Sherriff’s general depression and listlessness continued to restrict the number and length of the letters he sent home. Having written nothing for three days he now dashed off a quick one-page to his mother, telling her that he had been innoculated, which reminded him of the same thing happening while he was in the Artists Rifles – although this time it had only given him a ‘bad arm’, and he did not feel bad ‘personally’: nevertheless the arm itself was enough to earn him a day off.

Sherriff’s younger brother Bundy, in uniform, c1918. By permission of the Surrey History Centre (Ref: 2332/6/6/5)

Training was continuing much as usual:

‘We still go on with the same old training each day with nothing exciting to tell you about – we train just as we did in England, starting at 8 o’clock with physical drill and finish about 3 o’clock after which your time is your own, to either walk into the nearest town or read or do anything. I think I told you I had a little room at a farm as my billet with quite a nice bed.’

Although his letter writing had slowed down, he was continuing to receive letters from home: ‘I got a letter from you today, dear, also one form Beryl and one from Bundy’. He told her (as he had Pips, a few days earlier), that the parcels which had come for him while he was in the rest home had been consumed by the Mess (‘I told them to if any parcels came in while I was away, otherwise they would have gone bad or any pastry etc, stale’.)

And that was where he signed off, apologising that he had to go on parade.

[Next letter: 24 February]