COU-29

B.E.F.
22^nd Jan 1916

Dear Mr Elliott,

I don't know whether a letter from the trenches is a novelty to you, but this one is being written in a dug out in the front line, written little more than 100 yards of the enemy, which in itself will explain the dirt on the paper by the time the letter is written.

Since joining the battalion I have had plenty of work in the trenches, any amount of sniping & shell fire. The beastly weather has made our trenches villainously muddy. Some places we have been in we have had the mud thigh deep. It is not ordinary decent mud, but an evil smelling slime which penetrates everything. At times I have had to relinquish my pipe because I could taste nothing but mud. However despite all its discomforts the life has an interest which amounts at times to fascination.

For instance though I may not tell you where we are I will try to give you an idea of our position where we are at present - a very nasty place & one of the worst places in this part.

Running out from our lines proper is a large salient which projects about 150 yards, the apex being just about 100 yards from the German trenches. Mining between the two sets of lines is persistent & the enemy sprung one mine which left an enormous crater just outside this salient. We have to occupy & hold this crater & a very difficult job it is at times, for the Bosche will crawl up at night & throw bombs into it. Worst of all however, is a huge bomb called a trench mortar fired from a weird contraption half gun, half catapult. This bomb weighs about 100 lbs. & is filled with a high explosive of great power. Its effect is moral rather than material for I have been ten yards away when one burst & got nothing worse than a bad fall & bad shaking. I was as a matter of fact hurled along the trench. On the last two nights the sentries have been bombed out of the crater but when I took my company in yesterday I made entirely fresh dispositions & I would like nothing better than to have our friend the enemy try one of his bombing stunts tonight. He would be a wiser but sadder man in the morning.

So many interesting things have happened which I should like to tell you of, little personal happenings, but I find it hard to make a selection. Here are two which will however, will give you an idea of what night work means & how funny it is - afterwards. One night I had to put my company into a very bad line which was not continuous but made up of isolated posts only approachable at night. This being my first visit I not unnaturally got lost half way through & wandered rather close to the sky line. I found this out when a machine gun began to play upon me. Eventually having failed to find where I was & the day beginning to break I was compelled to crawl into a shell hole & remain there all day. I was very [wild] when I found myself within shouting distance of my headquarters & quite visible to my servants but a prisoner. I spent the day in smoking, sleeping & observing but very glad when night fell again to get out of the sheltering hole into dug out. Here I had to strip & dry my clothes as well as I could for I had lain in a foot of water for 12 hours!!!

The second little incident is connected with an interesting daily function, the issue of rum to the men. Here again I had to make a journey "overland" out of the trenches that is, to two isolated posts. While going from one post to the other the Bosches saw me & fired away merrily but without result. Getting back however was a problem. To go back the way I had come was likely to mean disaster & the alternative route was down a paved roadway swept at times by a machine gun & snipers. After a little hesitation I chose the road, crawled carefully across the road & crept down in the shadow by the side of the road. With about a hundred yards to go I was seen & knowing I could not get away I loosed off my revolver at the flashes I could see. This made the other fellows keep their heads down & gave my own men a clue as to what was happening. They immediately opened fire & then I ran. Ten seconds was the best time I ever did a hundred yards in even when I was in training but my rush down that road was record breaking. Cross trenches, booby traps & wire entanglements were obstructing the way but somehow I got over them all lugging the empty rum jar as though it was a treasure rather than an encumbrance. At last I reached my trench & paused just long enough to balance before I jumped down into it. When I got down all I had of the jar was the neck, the remainder was shattered by a bullet, just as I jumped!!!

Rain, mud, exposure, irregular meals are all making me hardy. Of course I have a cold on me all the time but it is kept under control, & so is not a source of much inconvenience, but I wonder what the effect will be on my general health. At present I have no complaints, but am quite happy. I hope you are quite well & all those at home. Please give my kind regards to them all & to Miss Miller⁹⁵ & Goldsbrough.

With best wishes to yourself

Sincerely Yours,

T. Coulson