Sherriff told his mother that today would be their last day before moving up into the line again, but he was still hopeful that ‘it will not be long now before we go into rest for a month or so, which will be a great rest after so long in and near the front line.’

He believed he might be given a special job of training men to build dugouts:

‘I was asked by the Colonel to design a shelter as he thought my knowledge of Tunnelling would come in useful and I have sent in my design which he seems quite pleased with (or perhaps I should not be so sure about it yet, as all he has seen is the drawing, whilst the chief business is in the constructing), but still it would be very nice if I could have a free hand in making one or two of these things as it was what I should have done if my transfer to the RE had come through alright.’

James Whale’s Design for the Dugout in Journey’s End. By permission of the Surrey History Centre (Ref: 2332/6/13/4) and the David Lewis Estate.

He told her that he was finding the fine, cold weather very healthy, and that he was quite well, and hoped to remain so all the way through to his leave. On that score, however, he was rather disappointed that leave would not now be possible until he had served at least six months. ‘The reason officers have got to wait,’ he told her, ‘is because there are so many men in the Regiment who have not had leave for 12 or 14 months and they are getting them away first, as I suppose is quite fair – so let us look forward to that great time to come when I should get ten glorious days at home.’

Before ending, he thanked her for the socks he had just received in his latest parcel (which must have been delayed since she had sent it before Xmas), and told her that he hoped that ‘home has still got its dear old homely look – I should love to see the new oak table and other furniture, the place must look quite Romantic and old-fashioned now.’

[Next letter: 11 January]

Now that he was back in reserve, Sherriff had more time, so was able to write a letter to both his mother and his father today. He apologised to them both for not having been able to write long letters as he would have wished, but hoped that he would be able to do so now.

‘We are at present having a rest in reserve,’ he told his mother, ‘which gives more time for writing, although not nearly as much as I had with the RE. Still, I think it is a good thing to have plenty to do and I rather enjoy it – and I think in about a months time we are going to get a rest for some weeks – which will be a great relief after all the time you have in the trenches.’

Cutting about Dick Webb, taken from Sherriff’s Scrapbook. By permission of the Surrey History Centre (Ref: 2332/9/12)

He told them that he was unlikely to be given leave in the near future, and that he would probably have to have served at least 6 months in France before he would be considered – but since more than three months had already passed, he might not have to wait much more than a couple of months – and if one of those months was spent in rest, which he thought it might be, then so much the better. He told her he was counting the days:

‘I have a chart by which I count off the days, and I have marked off six months – let’s hope they pass safely and quickly and the  what a time we will have – it should be spring and we will have some fine rides around Oxshott and all the dear old haunts…’

His father, too, was maintaining a chart, so Sherriff advised him to begin another 90 day countdown, which, since eleven days had passed since his three-month anniversary, would now begin at 90-11, which was ‘not so bad to start with’.

He told his mother that, although he had been very sorry to leave the RE – the more energetic life he was now leading was far better for him: ‘We got very slack in our habits with the RE – breakfast in bed and all that sort of thing – which, all very well in a way, was not good for you. And when you are resting out of the line you have quite a good time, and jolly little dinner parties. We had the Doctor and another Company officer in last night and had a very nice time – it is really quite good fun, but I find work in the front line rather nerve-wracking – I am afraid highly strung people do not get on well in the line – but I must put up with it as  a necessity, and, after all, only a third of your time is spent in the front line.’

After asking her how her work at the hospital was going, he went on to thank her for her second Xmas parcel, which had contained fruits, but also a christmas pudding and cigarettes for Morris [his servant]: ‘Morris was quite touched and asked me to thank you very much indeed.’ He told his mother that he had also received a letter from Dick Webb’s father, who had  enclosed a cutting about him – ‘to lose a close friend like Dick makes you realise more what we are out here for.’

Both letters were relatively short because, as he observed, even while they were in rest there was still plenty of work to do – he had plans to draw up, and had to go off to inspect a working party, but at least he could hope that the 90 days (‘already bitten into’) until his leave would pass quickly.

[Next letter: 10 January]

The battalion left the front line the evening before, and Sherriff breathed a sigh of relief to be back in the support trenches: ‘We have now come back to have a rest for some days behind the line, so I shall be able to give you a few longer letters,’ he wrote to Pips. He apologised that there were some questions his father had posed in an earlier letter that he could not answer (since ‘they all deal rather closely with military matters’), but he could at least confirm that the Xmas pudding had arrived on time, and that Christmas was much happier than he had expected, since he had been able to spend it in his old dugout.

From Memories of Active Service, Vol I, facing page 173 (By permission of the Surrey History Centre, Ref: 2332/3/9/3/2)

He went on to explain that he had been very busy since returning to the battalion (so suddenly that there had been ‘no time for regrets’). His first two days had been spent in rest ‘cleaning up and going through the property in my valise and getting ready my stuff for going into the line’. Once they had moved up he found that the two months he had spent away had left him rather stale, but he ‘soon got into the way of things’. He found the time off duty passed ‘pleasantly’, and even on duty they had a fairly quiet time apart from the one day [New Year’s Day] when they ‘had a bad “strafing”‘.

‘You may wonder what I mean by a “strafe” – it is when Fritz gets nasty and bombards us with various missiles which go by the various and peculiar names as Whizzbangs, Minnies, Pipsqueaks, Darts etc. I may give you some idea of what it is like without giving away any information. If you are not on duty your first warning is a bump! bump! bump! up above somewhere. Ordinarily you take no notice of this, but should it become heavy your duty is to be with your men to give them confidence – this you do, and floundering along trenches full of mud with things bursting all about and little bits flying about and your feet sticking tight in the mud, things are not pleasing – but it is so unpleasant that you can’t think of anything but to get about as quickly as possible, for your job on such occasions is to see that all men have as much cover as possible…’

He also answered another question for his father: ‘You ask how near shells come to you sometimes – well, in our last “strafe”, 10 yards is about as near as you want them – that is, of course, when you are in a trench and the shell bursts over the parapet – in which case if you duck you are quite safe – yes, a bombardment from a distance is a wonderful sight which is impossible to describe’.

He went on to comment on how wonderfully the British seemed to have the upper hand in the air – ‘on a good day for flying it is nothing to see 20 or 30 aeroplanes cruising round – all ours, and only rarely do you see a German flying miles high and always being tremendously shelled.’ He looked forward to reading the Times History of the War when it was all over – it would be a good addition to his library, he felt – but ‘I will devote my first studies to earlier history’.

[Next letters: 8 January]

Sherriff’s letters home to his mother were brief. He was ‘keeping quite fit’ he wrote, but had little time to write at present:

‘I am still in the front line but will soon have more time to write you longer letters when we go into rest – at present you want as much time as possible for resting and sleeping when off duty, so you will understand, dear, why these notes are so scrappy and uninteresting. The weather is keeping remarkably good and even when it is soaking wet, we all have big thighs gum boots that keep your feet and legs quite dry.’

In a subsequent letter, dated the same day, he noted that they were now half way through their tour in the front line, and admitted that the adjustment from his previous duty was not easy:

‘Of course, coming back after two months with the RE when your time is almost your own is rather a strain at first, but it is quite useless to have wished for a longer spell with them – 2 months was quite exceptional and I still look back with pleasure on the 2 months, which were happy as could be, and soon if all goes well we should be going out for a rest behind the line somewhere and what a fine relief that will be!’

As he signed off, he told her not to worry: ‘I am with nice men and fellow officers and that is the great thing.’

[Next letter: 6 January]

‘I am now back in the line again,’ wrote Sherriff to his father, ‘and yesterday we had a pretty rough day, Fritz wanting to give us a New Year’s greeting, I suppose….[but] we survived it alright and today (up till now) we are having a quiet day.’

It was a ‘change’ to be back with the infantry, he wrote, and although he preferred the freedom and ‘greater leisure’ of the RE, he observed [stoically, as always] that it was infantry work he had come out to France to do, so there was no point in regretting things. And hopefully, in a few weeks, they would be rotated out for some rest.

He warned Pips not to expect any long letters while he was in the line, because ‘there is constant work to be done and hours of duty as well’. He went on to describe his current living arrangements:

‘At present I am sleeping in a dugout where the duties of signalling, cooking, sleeping, eating and many other functions are carried out – all the officers of the Company have their Mess together except those on duty, but we all sleep in the most convenient place for our men if we are wanted – the result is that I have had the painful necessity of intruding into the signallers’ bed and they have to sleep on the floor – it is rather unpleasant to do this but it is ordered that it should be, and I am writing this lying on a sort of shelf like [in] a ship’s cabin which is quite comfortable if it were not for the crowd in it.’

On a more optimistic note, he observed that he had now been in France for over three months, and might hope to be eligible for leave at some point (even if it was ‘not nearly in sight yet’). He thanked Pips for the long letters he had received describing his Xmas ‘adventures’, which had been very interesting. ‘I always look forward to your letters more than anything, as they bring back all thoughts of home – so please keep up these letters, Pips.’

[Next letter: 3 January]