Sherriff had just finished the second day of the slow march back to the front, when he wrote a brief letter home to Pips:

‘I wish I had more time to write to you, but at present our hours are so split up by night marching that it is difficult to get a good opportunity…We march from about 2:00 till 9:00 in the morning to avoid the sun – today we got in at 9:30 and had breakfast about 10:00 (omelettes made of ducks eggs) and after inspecting the men’s feet, rifles etc, turned in about 12:00 and slept till 4:00 in the afternoon.’

He had slept on the floor of the Mess which was located in a large farm house – and he had settled down into an old-fashioned recess, ‘something like those between walls at Hampton Court’. After they had awoken and had tea, there had been time for a stroll into town (they were billeted near Caestre, which Sherriff described as ‘an interesting though old place’). He was writing to Pips just after finishing an early dinner – and apologised that the note must be short, because they had another early start the next morning. Nevertheless, he assured his father that he would ‘endeavour to find more time to write tomorrow’.

[Next letter: 20 July]

‘I think today is our last day here,’ wrote Sherriff to his father, ‘after a very pleasant 10 days of it – the great advantage is to be away from the Battalion and all ceremony – guards etc – which go with it – the men have had more freedom and sports’.

They would all be sorry to move, he wrote, especially since it was pretty obvious that they would be moving into the line again – still, he realised there was no point simply in wishing himself out of it. He cautioned Pips that there might be times when he would find it impossible to write home for perhaps several days – but he would never fail to write when he had the opportunity: ‘You will simply have to wait and should anything recur you are quickly warned officially even of wounds etc., but I trust that I shall always be in such a favourable position as to write regularly.’

The countryside around them was very beautiful, and he had taken several very pleasant evening strolls while there – the landscape reminded him of the South Downs, and the weather had been quite perfect – breezy and sunny. He had had several opportunities to visit the nearby large town [St Omer], but he had preferred the quiet lanes and towns to a busy town – perhaps because of the lovely quiet time he had enjoyed while home on leave: ‘It will be a long time before I forget those beautiful rides around Worcester Park and Oxshott and our quiet walks in the park and river trips’.

He remarked again about the cricket they had enjoyed while at the School: they had their own bats and stumps, and gloves had been provided by W. J. Abel (an ex-Surrey player, whose more famous father – Bobby Abel – had also played for the County). The games had been ‘pleasant and exciting’ and Sherriff was obviously pleased with his scores of 14, 13 and 23.

He closed with the hope that all would go well with their next trip up the line, and that he would be out again in a month or so, and able to enjoy cricket and quiet walks once more. Then he had to go: he had an inspection in a few minutes, and ‘3 o’clock will see us on the road again in the morning.’

[Next letter: 18 July]

‘Today is Sunday,’ wrote Sherriff to Pips, ‘and we have had a fairly easy time’. He was still at the Officers’ Training School, so had little work to do. Today he had spent his time playing cricket: ‘I scored 23 – mostly from swipes which are the chief method of scoring on the ground at our disposal’. Sadly, though, it was unlikely to last – he expected to be moving on in a couple of days: ‘I am afraid we are returning to work again (which, after all, is all I suppose we are here for, much as I dislike it).’

Cricket was important to Sherriff throughout his life. Here he is (on ground, second left) with the Hollywood Cricket Club in the mid-30s. Other notables include Boris Karloff (middle row, second left), C Aubrey Smith (middle row, middle), and Ronald Colman, (middle row, third right). By permission of the Surrey History Centre (Ref: 2332/6/6/12/6)

He had received a letter from Pips telling him about the ‘aeroplane attack’ in London [the Germans were no longer using only Zeppellins] – Sherriff confessed that he had felt a bit ‘uneasy’, knowing that they had flown over the city.

He was continuing with his reading, turning often Marcus Aurelius, especially when he felt miserable; in happier times Scott was his author of choice. But Alice in Wonderland was still his favourite – in fact he had already lent it to two other officers: ‘it is so delightfully fresh and humorous that no one can fail to appreciate it.’

That was all for today’s letter – he promised a longer one later, but in the meantime, as it was a beautiful day, ‘I am going for a quiet country walk’.

[Next letter: 16 July]

In his latest letter home to Pips, Sheriff remarked on how much he was enjoying himself:

‘My Company is used by the school for training purposes, so we ourselves do not have a very hard time, we have to be responsible for the cleanliness of the men generally, and see to their camp etc., and apart from a few parades we have quite a good time.’

He had been back with the Company for about a week now, and expected they would leave the training school in a few days.

They had been engaging in a good deal of sports of late. Two days before (on 11 July) he had taken about 30 men over to run in the Battalion sports. He said little about the day, since he had told his mother about it in a separate letter [one which has not survived], but we know from the Battalion diary just how elaborate and successful the day was:

Yesterday (12 July) there had been a cricket match between Sherriff’s Regiment and the Officers’ Training School, in which Sheriff had played a useful part: ‘I had the luck to stay in for some time by dint of much blocking and scored 13’ (out of a total of 40). The School made about 80 for 6 – but it was hardly a surprise that they were better, since they had a couple of County players playing for them (‘Abel the Surrey cricketer – son of the famous Abel – and one of the Hearns of Middlesex’). But he had enjoyed the game despite the loss.

Earlier on, before writing his letter, there had been more sports at the School, so they were having a lot of fun, as he put it. But then? he asked.

‘Off we go – where? No one knows. But just lately I have watched the papers carefully and I try and read in them hopeful signs – sometimes however hopeless.’

[He may have had an inkling that something big was in the offing, because the previous day the Battalion had received a draft of 46 Other Ranks from the base, following on a draft of 69 two days before that.]

He concluded by noting how beautiful the weather was, and how pleased he was that the days would soon be shortening (‘I prefer night out here’) – above all, though, he hoped for an end to ‘these continuous hopeless weeks – even when you are having sports you can never properly be happy with the trenches always in the back of your mind’.

[Next letter: 15 July]

Sheriff opened his letter to Pips with a pang of regret: ‘This time last week we were just cycling past Oxshott Station on our way home to dinner – how I wish I was doing it again, although it is not much use wishing.’

On the brighter side, however, officers now seemed to be going home on leave more frequently, so he hoped that he would ‘be on the way again safely in six months time, or before that if the war is over sooner’ (a remark conditioned by recent rumours of a peace talk in Berlin, which Sheriff hoped would ‘lead to something definite’).

His company was still at the Officers’ Training School, so he was having a fairly easy time. he hoped it might last another 8 or 10 days. He had read about the recent air raid in London, and wondered if Pips had seen anything of it (‘If you were in the City at the time you probably did’). The easy time he was having gave him the opportunity to read more, and he now had a good stock of books, including one sent to him by an old friend from the Artists’ Rifles – a book called Over Bremerton’s, by E V Lucas: ‘it promises well’ he wrote.

The other book he was reading (or re-reading) at the moment was Alice in Wonderland, which to his mind was ‘the finest book ever written: I consider it is always fresh if I read it ten times.’ [And certainly it stuck with him, because it crops up on several occasions in his letters, as well as in his published writing – including Journey’s End itself – and in screenplays such as Mrs Miniver].

And with that he signed off, for the next day the Battalion Sports were being held, and he and some of the Sergeants and men went for a training run every night in preparation. He promised to tell Pips all about it – and about his cricketing exploits – in a future, longer, letter.

[Next letter: 13 July]

In his previous letter Sheriff had told Pips about his return to the Battalion – now he let him know what happened after he got there:

‘After sleeping a night with them I journeyed on by a cart to join my Company, which is now away from the rest of the Regiment [near St Omer, although he cannot say so], attached to a school for training purposes – I am hoping our rest out here may last for a period of ten days or so – you cannot tell though, as I have often said before, but just at present we are in a very nice country a good distance from the line and it was rather nice to find them out here as it breaks the journey back to the line which I trust will not take place for a bit.’

They were living in tents, and messing with the officers from the school in a large marquee – and he rather missed the comfort and privacy of his own bedroom.

Although he was happy not to be back near the front line, he was nevertheless feeling the effect of being back again. His days in England had been some of the happiest he had ever spent – the weather had been perfect, and everything they had done had been successful. He was pleased that Pips had been able to take some holiday time, so that he could spend the days equally between his two parents. He hoped that his next leave would be as successful, and that he would soon be home again (‘I hope permanently’).

[Next letter: 11 July]

‘I am writing this to you from a school where my Company is,’ Sherriff told his mother. ‘The men  [are] being used for various fatigues etc, so till now we have not had much work to do.’

In fact, ‘C’ Company had been lent by the Battalion to an Officers’ Training School near St Omer, while the Battalion remained in rest billets around the town of Fromentel, training in ‘saluting, squad drill, musketry (including range firing), route marching, extended order and the training of platoons, companies and battalion for offensive action.‘

Sherriff, however, was able to ease back into army life:

‘We are in nice country and are not overworked at present – I cannot say how long we are out resting for – it may be, I hope, for a fortnight – but you cannot tell at all: it was rather nice to come back and find them out like this as it would have been wretched to have gone up the line straightaway.’

It was a beautiful day, and he found himself wondering what he would have been doing at this time in England (‘I imagine we would now just be getting ready to go on the river’). He did not feel as miserable as he had when he first returned from leave (when he had felt ‘most dejected after such a glorious time’), and understood that he was bound to feel some reaction after so many days of ‘absolutely uninterrupted happiness’:

‘I went away feeling that nothing on earth could have made our holiday happier than it was – I absolutely cannot describe how I enjoyed it (in words) but I am sure you know yourself that we could have done nothing to equal what we actually did if we had it all over again.’

Unlike the previous day he did not end by cautioning her about the length of time they would need to wait for his next leave [further suggesting that he had begun to accommodate himself to being back with the Battalion once more]; instead he just promised a longer letter very soon.

[Next letter: 8 July]

Now on his way back to the Battalion after a very welcome ten days’ leave, Sherriff found time to write letters home to both his mother and father.

In his letter to Pips he set out the details of the trip he had just taken. After arriving at Folkestone at 10:00 in the morning the previous day, he had been told that his ship did not leave until 1:15pm, which – despite his feeling ‘very miserable’ – had given him time to walk around town and do a little bit of shopping (as he had told his mother the day before). It was raining and drizzling intermittently so he had gone to the boat a little earlier than he needed. Once it sailed he gave himself the chance of ‘a farewell gaze at the White Cliffs’ before retreating down to the Cabin to read.

Arriving in France at 3:30pm, he found he had nearly twelve hours to kill, since his train was not due to leave until 4:00am. He went to the hotel he had stayed at when going on leave, and booked a room for the night, before whiling away a few hours strolling around town, having tea and visiting the local picture theatre. After dinner he took another stroll, during which he thought of ‘the glorious time I had in England (which now seems more like a trip to wonderland)’.

Percy High (rear left, with pipe). From ‘Memories of Active Service’, Vol 1, facing p 22. By permission of the Surrey History Centre (Ref: 2332/3/9/3/2)

He woke at 3:00am and went to the station, but found the train was delayed an hour. After a couple of hours travel he changed trains, and was eventually deposited at ‘a small village station’ from where he had a long walk to rejoin his Battalion. He still was not back with his Company, however, for they had been billeted elsewhere.

He told his mother none of this – merely that he had written to Pips about it, and if she wanted to know the details she could read it herself (‘if Pips lets you’, he cautioned – rather curiously). Instead his letter to her was one of longing and sorrow, and gratitude for the wonderful time he had enjoyed in England:

‘Needless to say, I felt very miserable at leaving dear – I had one of the most enjoyable times I have ever had – and those ten days passed like a beautiful dream. I have little fits of feeling miserable – sometimes while I was going for a walk with [Percy] High this evening I caught little glimpses of country that reminded me so much of home, that I simply hated this country – which seems so vastly inferior in every way. As I look back to [those] days I feel there is absolutely nothing that we omitted to do, and I am so glad, dear, that we spent them so happily with nothing to mar them – all I hope now is that everything will be just the same when I come home again – and I simply hope that will not be so very long. One of the most delightful parts of my holiday was to find everything and everyone just the same – to find everyone keen to do all the old things again and all our old haunts looking just the same.’

He thanked his mother for everything she had done to make his leave ‘absolutely beautiful’, and hoped that he would soon have the chance to pay her back for everything she had done. But he was aware, too, that it might be a while before they saw each other again:

‘Now dear, there is only one thing to do and that is to start our weary wait again and look forward to the time when the whole wretched affair is over and to my turn for leave again.’

[Next letter: 6 July]

His leave at an end, a disgruntled Sheriff wrote to his mother from the boat. He had arrived at Folkestone with a couple of hours to spare and had left his pack at the parcel office so he could walk around for a bit. He did not feel ‘in the best of spirits’ he told her, but he had bought himself a few things, including a tobacco pouch. He had tried to find a picture she might like, but had no luck, finding they were all of the ‘silly sort’.

Photo of a troopship, taken from Sherriff’s Memories of Active Service, Vol 1, facing page 6. (By permission of the Surrey History Centre, Ref: 2332/3/9/3/2)

He had had a splendid time at home, he told her, but returning to the Front was ‘absolutely wretched’. He did not know where he would be that evening, but he hoped it would be somewhere that he could write nice long letters back to both his mother and Pips. He hoped that she was well, that she would make up her mind to be as happy as possible in her hospital work, and that the time would pass quickly until he was due to see her again.

[Next letters: 5 July]