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.

1. 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.

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.

This is an extract from Arthur Linfoot’s own transcription of his diary, written in 1976.

Moved off at dawn to village just captured by infantry. Red brick dust told of houses once being there. Several German dead lying around. Picked up wounded at a dugout. Coming back had to re-cross the old open space between the lines and a German field gun was shelling the only place where we could get across our old trench system – frequently but regularly. Each squad in turn crouched with the stretcher on their shoulders and as soon as the expected shell burst and the splinters stopped buzzing, ran across the space. Some close shaves but all made it. Quite thrilling. Back to Albert for a rest and slept in the estaminet with the red tiled floor.

This is an extract from Arthur Linfoot’s own transcription of his diary, written in 1976.

Up at 7 a.m. Paraded at 9.15. Marched back to trenches about 12. Reached aid post about 2.30. Shelled. Waited a short time then sent down with walking case to advanced dressing station. Had drink of tea. Very heavy shelling by both sides. Turned out bright and fine. Trenches in fearful condition. Wet to the skin wading up and down. More bodies about than last time I was here and smelling badly. Bearer in a squad in front of us lost his nerve, but recovered in a few minutes. Felt remarkably fit and cheerful. Had to wade waist deep in one stretch of trench. Left stretcher at aid post and was sent down with about a dozen walking wounded. Lent one of them my tin hat. He had lost his. Wet to the waist. Took off puttees and boots and tried to scrape off thick mud. Back to aid post again where we resumed carrying until about midnight. Ordered forward again and led over old No Man’s Land where the first attack had been made. Heaps of dead like sheaves of corn at harvest time and smelling pretty bad in the dark. Ordered to lie down until daybreak.

This is an extract from Arthur Linfoot’s own transcription of his diary, written in 1976.

Marched off at about 2 o’clock and back to Albert. First went to main dressing station and then taken to lie down by a wall on the ground. Paddy Graham and I lay together and shared a ground sheet. Took nothing off – not even boots – too tired. Immediately commenced to rain heavily. Wet through. Capt. Johnson came and took us to a stable full of vehicles which had not been in use from the start of the war. Everything filthy. I found a two wheeled trap leaning forward on its shafts and sat on the seat with my legs out in front. Went to sleep for hours. Woke up stiff and filthy with cobwebs. Had good feed of biscuits. Sent field postcard home. Received parcel with cakes in it. Rained heavily. Lot of men had German helmets. A rat ran up my shirt sleeve as I leaned out of barn window writing up diary. Wash and shave; first since Friday. Heard that 10,000 walking cases and 1,000 stretcher cases had been treated by our main dressing station in Albert. Went to sleep in badly damaged estaminet on red tiled floor. One man slept on billiard table and said cloth made it softer.