Letter from Edward Packe to James Packe (his brother)
Diary entry Envelope of this letter |
27.IX.14 (27th September 1914)
My dear James
I am writing a letter which I want you to pass on and it saves a lot of writing paper. Please thank Sis very much for the towel, pants, socks & cigarettes, also for your letter of the 11th & 15th. Please thank Bay & Beats very much for their packets of 50 received yesterday, also their letters of 11th & 16th, & please thank Pen very much for hers of 13th & 15th. And very much thanks to you & Ruth for your weekly packets which I have got just lately, also your letters.
I am going to tell you more or less what happened after we left Harrow, and if this letter is torn up, it can't be helped. Practically no news of us in the Papers as our General couldn't send his despatches to French in time. (Typical 'latrine' rumour). O, before I forget it, very many thanks for the Times Sept 18th received this morning; it is read by me by day, and used as a waistcoat at night and very warm it keeps me too.
We left Harrow station at 9am (21st Aug) getting in to Southampton at midnight. We embarked at 1am and loosing from thence at 8am, we arrived at our destination at 5pm, but owing to the tide did not disembark till 11pm. We were so crammed on board that we couldn't get our feet out straight.
When we had disembarked, we didn't move off till about 2am (23rd Aug) when we marched up the hell of a steep hill finally arriving at a camp at about 3.30am where we stayed till 8pm. We marched down to the Station where we hung about till 12.30am (24th) when they shoved us into cattle trucks (37 in ours), there wasn't even room to hiccough. Finally we detrained about 6.30pm and started marching about 7.30pm and went on till 12.30am (25th) when we anchored down in a village; it fell to our lot to do Outpost which meant an hour's sentry-go and sleeping on the ground instead of in a barn. We started again at 5am and marched about four miles to where we took up our position and dug small trenches in which we stayed till midday when we retreated about three miles and dug proper trenches. It than came on to rain and we were in those trenches till midnight when we fell in and marched till 5am (26th). At 6am we moved into action.
The idea being that our Brigade had to check the Germans in order that the troops who had been fighting at Mons might have a chance of retreating. We had to keep the Germans back till 4pm even if it meant the whole Brigade being wiped out. The Germans had a very good position and outnumbered us by about eight to one, and they had about forty guns to our four, where the rest of our guns were the Lord knows. Their guns had the range of our trenches to a tee, but our trenches were so blooming small that when we arrived up to the firing line there was no room for us and we had to go back again. After a bit we moved up again and halted in a sunken road about sixty yards from the top of the ridge where our firing line was.
Even there the shells were bursting round and about, and you couldn't hear yourself speak. There was supposed to be one maxim gun abut 200 yards away and the order was given us to charge, at least I believe the order was given although I never heard it, but seeing other people fixing their bayonets I did likewise and climbing out of the road started running with the rest. On reaching the top of the ridge the signal was to lie down and the one maxim 200 yards off turned out to be eight maxims 400 yards off. I was on the right of the line, which was lucky for me. Well, it isn't in the bounds of human possibility to double 400 yards in our equipment (80 lbs weight) and arrive' with the strength to shove a bayonet through a piece of paper. We were in a field of cut corn and the sheafs were piled in stooks like you see them in England and we lay down behind these. I chose one with nobody already there and simply crouched up behind it; two other people come up and crouched down too. One didn't seem to mind the bullets so much as the shells; one burst about eight yards to our rear, another took off the top of the stook we were crouching behind, two burst overhead and one pitched just in front but mercifully didn't explode and ricocheted in making a noise like an express train. After some time I saw my neighbours on my left going back to the sunken road so I did likewise, and there only ricochet bullets and bits of shell came so I took this lull to eat some chocolate Beats had given me before leaving Harrow and also got a pipe going. (Colonel Seeley has just strolled past, I thought I must put that in).
At about 2.30pm the whole Brigade was ordered to retire regiment by regiment. There was about a mile of open ground behind us slightly uphill & the point of our retirement was a village (Ligny) about a mile away with perfectly open the whole way. I and six other 'blokes' under a Corporal were sent back about 200 yards to cover the retreat of our Company. We were on the left flank with nobody on our left that I could see, and we lay in a stubble field slightly to the left as we retired & absolutely without any cover. We couldn't fire because we were afraid of hitting our own men as we had no (field) glasses and couldn't see if the people were Germans or English. Then suddenly all our troops in front started to come back at once. luckily for us they retired a bit to our left, because when they got down over the ridge, the German guns started to work and it was just like hell let loose, as you can imagine if you can picture to yourself a big open space with about 500 men scattered all over the place and shells dropping on them, 19 to the dozen.
When we retired I noticed the shells were definitely all dropping onto these people so chancing the rifle bullets I made a slight detour to the left & so avoided the worst of the shellfire. When we arrived in the village we were told off to defend various parts. The French were pledged to come to our help by 4 o'clock, but they were an hour late & it was about 5 o'clock before we retired for good.
(Later rewrite of the previous paragraph) I had noticed that on our left was another sunken road leading back to the village so when it came to the time for us to retire, I pointed this out to the Corporal and we got away down the road and so avoided the worst of the shell fire. When we got back to the village we were collected in the village square and the C.O. made a speech. He said the French were supposed to have come to our aid but hadn't, so we had to defend the village to the last man, and were to take off our packs and use them as head-cover (!) We were then told off to various points on the outskirts of the village. Nothing much happened except shelling and as it began to get dark we were withdrawn altogether. (End of rewrite)
Although we had only four guns they worked the most awful havoc on the Germans, as our shells are so very much better then theirs although their shooting is wonderfully accurate; their infantry fire is not so good.
When I started this letter I was watching the Germans amusing themselves by putting shells through a haystack about 250 yards off to our right front. The haystack had been used as an observation post by our artillery; needless to say, I have got a comfortable little hole into which to scuttle should they have the cheek to drop any of their cards our way.
The day after the battle (Le Cateau) we were having breakfast in a village when their guns caught us unaware and gave us a hot time for a bit. I counted eight shells that burst within anything from 15 to 40 yards of me. You hear the bang as the gun is fired, then you hear a sort of whistle gradually going up the scale and you can generally tell when it's coming anywhere near you and if you are wise you lie down flat as muck and wait till the shell has exploded.
After our interrupted breakfast we marched day and night, with no supply column, for ten days and had to commandeer all our food. One day we halted for three hours in a farmyard and almost before you could turn round, I and eight of my friends had a chicken, a pigeon, and a rabbit, with spuds, onions, and carrots, stewing away over a fire. It did make a good stew too.
Now, we have been having a very slack time for a fortnight as we are in an entrenched position and beyond doing Outpost every other night, we have got nothing to do (except fetching rations and water up from the village down below us in the valley) hence this long letter. Night sentry work is very exciting as you can see nothing and have to trust entirely to your ears. There are some Algerian troops on our left and they are awfully amusing. They shoot at any blooming thing that moved. One day they got tired of sitting in their trenches so they arranged an attack on their own without saying a word to their officers; so at dawn they sallied out and of course suffered enormous losses but, I believe, gave the Germans something to chew. One of them came back to our lines with a bayonet wound in his leg and one of our officers noticed that his haversack was bulging very much and also was very 'jammy'; so he asked what he had got there and the Algerian said 'Souvenir, Souvenir' and displayed in his haversack a German's head and helmet! Wasn't it really rather nice. Whether he meant to take it back to his wife or not? I don't know. Although I didn't actually see this, I saw the chap come in, and I believe it is absolutely true.
The Germans are very thoughtful and lest we get bored, they send a shell over now and again to keep us going. We sleep in holes dug in the ground just like rabbits and so manage to keep fairly warm at nights, and we get jolly good food and on the whole we are having a jolly good time, but I am looking forward to a two hour soak in a hot bath and a change into civilian clothes. Please thank Sis very much for the Bank notes, we have only had one pay allowance of 5 francs, but seeing that since I asked her for money all the shop people have fled for fear of the Germans, it is not much good. I shall not be able to send this off until tomorrow as the post has gone.
Well done your bees. I wouldn't have been the man for anything, he must have been like St Paul & the snake, & I expect you were looking like anything to see if he should have swollen up & fallen down dead. Please thank Ruth very much for her letters & also for her share in the surprise packets. I'm afraid that I have written a very 'penny dreadful' account of our adventures, but I feel so awfully sore that in that first day I was absolutely no good, and beyond being a target for those —— greycoats, I might just is well have been at home.
I was very amused much amused to see in the last week's Times an account of how "a heavy pall of black smoke hung over the cannons". As a matter of fact there is very little smoke at all and what there is, clears away very soon, and then it is white smoke. Shrapnel bursting makes a white smoke, Lyddite a yellow smoke, and Cordite a dirty brown.
The first two or three day, we were here we had French and English artillery behind us and there was very heavy gunfire going on all day for about four days, the German and English shells both passing over our heads so we know something about it. One day the Germans were firing a big gun battery (I believe about 108 lb shell) and they came over 6 at a time nearly all day. We (the infantry) were safe as houses because they were trying for our artillery and the shells were all bursting about quarter of a mile behind us.
I will try and give you a typical day at present. We have outlook by day, every other day, and night sentry every other night, and it runs to about an hour per man. We stand to arms at 4.30am (i.e. wake up and get your stuff handy in case of a morning attack). At 5.30am we light fires and a party goes down for the day's rations consisting of a little bacon, plenty of Bully Beef, sometimes bread but if not biscuit, 1 lb pot of jam between six men, cheese, and tea and sugar. We then cook our bacon and have brekker. After this, there is a fatigue party to fetch water from the village and this generally gives one an opportunity to loot some spuds. At about 11am the Mail is generally given out (for the last week at any rate). Lunch is the item of importance. The Mail goes out at 1.30pm, then Tea comes on at 4.30pm and we generally retire to our holes at about 7pm, so you see we are pretty well making up for the rough time we had to start with. Please will you thank Bay & Beats most awfully for the cigarettes for A.Coy, they have not arrived yet but I expect they will arrive sometime or other & they will be appreciated very thoroughly indeed. There is not much to tell you so I shall shut up. I only hope that you will be able to read this, it will be a bit of a job I expect.
Very many more thanks to the lot of you & best love
Your ever loving brother
Edward A Packe
Poster Army P.O. Sept 29th 1914
Passed by Censor No.105
Signed J.W.M.Vincent
Received by C.J.M.P (James Packe) Oct
Letter from O/C A. Coy to Beatrice Pelley (Edward Packe's sister)
28.IX.14 (28th Dec 1914)
Dear Mrs Pelly
Please accept the grateful thanks of A. Company & myself for the most welcome present of cigarettes & tobacco, which arrived safely this morning - both are very hard to get here & are therefore doubly acceptable.
You will be glad to hear that Packe has been doing really well & earned the good opinion of officers & men. I know the latter are really fond of him.
Once more many thanks
Yours sincerely
Lambton James Mortimer