Just beginning his eighth month in France, Sherriff, still with his Battalion, and well back from the front line, seemed contented:

‘Today is one of the most perfect days of the year – absolutely cloudless sky and almost hot sun, which is a very good sign of coming summer. I am orderly officer today and have been sitting censoring letters, and have been out listening to the Band, which has been playing on the village green (if such a substitute for the English Green can be so called). Quite a crowd turned up, including the Colonel and two or three staff officers.’

The weather made training much more pleasant, and greatly cheered up the men. His men were billeted in a barn in the farmyard right opposite his Mess, which was the main room of the farmhouse, and above which was the room where he was billeted. They were mainly sitting in the sun, writing letters, or – in the case of a few conscientious ones – cleaning their rifles.

As he was watching, a can of tea had been brought out and the men were lining up with their canteens. On the whole, he reckoned, they were well supplied with food:

‘They have bacon and bread, butter, jam and tea at 7:00 in the morning. A good stew at 1 o’clock and tea at 4 o’clock. Besides anything they may wish to buy with their own money, such as eggs etc. Every farm has a lot of fowls and consequently no lack of eggs.’

And with that,apologising that he was required to go and inspect the guard, he signed off, promising another letter ‘as soon as possible’.

[Next letters: 30 April]