Letters from France | Page 9

feet by eight feet, three of us have our mattress on the floor
and one more in a small room by himself. Most of the rooms lead out
of the kitchen. In the kitchen most of the servants and a few other men
hob-nob with Madame and her buxom daughter, who are Belgian
refugees, and who are very agreeable and don't seem to mind us
over-running the whole place, and soldiers coming in to their kitchen,
where they live, in all stages of dishabile, to buy huge bowls of coffee
at 1d. each. The General this morning was a cheery untidy old soul,
who reviewed the troops in an old mackintosh and gum boots and a
day's beard, or I should think the result of a bad razor. He addressed us
afterwards in an oration full of split infinitives and mixed metaphors,
welcoming us to France for a few month's holiday.
I perpetrated quite one of my best efforts to-night. I went into a shop,
where I hoped to get potted meat, and asked for "pâté en bottine,"
which being interpreted is meat in boots, which was unfortunate. Parker
then entered another shop and asked "Je desire un larabeau si vous
l'avez," which means "I want a basin, if you have one." But,
unfortunately, the good lady thought he meant not "si vous l'avez" if
you have it, but "si you lavez" if you wash. I am afraid that No. 36 was
delayed, and so it arrived at the same time as No. 37, I suppose. Read
both very carefully together and you will perchance be interested.
To-day I had an inspiration. We could not get anywhere for the men to
bathe for the last week or two and this morning I was desperate. I
believe a lot of the little friends which are said to dwell with the
soldiers are due to troops in the same conditions not having an
inspiration and so starting badly. The idea was almost too simple. I dug
four holes in the ground and pegged a waterproof sheet in it, and got

four dixifuls of hot water, so that each section of my platoon had a bath
per platoon and water not quite cold. As there was a gentle zephyr wind
blowing and a nice warm sun it was very pleasing. We have been
having topping fine weather--hardly any rain so far.
Good-night, Mother, From your loving Son, ALEC.

11TH SUFFOLKS, B.E.F.
My darling Mother,
I hope you got my last letters all right and understood them. Since
writing them I have moved, but the battalion has not. Two of us and 71
men are on a course in trench mortars. We have moved some 12 miles
further, and are, I think, about three miles from where Arthur was. We
came right up here in 'busses, and arrived here no one seemed to know
anything about us, so we had to forage round and get billets for our
men and then for ourselves. When all was settled, an officer came and
told us he had orders from his brigade to have these billets for a
battalion just coming out of the trenches, so we started off again, and
finally fixed the men up and in the end ourselves in an estaminet
(whisper it softly--a pub.) in a wee room with one large bed. We both
then slept on the bed and used the rest of the room for storing our
clothes in. The men were roused up in the night by a false alarm from
the trenches, but they did not disturb us. To-day we breakfasted at 9-0
and were lectured to in the morning and afternoon by an officer, who
came out of the trenches yesterday afternoon. This evening we went to
a fairly large town near here and had tea and dinner. At tea we found a
large major leaving the cafe and vainly looking for his cap. At length
he got the services of a waitress. "I've lost my cap" ("ton chapeau?")
"Call it what you like as long as you find it." He was rather amusing.
Dinner we had in the usual French cafe I have described before, and
returned home to bed. The other man has gone to another estaminet and
so I am sleeping alone. The house is on a slight rise, so from my
window at night I can see a huge circle with lights going up every
minute here and there--star shells, they quite light up the room, then

flashes and a boom. They have just been quite bad tempered a few
miles north of us and have been making a dickens of a row. I think it is
a nuisance that ought to be stopped, it must be quite annoying to the
people round. Now they