Sherriff was in puckish mood when he wrote home to Pips: ‘Two months today I set foot on the Gallic soil…and my appearance in the war area seems in no way to have altered the situation’. He then went on, in jovial style, to congratulate Pips on the 10% bonus he had just received in his job at Sun Insurance: ‘You must be a millionaire now – I suppose you wash in white wine and give banquets to Mr Joseph and Wren every night: it means £40 odd, doesn’t it? Just enough to buy a motor bicycle.’

He was less upbeat in writing to his mother, recalling the day they had parted, those two months before, and saying that he:

‘…now realised almost for the first time how it [was] worse for you than for me when we parted…I had got so much to occupy my attention when I got to Folkestone with my luggage and tickets, and the rush for the boat and the journey on the sea, that before I knew where I was I was miles from home and [had] more things to occupy my attention – whilst you, dearie, had nothing novel to occupy your thoughts. I can picture, now, the last little glimpse I had of you out of the carriage window as the train left…’

A photo probably taken shortly before embarkation. By permission of the Surrey History Centre (Ref: 2332/6/4/2)

He carried on in this vein of reminiscence for most of the rest of the letter, telling her how much he had enjoyed the periods of leave he was given before embarking for France – the ten days ‘pending gazette’ [waiting, after passing his officer exams, to be attached to a Regiment], and the 48 hours immediately before embarkation – and in particular the walks they had taken in Oxshott woods, in Bushy Park around the Plantation, and in Richmond Park (‘Do you remember how we got absolutely every ounce out of the last days – I am afraid I used to walk you off your feet, dearie, but I know you never minded…’). And in the evenings, after returning from his afternoon rambles with his mother, he would proceed to accompany Pips on long walks, ‘stumbling along in the dark’, which were more enjoyable than ‘all the Grand Theatres put together’.

He congratulated his mother on the ‘compliment’ which the Hospital had paid her, by offering to pay for her services – £20 and all expenses paid: ‘it is very heartening to be told you are of some use…I only wish I was the man who was specially under your care – lucky man to have such a nice nurse.’

Before signing off he thanked her (as he had Pips and Bundy) for the ‘absolutely ideal parcel’ he had received – full of all of his favourites – almonds and raisins, ginger, jam roll and chocolate – ‘all the things I like more than anything else’. He considered himself very lucky to receive such fine parcels – much better than those of many of the other men, whose families put in ‘silly things like tinned sardines’, which were readily available in France. They were probably trying their best – ‘but…none have reached your standard, dear’.

[Next letter: 1 December]

Writing to Pips, he rehearsed the concerns that he had expressed to his mother the day before:

‘I have been rather busy just lately getting the men of the East Surreys cleaned up – our new Commanding Officer is always hovering round and has several times swooped down on one of my working party because they are dirty – unfortunately they are a very poor selection of men, specially sent on these working parties by their Company Commanders to get rid of them, so you can understand it is almost impossible to keep them clean. I am afraid as the Commanding Officer has spoken to them several times for being dirty he will withdraw them and send a new lot shortly (probably me included).’

He would be loathe to go because he found the work of the Engineers more interesting than  that of the Infantry, and in addition he was enjoying the quieter times in his dugout: ”When I am alone in my dugout I can read and write better than when [I] am sitting at a table with about 6 others talking 16 to the dozen.’ He had been writing some short stories, in fact,  just before the C.O. arrived, and had not yet had the chance to get back to them.

Model British infantry soldiers open fire on the French, in the opening scene of the 1977 remake of The Four Feathers. From https://wargamingmiscellanybackup.wordpress.com/category/wargames-on-film-and-tv/

The weather now had that ‘chilly, misty feeling in the air’ that showed that Xmas was coming, and he could imagine being in London, on his way home, hurrying to Waterloo along Regent Street and the Haymarket. He would far rather spend Xmas quietly, ‘with a few RE officers, than with a crowd’. But most of all he hoped that he could all spend next Xmas at home with everyone, and that they could enjoy all the old customs: ‘soldier battles on the floor, stockings full of mysterious shapes, stamp albums and cards and billiards and all the other things that make the winter evenings so dear at home’.

He had been chatting with one of the RE officers, who shared an enjoyment for cycle touring and in Roman remains. They had talked for hours at the mine about Roman roads and many other things. It was good, he felt, to meet someone with the same interests as his often – and few seemed to share his interest in ‘Antiquarian’ matters.

[Next letters: 29 November]

He began today’s letter by apologising to his mother for not having written in several days – partly because [as he had previously told Pips] he had been very busy, but also because he had come down with a bout of ‘Influenza’. He had not wanted to go no duty the previous night, but once he did so the night air had ‘braced him up’, and walking to the Quartermaster today had continued his progress, although he still had a slight cold in the head and throat. He assured his mother that she needn’t worry about him, and that he would certainly of to see the Doctor if he felt it necessary.

He had been busy because of his Battalion’s new commanding officer, Lt Col Swanton:

‘[He] is so energetic that he comes round on the quiet and sees men of the East Surreys attached to my party in a dirty condition – the reason being that they have just come back from working, and also that the selection of men sent to me are all the worst, because they want to get rid of them from the Battalion. Of course, I am blamed for their dirtiness and have probably got in his bad books, if so I expect I will go back to the Company soon…[but] I cannot tell a bit what is to happen – I must simply wait and see and trust that what does happen is for my good.’

1916 Christmas Annuals

Bundy had sent him a copy of the magazine Winter’s Pie, for which he was very grateful, and it made him think about a few of the other Xmas Annuals he should like to receive -such as Holly Leaves, and Pears’ Annual – if his mother could arrange it. He told her, as he had Pips a couple of days before, that he hoped he would stay where he was until at least Xmas, since he would much rather spend it with the RE than with his Battalion.

He ended by promising to write more assiduously in the days ahead, and by stoically accepting that the trying time he had faced recently – due to the Influenza and his C.O. – was probably just the price he had to pay for the easy days he had enjoyed earlier.

[Next letter: 28 November]

Two letters to Pips today – but the first was brief – just a quick line to let him know that he’d been busy, and that a trip to the Adjutant of the Royal Engineers would take at least a couple of hours, because he was a long walk away. He speculated that perhaps it might have something to do with his application for a transfer. But when he wrote again upon his return to his dugout he seemed rather disappointed that it had only been about a problem with the men’s pay.

Another dugout – this time from the Broadway production of Journey’s End, 1929. By permission of the Surrey History Centre (Ref: 2332/6/3/1/1)

He apologised to Pips for not having written for the past 4 days, but he had been much busier, fitting out the men with new clothes, and visiting more places during his nighttime tours of duty, so that he felt drowsier during the day, and was inclined to sleep rather than write his letters: ‘But I must in future see that the proper supply of correspondence is kept up’.

The work was still going well, and he was still quite enjoying it. He had heard that, the next time the Battalion came out of the line [they had gone back in the previous day, relieving the Queens Regiment in Hulluch] the men in his party were to be relieved, but he was not yet sure whether that would apply to him as well, although he hoped not. He also had not heard about his possible transfer to the RE, but he was occupying his time in studying his mining books, so that if he were sent to them on probation he would ‘know something of the job’. One of the other advantages of the RE, he thought, was that they gave better leave than the Infantry, so that if he transferred he might be able to get home sooner.

He thanked Pips for the contents of yet another parcel: ‘You struck exactly the right things…ginger, almonds and raisins, and chocolate and ye olde Turner Peppermints are appreciated more than  anything else…’. He noted that Christmas was just a month away, and commented that: ‘although lonely, I should like to look forward to spending Christmas here rather than with the Battalion. I am sure we should make ourselves pretty comfortable.’

[Next letter: 27 November]