Just one letter again today – to his mother, recounting the adventure he had just had visiting the front line.

His Company Commander, Captain Hilton, had decided it would be a good idea for him to spend some hours in the same stretch of trench that they would shortly be taking over. When he got there he found that no arrangements had been made for him to stay, so he returned to the Reserve trench, only to be sent straight back up again, because his Commanding Officer insisted on each new officer spending the night in the trenches. So off he went, on his own – a twenty minute walk back up, but

‘when I heard the banging going on in front…I felt just like what it is to go to the dentist; I knew I had got to go up but my courage very nearly failed although I knew I could not go back.’

He arrived at dusk, and rested for a few hours before accompanying the Captain on his rounds of the trench at 11:00pm. At one point the trench was just 30 yards from the German line, which ‘set my heart beating rather quickly’, but when they climbed on to the parapet to inspect the wire he found himself to be curiously calm. He didn’t mention the Captain’s name or Regiment to his mother, but we know from his Memories of Active Service that he was Captain Penrose, of The Queens Royal West Surrey Regiment, and ‘elegant, courtly young man’ who would be killed by a shell just a few months later.

Minnies (from Sherriff’s War Diary). By permission of the Surrey History Centre

Next morning, in a further tour of the trench, he had to be careful to avoid the Minnies, which everyone can see rise high into the air, before watching closely to see where they might land, and taking appropriate evasive action. They were new to him, he told his mother, ‘and when one goes up my heart goes pit-a-pat’. Nevertheless, he was resigned to putting up with it, and controlling his fear, as best he could – and it was a ‘lovely relief, when your tour of duty is over, to go down the steps into the safe dugout which nothing can injure, and have a quiet sleep and a cup of tea.’

The move up to the front line was coming soon, he knew, and he promised to try to write during the 8 days he expected to be there: but he was already looking forward to the 8 days afterwards, ‘when you have freedom to walk along roads in the open air again.’

[Next letter: 11 October]