more troops just ahead of us, & we heard guns this morning so evidently the ball has opened, though of course by the time you get this it will all be over, & a brief reference in the papers will be the only thing the public will know. But to us on the spot it looms much larger of course. We are all fit & well, & thriving on the simple life. I must keep a full record of all our doings as things & incidents fade so quickly from one’s memory if one does’nt jot them down at the time or very soon after. I wish letters took a shorter time to arrive.

Well, please don’t worry, mother. The regiment is in great form & I’m tremendously glad to get a chance to take it into action. I have’nt got time to write to the others as you may imagine, so will you please apologise, & expect my next letter when you get it.

Best love to all

Yr loving son



Battle of Ramadi

39th Garhwal Rifles marching in Mesopotamia 1917

39th Garhwal Rifles marching in Mesopotamia 1917


Leave a comment

Posted by on 22 September, '17 in About, Ramadi


17 September 1917 – Ted to Gertrude

Sept 17/17


Dear Mother

Just a line to tell you not to expect a letter from me for some time, after getting this one, as we are off on a strafe, so I don’t suppose I’ll get much time to write. Please don’t worry, I’ll be all right and I’ll write again as soon as ever I can, but of course on these occasions one does’nt get much time, & besides I expect censorship is strict, & letters take such years to get home don’t they – I am most awfully glad to get the chance to command the Battalion on this show & I do hope we get a good chance: I have absolute confidence in the Battalion, officers & men alike; so wish me luck & don’t worry. Wish I was nearer home all the same, so as to communicate with you more often & quicker.

I have taken a good many photographs with my new camera, & have sent the films to India to be printed. I have told them to send you the prints direct, each one numbered on the back, & I am sending you a list herewith shewing what each one is, otherwise you’ll not be able to tell. I expect this letter will reach you long before the prints, but that can’t be helped.

It’s a wee bit cooler, but still hottish for campaigning; however, we are more than ½ way through September & we should’nt get much more hot weather now.

We are going very light, hardly any kit, & are saying goodbye to creature comforts for some time I expect. However, I expect we shall all be as hard as nails before very long & shall prefer discomfort to comfort!

Well goodbye for the present & wish me luck & the regiment too- I never expected to command it in action, & am indeed proud & happy to get the chance- I’ll write again just as soon as ever I can, but you must expect short & scrappy letters I’m afraid.

Best love to all

Yr loving son


Leave a comment

Posted by on 17 September, '17 in About


11 September 1917 – Ted to Gertrude

Sept 11/17


Dear Mother

Very many thanks for 3 letters from your last mail, which arrived on Thursday 6th. Your letters were dated 12th 18th & 25th July. Yes was’nt it silly of them to wire & say I was seriously ill, I asked the doctor man not to wire, but he said he had to, as it was the order, but he would just say I had been admitted to hospital. But it seems he wired seriously ill all the same. I’m so sorry, but I wired as soon as I could to say I was all right really & I’m glad you got that wire, but I expect there was some delay in sending mine off.

You will have had my letters from hospital of course, & I am absolutely fit again now, though I took a longish time to pick up after leaving hospital thanks to the trying heat & not wonderfully good or nourishing food. In fact I did’nt really turn the corner & feel my own usual self again till we had been here a day or two, & then I think the change of air & scene worked wonders & I’m as fit as a fiddle now, so please don’t worry any more about me. I’m taking great care of myself, as if one gets ill & is invalided, it only means being sent to India, & I think I should hate that more than anything else, being right out of things owing to some rotten illness & not helping things on a bit. So I determined to get well & defeat this dysentery & its after effects & I have at last succeeded.

A busy life we have nowadays as we are doing rigorous brigade training. By the way I was a bit premature in my remarks about the hot weather being over. It is by no means, & every day this month we’ve had it 112°, far above what it should be, & as you may imagine leading a strenuous life in this heat is not all beer & skittles. But it’s got to be done, as time is short now to complete our training. The nights are certainly lovely now, & the early mornings too, but one has a good deal to do right up till late in the day when it is really hot, & after that I have to start getting ready orders etc for the next day’s work, so one is at it either physically or mentally the whole day. But I love the work, being in command, as it’s all so interesting & such good practice for me; and it is a pleasure to work with such good & keen officers & men as I have got under me.

I went into Baghdad on Sunday & wondered about having a look round. The silk market here is lovely, & you would love to have got a good old look round among all the lovely stuff they have got. I have bought one or two pieces, but I don’t know if it’s any good. I also bought one or two odds & ends of brass ware, very badly made an’ all, but it’s just the stuff the Baghdadis use in their own households for making coffee etc.

I strolled round in the copper market too, a long low roofed-in bazaar, with nothing but coppersmiths all down each side. They all sit in the road-way just outside their shops & bang away at their pots & pans, & the din they all make together is absolutely ear-splitting. We had breakfast at the Hotel Maude, quite a nice breakfast – we had butter for the first time since I’ve been out here (we have’nt had any potatoes for about 4 months, by the way: I’ve quite forgotten what they’re like: it’s quite like home is’nt it!) & then we came back to camp by river. We get awful good fruit here, I wonder if I told you before, grapes & water melons chiefly, & of course dates which are very nice, but filling.

The drop in temperature between day & night here is really almost incredible; on the 6th it was 114° by day & dropped to 67° at night, a difference of 47° between day & night readings! So no wonder the nights seem cool after the grilling days, & one has to be careful in such contrasting temperatures. However one gets pretty hard out here & can stand a good deal of knocking about.

I had a line from Jim at Singapore, he seems very happy & is by all accounts a very busy man, what with being cable censor & a few other things. Very many thanks for the Blackwoods with the I.A. article. A most interesting piece of reading, & a very fair estimate of the value of the 2 Indian Divisions in France I think. It is nice to see the regiment’s name so prominent, in such a widely read magazine too, & it is an article that is sure to be read by everyone familiar with the magazine. I am cutting it out & keeping it.

I only got Nell’s wire after I had come out of hospital as it was addressed c/o Casualties, Bombay & was sent on by post from there, which seems rather a rotten arrangement. It’s better I fancy to stick to the regiment always for an address & not try any games. I only got one letter from Nell too last mail, & that was addressed the same whereas all yours & Ben’s & several others addressed here all came direct.

Very nice of everyone to be so kind in asking after me, & I appreciate it muchly. I know several of the Queens now, and old Roderick, the C.O., was talking to me about Mr Kirwan the other night, as he is chaplain to the rgt: of course. You say something about getting home, but I’m afraid that’s clean out of the question. You have to be pretty bad to be sent home from here; they consider India quite good enough to convalesce in nowadays, & I believe they have awful good homes etc there up in various hill stations which are undoubtedly as good as you will get anywhere. However with any luck I’ll be home on a month’s leave next year sometime, & if the war’s over I may get longer.

I see in your letter of 25th July you say you had got my cable saying “much better”, but I sent that off long before then I think, & when you got it I must have been out of hospital & back with the regiment. I cabled again when I rejoined & I think you must have got that quicker, as I sent the former ones at “week-end cable rates” which is cheap & slow but I sent the one saying I had rejoined at quicker rate, as the week end ones seem to take such years.

A good thing your getting over to Hook Hospital for a change, & I expect you liked it. Meeting all those descendents of old Hartley Rowlks too must have been amusing.

Heaps of papers arrived last mail, & very many thanks for them. I see you address my letters as Lt Col now – quite right – but I was wondering how you knew, because I figured it out that the letter I wrote & told you I had got tempy: promotion was one of the ones that was sunk. It only came out in orders out here on June 16, & even if my letter telling you had not been sunk, it could’nt possibly have reached you by July 12th, which is the date of the first letter I got so addressed. P’raps the India office sneaked.

Must end up. I fancy D.B. is absolutely certain not to come back now.

Best love to all

yr loving son


Leave a comment

Posted by on 11 September, '17 in About


4 September 1917 – Ted to Gertrude

Sept 4/17


Dear Mother

I don’t quite know how the mails run here but I think I’m catching something if I write today.

We have more or less settled down now in our new camp. The weather is supposed to get cooler this month & it is certainly much drier up here, a hot burning wind most days which parches the skin and makes you very thirsty. The dust is pretty bad here, but that is only to be expected in a big camp.

Certainly the nights now are delightful, & the early mornings might even be called cold, though of course there is not yet that nip in the air that is the infallible sign of the end of the hot weather. But the days are shorter, and the mornings last cooler longer and it does’nt stoke up quite so early in the day. Of course we may yet get another hot spell, & I believe there is a week or ten days of the “date ripener”, a hot moist time that is due about now, but on the whole we may fairly claim to have broken the back of the hot weather.

We lead a strenuous life here, putting finishing touches to our training. It is indeed pleasant to join up with our brigade at last and to get to know our fellow soldiers. I told you I had met the Queens, but no one else in particular. I met Spens the adjutant & he remembered us all very well from the old Camberley-Frimley days. Was it his sister, red haired, who married Harry Harris? (what’s he doing, by the way, & where’s Charley Anderson all this time? pardon the interruption!) I did’nt like to ask him, though we had a good old talk about most other people.

The fruit here is lovely. Huge luscious water-melons, grapes, & sweet limes, also dates of course, of which I ate my first fresh one a few days ago, quite nice & they are very sustaining I believe, and of course are the chief article of diet of the local arab. I believe you get oranges & apples too but I have’nt seen any yet; we have arrived just a wee bit late for the best fruit, but we get excellent stuff still all the same.

I have of course visited the City of the Caliphs and am much pleased with it. I had heard so many fellows say they were disappointed in it that I was prepared to be so myself, though I determined to judge for myself. But I am by no means disappointed, in fact I think it’s a good spot. After all, it depends on what you expect, & naturally those who thought to see a London or Paris were disappointed.

It is a typical eastern town, mud built & brick built, with one big main street, & the usual small winding smelly arab bazaars, roofed-in to keep the sun off (and the smell in!) and lined with the usual rows & rows of tiny little cupboard-like shops. The one big street was made by the Turks by the simple expedient of cutting a wide path right through the middle of the city, irrespective of any private houses or anything that barred the way. As a consequence this wide street is bounded on both sides by mutilated houses. Here you can see half a living room or bed room, with furniture still in it; & further on a whole house cut neatly in half right down the middle, showing the arrangement of rooms & staircases perfectly!

Christian Churches, Jewish Synagogues & Mohamedan mosques – for it is a most cosmopolitan place – all suffered in the same way, hewn down altogether if they were in the line of the street, or cut in half or a piece shaved off to satisfy the Turkish street maker. It is a most curious sight, the ends of all these buildings left rough & unrepaired, as if some giant had taken two long cuts with a huge knife through the centre of the city and lifted out the debris with a spoon & so left the clear street as it now is. The Turks called it Khalil Pasha street, after the victor of Kut; but it is now called New street. As an improvement it is a decided success but it was a most ruthless method to adopt.

The best part of the town is I think the river front. The backs of all the houses are towards the river, & each house has a small garden overlooking the river. The houses on the front are easily the best & most imposing and the view from the river – some 300 yards wide here & crossed by a pontoon bridge – is most fascinating. Narrow sinister little stepped alleyways lead down to the water’s edge between each house, most suggestive of crime & murder in the dark days of the Caliphs! The finest building is the British consulate, a fine big house that stands by itself & dwarfs the surrounding houses completely.

The bazaars as I say are just like those at Amara & Basra, possibly a trifle more crowded & with a more mixed crowd too. One seems to meet representatives of every conceivable race. The shops have a good number of things for sale, but I fancy there is nothing much of any value now, as there was a good deal of disorder & looting between the time of  the Turks’ evacuation & our entry into the town last March. I believe good silks are still to be found, but carpets are positive great auk’s eggs – there are’nt any! At least not for the common herd, though I have no doubt a prolonged & laborious search might reveal some, or a visit to the bazaar with someone in authority. I shall buy one or two odds & ends of no value just to bring home & add to the Delaford collection-

I went across the river & saw the railway station, the famous terminus of Germany’s eastern aims. There was nothing much to see, a few burnt out trucks, a lot of scrap iron, a cluster of railway buildings inside which there appeared to be a lot of work going on, judging by the noise of clanging & hammering that issued from them.

We breakfasted at the Hotel Maude, (by the way I’ve never got my socks yet, & I simply dare’nt go & ask for them!) & came back to camp in a bellum, a very pleasant row down stream for 2 miles or so. The bellums here are nice sensible boats, like seaside rowing-boats, & they row them along just like those men in blue jerseys at the sea, only dressed in arab kit of course. They use that short deep-water stroke. So much safer & more comfortable than the cockle shells of Basrah & Amarah!

So on the whole we have fairly settled down now, & right glad we are to be here at last. The change will do us all good, officers & men alike, the double change of pace & life – for there are many more fellows to meet here – being most acceptable.

We have’nt had a mail since leaving Amara, & that’s just about right, as one is due here in 2 days’ time & that’ll be just a fortnight. D.B. is still in India & will not I fancy come out again as he is not passed fit for service, & is only fit for duty in India. Then his time in command is up in November, so it’s very unlikely he’ll be sent out again. So I suppose I shall keep it for a bit longer yet, & very glad I shall be too. I want to take the rgt: into a show & see how we all get on, so I hope they don’t send anyone out to take it from me, though I have always told you I expect it any time.

I went to a local revue here the other day, acted by some sappers who are in camp next us. One Gaskell took me, he was a friend of Ben’s & mine in Lansdowne. The review was’nt very good, but served to pass an evening away.

Fearful fighting in France is’nt there, & we don’t seem to be making much progress, though I have no doubt we are killing thousands of Boches, & I’m afraid our losses must be heavy. The Italians seem to be doing wonders but I’m afraid the Russians are a complete wash out. However I suppose there is still just the off chance of a complete collapse of Germany & Austria – especially the latter – this year though to the casual observer it seems as if we must be prepared to see another winter out.

Must end up

Best love to all

yr loving son



New Street Baghdad, 1917

Great Auk’s eggs

Map of Mespot (large file)


Leave a comment

Posted by on 4 September, '17 in About