Z1360/1/37

Letter (4 sheets; 5th sheet missing in original, but text survives in transcript supplied by donor) from Wilfred Hammond, marked: 11th December (corrected from November) 1916. BEF France. My Dear People, Am writing while at the camp and have now been “out” a few days. I have received your latest parcel, with pudding and thank you for it. We will shortly get it cooked and “scoffed”. Don’t send any more butter, please! You will be interested to know that the Authorities are continually asking for applications for various jobs such as “Tanks”, Commissions, etc. The last thing that I put my name down for was Machine Gunner for aeroplanes. It is a good job, if one can “wangle” it. Bang! goes my name down now for nearly everything within reason. This letter will get slightly grimy but I, alone, have just lit a fire in an old tin and I slightly resemble that old friend of ours, the “cleanser of chimneys”. Talking of the incongruities of this game, I could not help smiling a little the other night about 10 days ago. It was Sunday night and bitterly cold and I was in the front line so off I hikes and procures some sand bags. One I folded to make a soft hat (sleeping), the next became a muffler and the next two were pulled over my boots and up my legs and that’s how I was “togged” up. What a comparison of Sundays, Eh! The next Sunday, however, being out of the line, was different. After tea we meandered (three of us) down to the village, gassing about every conceivable subject and first have a small feed. Then jingling our 10 frc. notes together (Tickle, tinkle, Crash!) we purchase a few cigars and then some beer or wine and set off back at 8 o/c. (Throwing out time!) probably singing like fools. By the way Sundays out here, after noon, are like Saturdays at home, and everything is normal. All the above purchases are made with a judicious eye, in the shops possessing the choicest Madamoiselles. At present, I am suffering from a most “unphidudelious” cough and am waiting for it to become time expired. We have the grin on one of we three in this way, we were in a Y.M.C.A. the other night after some cocoa and as per regulations we filed round in a line. As we get to the counter someone leaves a packing slip out of a packet of biscuits on the counter, I pay for the drinks and Freddy says to Chappie “Ticket”. When he gets to the cocoa depot Chappies tries to give this fellow the ticket for a cup-full of cocoa. The sight of him trying to press a Biscuit packets certificate on to an innocent chap proved too much for us and he has not yet lived it down. By the bye, it was quite an oversight on my part, when I did not thank you for the fine little pipe you sent to me, also the tobacco. I have used all the tobacco in the pipe and the pipe itself has caused a number of remarks. No more now, with love, Wilf

11 December 1916

From: 1916 To: 1916

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France, letters, service personnel, overseas (WW1), 18th Battalion King's Royal Rifle Corps, food, butter, puddings, aerial action overseas, chimney sweep, weather, coughs, boots, bank notes, money, tobacco, wine, beer, singing, YMCA, cocoa, biscuits