This is an extract from Arthur Linfoot’s own transcription of his diary, written in 1976.
Up again at 7 o’clock. Physical drill at eleven. Cleaned clothes and buttons. In the afternoon cleaned waggons and rubbed grease on the wheels. Got some grease on my tunic and belt. Read account of North Sea battle in a “News Chronicle” received from home this morning (Jutland). Lovely summer morning. Sat outside billet cleaning grease off tunic and belt. Had short walk with Lee before turning in.
Up at 7 o’clock. Physical drill at 11 o’clock. Orders to clean buttons. Turned out at 2.15 to clean waggons. Dirtied tunic and had to clean it at night, and also belt. Beautiful evening. Sat outside billet and cleaned belt. Read account of North Sea battle1 in Daily News received from home this morning. Also read some of British Weekly2. Wrote letter home in reply to one received. Had slight trouble with toothache. Had short walk with Lee. Cleaned grease off tunic and pants.
“North Sea battle”: Jutland was 6 weeks ago, but reports were still coming through. The Germans’ next attempt to capitalise on what they claimed as a victory was a projected raid to shell Sunderland, on 19 August, but this was intercepted and defeated by the RN following Intelligence reports. ↩
The British Weekly, a Nonconformist newspaper founded by William Robertson Nicoll (1851 – 1923), a Scottish Free Church minister, journalist, editor, and man of letters. ↩
This is an extract from Arthur Linfoot’s own transcription of his diary, written in 1976.
Up at 7. Spent morning scraping mud off clothes and puttees with jack knife. Paraded 3 o’clock. C.O. read message from Divisional Commander thanking us for good work and saying appreciated by troops. Walked to village Y.M.C.A. Newspaper from home. Everything so peaceful this side of Albert. Rather cold. Lost service and sunshade in trenches.
Up at 7 o’clock. Spent morning cleaning up. Paraded at 3 o’clock in the afternoon with full pack and had good inspection. The C.O. read letter from General Head Quarters thanking us for our services in the most impossible conditions and also stating that the men appreciated our work. Walked to the next village Y.M. and looked round. Received newspapers from home and read them. Beautiful night. Everything so peaceful away from battlefield. Rather cold.
I lost service cap and sunshade at the trench.
Had sergeant and 6 men in our ambulance down with nerves and shell shock and 2 men slightly wounded. Noticed larks singing above the trenches while the battle was in full swing.
We were at the world premier of Asunder on 10 July 2016.
This is an extract from Arthur Linfoot’s own transcription of his diary, written in 1976.
When in the Line hurt knee on barbed wire. Now swollen and painful. We moved back to Albert for a rest. Germans shelling the town so taken back to Laviéville. All worn out so taken in ambulances – four kilometres. Good billets in barn. Washed and shaved after few days without either. Parcel from home. Meal of bully beef, biscuits and tea and real butter from parcel. Slept well.
(Diary written up when out resting. Some incidents remembered years later, omitted.)1
This footnote by ALL probably refers not just to this day’s entry but to most prior entries too. ↩
Lay down on stretcher to sleep as Germans were putting Jack Johnsons1 into the wood a few hundred yards away and we were in easy range. They were trying for the batteries behind us. Hurt knee on barbed wire on the night before and it was very painful. Marched down to Albert. Germans commenced to shell the town again. Were all done up, and were taken back to Laviéville by our motors. Got decent billet in a barn. Scraped clothing and cleaned up generally. Had a bathe and shave. First wash for 3 days. Plenty of tea. Bully again. Bread ration served out and I used some fresh butter received from home. Turned in early and slept well. Notes on front. Most horrible sight – men dying on top of dead. Coolness of some soldiers. Two soldiers trembling with fear who were to go over the top last Sunday morning. Our aeroplanes complete mastery of the air. German artillery not to be compared with ours.
Jack Johnsons: German 150 mm heavy artillery shells, which burst with characteristic black smoke. After the boxer Jack Johnson (1878-1946), the first black American world heavyweight champion (1908-1915). ↩
This is an extract from Arthur Linfoot’s own transcription of his diary, written in 1976.
Moving again at dawn. Helped a 59th F.A. man to carry a case to the dressing station. Coming back met Capt. Johnson who told me to rest, to lie down. Everywhere covered with watery mud. Found some of our men in dugout eating biscuits and drinking tea. Had some. Got another case and carried it down with the usual struggle to get past men coming up, and everybody weary and bad tempered. More biscuits jam and tea at about 5 o’clock. Felt faint and utterly. Everybody tired out. Sketchy meal revived me. Shoulders back and feet aching with carrying heavy men. Back to headquarters. Capt. Johnson thanked us for work done under appalling conditions and asked for volunteers to bring in a few more before we lay down. (Now quite dark) About halfway across old No Man’s Land Germans laid down a box barrage. A few men in front hit and the leading officer decided it was not worth the risk so we returned empty handed. I slept in a trench. Germans dropping Jack Johnsons1 in a wood just behind us to knock out some guns there.
Jack Johnsons: German 150 mm heavy artillery shells, which burst with characteristic black smoke. After the boxer Jack Johnson (1878-1946), the first black American world heavyweight champion (1908-1915). ↩
Called out at 7 o’clock. Assisted with a case to the 59th bearers. Captain Johnson met me and told me to lie down. Couldn’t find any place to lie. Sat crowded in dugout and had some most welcome tea, bully and biscuits and jam. After the usual delay got a case and carried down to château. Had biscuits, jam and tea. Stayed all afternoon and had bully, biscuits and tea at 5 o’clock. Everybody tired out. I thought I was going to drop first thing, but felt better afterwards. Shoulders, back and feet tired. Everything mud, and in most awful condition. Appalling stench from dead men and horses. Captain Johnson made a speech and thanked us for the manner in which we had done our work in the most difficult circumstances and then asked for volunteers to bring in a few more men. I volunteered. We set out and were shelled terribly. Had marvellous escapes and were struck by pieces of flying mud. Two men of the 59 slightly wounded but we all got clear. Returned to château with no wounded.
This is an extract from Arthur Linfoot’s own transcription of his diary, written in 1976.
Hauled up at 7 o’clock and told we should be on parade. Grabbed biscuits and got a drink of tea and marched off to the ruined chateau; a new place. Very heavy bombardment going on. Marched from dressing station up the line and our guide got lost as usual. Hopelessly mixed and Paddy and I carried a stretcher with two regimental bearers. Had to cope with a man who was mad with shell shock. A man died as Paddy and I carried him (I was at the back). Convulsions, sick and died. Carried him to relay post at old German front line. Sergeant there swore at us for wasting time on a “stiff” and threw him over into the old No Man’s Land. We are in the Heligoland Redoubt Land trenches and where parapet blown down get occasional glimpses of far country behind Albert. Carried all day. Just before dark Captain Johnson met us xxxx directed us to a dugout to rest until daylight. All day many troops moving through trenches and making stretcher bearing in the narrow space very difficult.