Up about 7 o’clock. Marched off 9.30 full pack. Kept fine. Passed a large aerodrome and watched aeroplanes rising and alighting. Arrived Hem1 about 2 o’clock. Had dinner in a barn and then were shown our billets. Doullens 3 miles off. Pretty tired and fed up.
Hem: presumably Hem-Hardinval (B), 17km NE of Domart-en-Ponthieu (A) and 4km due W. of Doullens; Michelin square E7. ↩
Up shortly after 7 o’clock. Had breakfast. Received letter from Mother and wrote reply. Dim rainy morning. Received orders first thing after dinner to march off again. Arrived Domart1 shortly after 5 o’clock. Quite a trek. Got shoved into a poor billet but managed to sleep well along with Ben Jenkins in the top of the steps. A lot of trouble about blankets.
Up at 7 o’clock and went on guard for an hour. Had breakfast in ambulance waggon. Marched off at about 11.30. I was brake man on a G.S. waggon but had my pack carried for me. Arrived at Canaples1 at about 2.30. Billeted in an old château. Right upstairs in the loft. Rained heavily in the night. Got good night’s sleep.
Up at 6 o’clock. Marched off 7.30. Marched about 15 miles. Rain †fell in our journey† but only slightly. Arrived at Beaval1 about 3 o’clock. Rested for an hour and had tea on the roadside. Very hilly march. Marched fast and had few rests. Billeted in a decent place. I was to be on guard and did from 7 to 11 o’clock. Got into bed about 11.30. Received parcel from home.
Up at 6 o’clock. Went off to Gap station along with Corporal Chapman to strike tents. Didn’t get away until nearly dinner time. Hurried back to Aveluy post and had no time for dinner. Marched off about 11.30 and arrived at Warloy1 at about 4 o’clock. Messed about looking for billets and finally settled on some emergency tents. Had pretty good night, 9 in the tent.
Up about 8 o’clock. Sent up to the Gap station in the afternoon to strike tents. Got a few down and received orders to go back in the morning.
On duty generally†. Had two rides on the ambulance waggon to the Gap† station and had to go to the quartermaster at night to see about rations. Unsatisfactory sort of a day. Had rice for dinner and again at supper time. Heard that we were moving on Thursday.
Up about 8 o’clock. Laid fire and had breakfast. Mr Mudie1 arrived in the Ford car to take us away about 10 o’clock. He went to make enquiries about the people who are to relieve us. 33 F A relieved us about 4 o’clock. I walked to the cab station and Mr Mudie sent me on after Captains McCombie and Birrell to Aveluy post. There I got the Ford car and returned to the house where Corporal Chapman and I got in with our kit and returned. I received some letters, one from home telling me that Ranald McDonald was wounded in the leg and had trench fever2. Slept with the M.T’s.
La Verr3 killed.
Mr Mudie: the Army convention was/is that lieutenants and 2nd lieutenants were/are addressed, and sometimes referred to, as “Mr. xx”; so although ALL elsewhere writes “Lieutenant XX”, Mr Mudie – if the name is correct – was probably not a civilian. ↩
Trench fever is a moderately serious disease transmitted by body lice. It infected armies in Flanders, France, Poland, Galicia, Italy, Salonika, Macedonia, Mesopotamia, and Egypt in World War I. The disease is caused by the bacterium Bartonella quintana, found in the stomach walls of the body louse. Lice were, of course, ubiquitous as is well documented both in ALL’s diaries (for example, on 21 July 1916) and in other contemporary accounts. ↩
“La Verr” is written very faintly in longhand and is barely legible. However, in the light of helpful information from a correspondent, this was very probably Private Matthew La Veere, of the 58th Field Ambulance, from Cambusnethan near Wishaw, Lanarkshire, who is buried in the British Cemetery at Contay, some 13km west of Aveluy ↩
Up about 9 o’clock. Had fine grub. Read good part of the day. Read some hymns at night and wrote a short letter to Father.
Spent very pleasant day.
Bedfords moved off about 8 o’clock. We spent the day by ourselves. Had roast fowl for dinner and plenty of toast† and good grub. Went to bed about 10 o’clock after writing a long letter home from a green envelope1 which we found amongst some dead soldiers’ papers. Brooks and Kinross brought rations for us in the rain.
Green envelope: Letters from soldiers on active service were subject to censorship but, as a privilege, soldiers were also given one green envelope per month in which they could send uncensored personal and private letters. Evidently green envelopes were a valued resource, hence ALL’s use of this one left unused by its unfortunate owner. ↩