During October 1943, Lawrence (Lawrie) Franklyn-Vaile wrote another ten letters home to his wife Olive.
In the first letter of the month, Lawrie describes the days in early October that 1 Royal Irish Fusiliers (the Faughs) spent relaxing in Taranto (although the town is not named). He describes his first impressions of the difficult state of life for Italian civilians and his experience of shopping for some gifts to send home to his wife. This quiet period quickly became a distant memory as the Irish Brigade sailed from Barletta to front line action as they joined the successful defence of the Termoli bridgehead.
At this time, Lawrie is promoted to Captain and takes over as Second in Command of B Company and the rest of the letters during the month describe the various patrolling activities undertaken by the Faughs as the Irish Brigade push forward northwards towards and across the River Trigno. Lawrie comments on the close camaraderie he enjoys with his Company Commander Dennis Dunn and fellow officers Denis Haywood and John Glennie.
As the month continued, there is an increase in fatigue levels as the battalion holds onto an exposed position to the north of the Trigno and Lawrie’s letter of 29th October describes the calamitous result of the Faughs’ actions during the night of 27th/28th October as they and the London Irish Rifles attacked towards the hill top town of San Salvo.
Lt-Colonel Butler DSO, CO 1 RIrF.
1st October.
My Dearest Olive,
I am now able to tell you that we are in Italy. We arrived at a certain port (1 RIF disembarked in Taranto on 25 September) and found conditions not at all good in the town. Practically all the shops were empty of stock and the food and water situation appeared fairly acute. We camped outside the town for a couple of days and then moved forward. I was fortunate in journeying by road with the CO (the war diaries of 1 RIF say the battalion set off for Barletta on the Adriatic coast on 28/29 September, mainly by train).
We had a stop for about three hours in a very pleasant town. The streets were full of people, the shops were doing a busy trade, and, except for a few people in uniform, one would never have dreamt of a war. The two COs went off together and Frankie Lyness, who is IO of the London Irish, and I wandered around together. We had several ice creams and very delicious they tasted and had quite a good lunch. I bought two pairs of silk stockings – at least I hope they are, and the girl assured me they were, but language difficulties did not help the sale. Also, I had the problem of what size you took.
Apparently stockings are rationed here because the girl asked for coupons and as we obviously had none, an Italian obligingly stepped forward and gave us his coupons, which seemed a particularly generous action. I am forwarding them under separate cover. You had better send me a list of things you would like and when the opportunity arises, I will see what I can buy. Let me have sizes and colours for such things as gloves.
All the Italians in this town seemed most friendly and obliging. The women appear a much better type than the men – some of the girls were very pretty and very well dressed and were obviously quite modern misses. I thought several times how much I wished you were there with me, darling. We were very sorry to depart from a town, which with a few alterations might well have been a good class English seaside resort. It took us away for a few hours from the discomforts of our normal existence.
Other Italian towns we have passed are very dirty and the stench is appalling. The sanitation seems to be of the most primitive kind and most of the people look very dirty. They continue to be most friendly and, whenever one stops in a car, you can be assured of having swarms of people around you in a minute. The children are quite attractive but many are suffering from sores. The streets are rather narrow and winding and the people, judging by the way in which they cross, appear unused to much traffic. The main roads are very good.
At present, our main trouble is mosquitoes which are very bad around here and are most vicious. Immediately the sun starts to set, they come out and keep up a series of determined attacks. During the day, the flies are as bad as ever and the heat is still intense although it is a trifle cooler in the evening.
Remember little Hill, the good looking youngster who asked you for a dance and talked about my route march prowess. He was with this battalion but has been sent home minus an arm. Also, Teague, the very small lad who used to fetch my kit when I was orderly officer in Omagh, has been sent home stone deaf. The romance and glory of war seems singularly lacking out here.
I hope the dogs are well and active and not causing too much trouble. I miss you all terribly and it will be marvellous to you again.
All my love, precious – to you and Valerie.
Your adoring husband
Lawrence
7th October – Near Termoli.
My Dearest Olive,
As you will see from the above, I have regained my Captaincy which I am sure you will feel is very satisfactory. I must admit I am very pleased about it and it is nice to once again to be referred to as ‘Captain’. Hence, I am no longer IO – the CO told me this morning he was making me second in command of ‘B’ Coy and giving me a captaincy and he was nice enough to say he felt it would not be long before I was in command again. He told Dennis Dunn, my new coy commander, that although he was well satisfied with me as IO, he felt I was happiest in a rifle coy and having commanded a coy for a long time it was only fair to give me the opportunity again. The four rifle Coy Commanders are now all Majors so Dennis Dunn and Denis Hayward have just been promoted to that rank. Dennis Dunn has had a meteoric rise as he was a 2/Lt a year ago but he had done very well since he came out here in February. The CO said to me ‘Of course you are very senior to Dunn, but the only thing that can be said is that he has had the battle experience’. I said I did not mind in the slightest and was very glad to serve with him. But Dennis definitely deserves his promotion and he is just as quiet and modest about it as ever. He really is a great fellow.
The gap since the last letter is due to the fact that I have just had my first battle experience (1 RIF boarded landing craft in Barletta in the morning of 5 October and landed in Termoli that evening). I cannot say a great deal about it, except that I came through quite alright. A bullet whisked across my hand and left a slight scar but there was no other. It was rather grim but also rather exciting. In the first place the Germans launched a sharp surprise attack on the area occupied by my company (this appears to have occured on 6 October). Dennis Dunn was back with the CO and I had to get the company out to a new position. The Germans moved very fast and nearly cut us off and we had the pleasant experience of crawling down a shallow ditch with bullets zipping over our heads and banging up against the brick wall behind. Every now and again, the ditch was blocked and we had to get up and make a run for it. I extracted the coy from this highly unpleasant position without a single casualty which was pleasing. Subsequently we put in a very successful attack. The ‘Faughs’ put up a great show as per usual. I was very glad to find I kept extremely cool through out and never felt the slightest feeling of panic. John Glennie got a bit of shrapnel in the neck but carried on and did very well. He told me afterwards that he never really worries about it – if he gets it, well it is just too bad. He said the only thing he would not like would be for Mrs Vaile to be bereaved. I like him immensely but he is a hard hearted Ulsterman not much given to sentiment although I think he has a soft spot for me, if for very little else. The other night we had a nasty journey forward. I arrived in some way behind with a rear party and when I came in, he caught both my hands in his and squeezed hard for a moment and then let go with rather an embarrassed laugh and teased me about where I had been.
The hot weather has broken and we are now having a lot of rain, which does not make nights in the open very pleasant. All the dust has been churned up into mud but the flies and mosquitoes are just as bad as ever and obviously up near the enemy, it is not very practical to sleep under mosquito nets. We took some Germans prisoners and a very dejected lot they were, only too anxious to help in any way and nothing of Prussianism or Nazism about them. It is curious how impersonal one feels – no feelings of hate towards them just a matter of doing the job on hand.
Don’t worry, darling. I have faith in my lucky star, all the time the battle was on, I felt I was coming out alright.
All my love and kisses to my own most precious wife and darling daughter.
Lawrence
10th October.
My Dearest Olive,
At long last a letter has arrived from you – the airgraph you sent in immediate reply to my first letter from this battalion. I cannot say how pleased I was to receive it, although I would dearly have loved to have had more news than could be put in an airgraph. I hope you will send an airmail letter every few days as they seem to be the best means and can contain quite a lot of news. There are still dozens of things I want to know – how you fixed up things regarding Charmouth Road, as apparently you have not gone to the Vailes and numerous other items of news which I hope will arrive in time although it will probably be a long time before the letters addressed to North Africa turn up – that seems to be the usual fate. If I have read your letter once, I must have read it twenty times.
You will be pleased to hear that my Captaincy has been back dated to Sept 6th, the day I joined the battalion, which is most satisfactory and very decent of the CO. He seems to rather like me. It means an extra £6 10/- which is all to the good although don’t go rushing along and cashing a cheque on the strength of the entire amount because it will probably be months before Lloyd’s start crediting my Captain’s pay – the other people tell me that is the usual fate as there seems to be a long time lag before they are informed. However, it will all be there eventually and I am very anxious we should have a really good balance when I return. So far since I left home, I have only drawn £4 10/- and of that I still have £2 10/- left.
We are up in a defensive position and Coy HQ is in an old cowshed. The first night, we were absolutely bitten alive by fleas, although we were exhausted after the battle and, in any case, Dennis Dunn and I had to be awake half the night as we just could not sleep. They crawled over us in their thousands and became so fat on our blood that catching and killing them became the simplest matter as they did not even have the energy to jump away. Still, they had plenty of reinforcements. The following day by the most liberal use of “Flit” and by way of completely cleaning the stable we managed to improve matters somewhat and are able to get some sleep.
We have been subjected to intermittent shelling but one soon learns when a shell is coming close and it is necessary to “duck” or when it is going further away. The Brigadier asked me how I enjoyed my first battle – he is very “cock-a-hoop” over yet another great success for the Irish Brigade.
I like this Company very much and get on very well with Dennis Dunn. John Glennie, who has been with the Company since he arrived with the battalion, told me that I have made a very good impression with the men. He said the sergeant told him that the manner in which I extracted them from the nasty position the other day and stayed behind to the last myself was very favourably commented upon and I have certainly noticed an atmosphere of good will towards myself.
So my dear little Valerie is 19 months tomorrow. I am very glad she is making good progress and although it is probably trying at times, it is good to know that she has a will of her own. I was amused to read that she is even trying to put on her own shoes. How I wish I could see you both again. It would be much more pleasant than this Sunday morning with flies crawling everywhere and a strong stench.
Still we keep cheerful and have some good laughs.
All my love, my darling little wife.
Lawrence
12th October.
My Dearest Olive,
Received your first airmail dated 28/9 yesterday, it arrived one day after the airgraph, a clear indication that airmails are better in every way, and much quicker and contain much more news. I hope you will try and send one every couple of days, because they are most welcome out here. I write one as often as possible, as although we only get an issue of one per week, at present I have a reserve. I am very sorry you have been having so much trouble over accommodation. The offer of your Uncle Harry sounds an extremely good one and would be a tremendous help. Where we live afterwards is in the lap of the gods but, in the meantime, it would give you somewhere to live and if we live somewhere else after the war it would be easy enough to sell it. I leave it entirely to you as you are on the spot but if you take his offer, it will have my full approval.
I am sorry you have been rather short of money. It sounds as if the extra 1/6 per day from the middle of June, that should be credited to my account, has not been done. However, the October payment should completely square matters and when my Captain’s pay is credited, there should be quite a nice balance. Valerie certainly sounds a handful, but I expect she will improve in time. I would dearly love to see her again. Your letters sent to North Africa have not yet arrived so there is rather a gap which I am anxious to fill and all kinds of news I want to know.
At present we are having a quiet time. This town has changed hands and we have a grim example of the ruthlessness of war. All business is completely at a standstill – there is no electric light or water and the only thing that seems to flourish are hairdressing saloons and wine shops. I have never seen a more dejected and miserable looking place. We have billets, which in normal times we would consider fairly ghastly but at present appear luxurious after our experience in the field. There are now only three officers in the company, Dennis Dunn, John Glennie and myself and we have got a bedroom in a house and thanks to our training have managed to make ourselves fairly comfortable. At present, all three of us are sitting around a hurricane lamp writing letters. We are lucky to have the lamp – it gets dark here about 6pm and usually we have to retire to bed about 7. Still the sleep is welcomed because up near the enemy, we have to be awake a good deal of the night.
I saw Denis Hayward this afternoon for the first time for nearly a week – he is very fit and well and asked for all the news about you. He is coming to dine with us tomorrow night. I had a talk with Williams the other day – he asked after you and talked of the happy days at Ballykinler. He is a Courier Driver.
The weather is very much cooler and I feel very fit and well except that the skin under my toes has all rubbed out and consequently they are very sore and raw. Also the skin between the toes is also completely raw. I think it must be due to the tremendous amount of perspiration combined with the wearing of the boots for long periods without a change.
I hope you are managing to send the “New Statesman” and “Tribune”. Would you like to add the “Daily Worker”? No reason why the newsagent should not send the two weeklies and six dailies in one bundle each week and it is only 1/6 per week. Everyone out here gets papers sent to them and I want to keep up to date in that particular line.
Don’t worry, darling, and look after yourself. Keep up your spirits and look forward to the day when we will be together again.
All my love
Lawrence
14th October.
My Dearest Olive,
Received another airgraph dated 25/9, I wish you would send airmails instead as they are quicker and contain more news. The airgraph seems a waste of money under the circumstances, unless it so happens that it is impossible to secure airmails. I hope you will secure the type of house you want and let me know the arrangements you are making with your uncle and if you need extra money. I will tell Lloyd’s to transfer a larger amount to your account but tell me which branch you are banking with now. Whatever we do about the house after the war, it will be nice to feel there is somewhere to come back to. So “Nelly” let you down right to the last – well it’s no use wasting paper making comments. There is still the gap of over a month in your correspondence so I don’t know as yet how you eventually managed to get rid of her, where she went and all that happened during that time. It was very decent of Mrs Grant to pay her costs under the circumstances – they have behaved very well and I kick myself for not having accepted the earlier offer. I am very sorry Renee has been so ill again – actually I had written an ordinary letter to Susan about a month ago so she should just about have got it by now.
We are having a quiet time at the moment, resting after the last engagement. We have managed to get all our company under cover in a railway station and what was, once upon a time, a station hotel. The three of us have a room in what appears to be an apartment house and, with our batmen in another room, are quite comfortable, sleeping in proper beds which are quite alright except for a few fleas and actually having a wardrobe and wash stand which makes us feel quite civilised. At any rate, it has enabled us to get clean and gets all our clothes washed as they needed it fairly badly.
Last night, we entertained a few guests to dinner. Denis Hayward, Douglas Room, Toby Jewell, Maginnis and a few others turned up and we had a very pleasant evening. John and I went on a scouting expedition during the day visiting the various farms in the district and we managed to purchase a turkey, two chickens and some eggs. The turkey cost 5/- ! The farms around here are very small and poverty stricken and the people must barely eke out an existence. Quite a number speak a certain amount of English, due to the fact that at some time in their lives they have lived in America. One house we went into was certainly an experience – one half of the living room was occupied by an old woman cooking something over a fire, the other half was occupied by a cow and a donkey and, while we were present, the cow obligingly passed water a few inches from the food. It is pleasant to know that the Italians are now our allies – although from what I have seen of their soldiers they will be precious use as fighters. A poorer lot can hardly be imagined. The only consolation is the effect it may have on the morale of the Germans knowing that their former much boosted partner in the Axis is now fighting against them.
Denis Hayward and I have just been for a 30 mile ride. I drove the Jeep a part of the way and it was nice to have the feel of the wheel once again. The Jeep is a little strange at present as it is a left hand drive and the brake is uncomfortably close to the accelerator, but one quickly picks up the old habits again.
The weather is quite cold all of a sudden although I am still wearing my shorts. The sky is grey and cloudy and it is quite like an English October. It does manage to reduce the flies a bit.
All my love and kisses to you and Valerie, darling. I am looking forward to some more snaps.
Your devoted husband
Lawrence
17th October.
My Dearest Olive,
We are still having a fairly quiet time after our recent exertions but how much longer it will last, I cannot tell you. Our quarters, except for the fleas, continue to be quite comfortable, but we have been unable to clear our bedroom completely of these wretched creatures. For some reason, they seem to concentrate upon one individual at a time – yesterday, John woke up an absolute mass of bites and the previous night Dennis Dunn had been given rather a bad time and last night was my turn. However, I am beginning to get so used to them that I am not disturbed to any great extent. Otherwise, we are a very happy trio. Dennis and I hit it off extremely well and John keeps us alive with his youthful spirits. Everything tends to be more violent out here – life is painted in richer and darker hues and ones loves and hates are all of a much more vigorous nature.
I am very glad you wrote to Denis Hayward – he greatly appreciated your letter. He has a very high regard for you and always refers to you as “my good friend Olive”, and seems to think you are the fountain of all wisdom. You must try and not worry more than you can help. I do feel that wives have very much the worst end of the stick – you read accounts of battles and wonder whether we are participating in them. We, at least, know when we are fighting and when we are not – however, remember a lot of time is spent not in actual contact with the enemy and far more time is spent out of real danger than in it.
We entertained the new second in command (Bala Bredin) to dinner last night. He is RUR. and a very brilliant and intelligent man. He has won the MC and bar, and served with Brigadier Wingate back in Palestine. Edward Gibbon and Jerry Cole were also our guests and we had a very pleasant evening and the best conversation I have had since my arrival. The ordinary talk of a group is very trite – it seldom gets away from the war in its smaller aspects and if it does, usually consists of running other people down but last night we ranged all over the world and I, as you may guess, provided the opposition to the general view. However, it was all very friendly. Of course Denis Haywood and I have had many a fine discussion and John tentatively explores the world with me.
Who do you think is about 40 miles away? None other than our old friend Jimmy Geddes, who is now in charge of some PW Camp. Bass met him and Jimmy is talking about trying to get up and see the Bttn. It would be great to see him. Dennis Dunn had a letter from Graham Salmon, who asked if he had contacted me. Graham has a staff job in Scotland. Dawson was still without a job although keeping his Majority. I hope they don’t send him because I am aiming for that Majority.
Frank Higgins was in this Company before he went to Brigade and Dennis Dunn thought very highly of him and was going to promote him to sergeant. He said the CO has a very soft spot for Frank and sent him to Brigade because he thought he deserved a rest after his good work.
I hope some more letters will be arriving soon, darling. I am looking forward to the snaps of Valerie. Hope the dogs are fit and well.
All my love and kisses, most precious little wife.
Lawrence.
19th October.
My Darling Olive,
Received your letter dated 6/10 yesterday so it came fairly quickly. The previous letter had been dated the 22/9, so I presume there are some in between as I hope you are managing to write every couple of days and airmails at that as letters here are water to a man dying of thirst. Even if there is little news, it is very nice to hear from you and read all about what Valerie is doing, although it gives me something of a heartache at times. She certainly seems to be making great strides. I am glad you are among pleasant people with the Benningtons but I hope you will get the house soon. I expect the dogs were very pleased to have you with them again.
The CO was talking to me about Omagh the other night and he asked what had happened to “that punch drunk fellow,….”. Poor Geoffrey, I hear he may be coming out here shortly, but I am afraid he will get a poor welcome at this battalion, he is not the type to appeal to our CO, who is a positive devil for fighting and the coolest man I have ever met. Even the most critical situation leaves him completely unruffled and we have had a few of them in recent times.
John and I had dinner with an Italian family the other night. He was rather taken with the daughter, a dark attractive girl of about 21, who was a very intelligent school teacher, although she is not doing much teaching with everything completely disorganised. She spoke fluent French and he speaks quite good French so she translated for her family and he translated for me, so it worked quite well. They have very little knowledge of what is happening in the war. There are no newspapers and, as the town is deprived of electric light and batteries unobtainable, they get the vaguest news. They did not know that Naples had fallen. They expressed the utmost contempt for Mussolini – one wonders how he was ever in power, if one was to believe all the people who now run him down. They refused to comment on Badoglio but we got the impression that they did not think that much of him. Asked why they went to war with America, they shrugged their shoulders and blamed the politicians. There was complete ignorance regarding Russia. I asked John what they thought of the war in Russia and the first reply was “Is it finished?” Asked who they thought would win the war, the census of opinion appeared to me that, although they had no idea of what was happening, they thought the Russians might defeat Germany. Before they left that particular town, the Germans said they were only returning temporarily and would be back in 1944.
Desmond Woods and Marmorstein are here with the LIR. I had a long talk with Desmond, who is very pleased to be out here. He is 2 i/c of a company. I am hoping to contact Marmy shortly, and I left a message for him. The CO told me that Norman Dicks is now in command of an RAF regiment battalion and “Bunny” Hill is in the same battalion.
Get Sally and Myrtle to write and tell me all the news and tell them to send airmails. The others are no use: they take much too long. One of these days your North Africa letters will arrive and I expect Pat Vaile and Ted Foster have written there. If I knew then what I know now, I would never have given that address.
The weather seems to be warming up again and it if very hot today. I am keeping very well and am quite cheerful but wish I did not have so many bites. It is simply ghastly the way we are bitten out here. A lot of people suffer from very bad sores. I believe Tony Pierce had a very bad time with them before he was wounded.
Keep your spirits up, dearest girl. It will be a grand day when we are together again.
All my love and kisses
Lawrence
22nd October.
My Dearest Olive,
Received an airgraph from you dated 1st October. All the letters sent to North Africa have still not arrived – the system seems to break down badly in this respect. As you have not mentioned it in any letters I have received, I presume our hopes in a certain direction have not been fulfilled. I was a little disappointed but it cannot be helped – in any case, you have your hands well filled with Valerie and I will have to hurry up and finish the war and get back to you. If I am right in my surmise, I suggest you try and mate the dogs at an early opportunity – assuming, of course, you get settled down and you think there is a reasonable chance of selling them, which I am fairly confident there will be. I would like to keep Jill’s line going and I feel certain there will be a very big boom in them after the war is over. One occasionally runs across an Alsatian out here and they are very greatly admired by the troops. There will be plenty of people wanting to acquire a dog after the war so we want to start Sadi and Sylva before it is too late and in order that we may have a couple of good young bitches at the end of war. You really ought to register them, you know, as we have rather neglected that. Let me know what you think about it, but I am certain we would do well financially (eventually) on them.
Dicky Richards has been awarded the MM for gallant services as a sergeant in North Africa. His company commander Denis Haywood gave him a pleasant little dinner in honour of the occasion last night to which I was duly invited. It may sound peculiar to be having dinners quite close to the enemy but we try and get a little pleasure and a change when we can. Dicky is a first class fellow and a real Londoner whom I hope we will keep up with after the war.
I think you will be receiving a letter from John Glennie about the time you get this. We thought it would be a happy idea if I wrote to his mother which I have duly done, and he wrote to you. I don’t know what he is saying although I confess to a curiosity but I shall be glad if you will write him an early air mail reply and call him ‘John’. I know I have written a lot about him but he has been a grand friend and I think you have the imagination to realise the need for friendship out here. Life would indeed be miserable without it and John and I, thrown together by circumstances, have achieved a very deep friendship and understanding. He has kept me happy and cheerful and therefore extremely ambitious to go further and I have managed, with a fairly loose rein, to guide him past some pitfalls. He got into some rather bad books a little time ago through supposedly being too familiar with his platoon and being too casual in his manner. Through my own experience, I was able to help him and, as I was IO at the time, I was able to very gently drop a few words to the CO and I am quite certain the CO thinks very well of him now. I think you would like his Ulsterism and high spirits and liveliness, but at the same time he has a touch of shyness and small boy aspects that make him very endearing. He is a splendid platoon commander – very forceful and resolute.
I am afraid that I am very much stricter out here. One cannot afford to be weak – orders have to be given under the most critical conditions and must receive instant obedience. Mistakes cost lives here and cannot be tolerated. There is many a tale, I will tell you after it is all over, which illustrates my meaning more clearly.
Well, despite everything, we have our laughs and keep our spirits up. I would dearly like to be with you and Valerie again but I am philosophical about it all and keep quite happy. Now I have settled down, I like the battalion a whole lot and am very proud of our wonderful record. The “Faughs” are an absolute byword out here, if we are not too well known at home. I have been amazed at the tremendous reputation here. The tank unit (Canadian Three Rivers Regiment) which co-operated with us in our last attack (at Termoli) told us we were the finest infantry battalion they have ever met. They talk about Scottish regiments at home but you can tell them that none of them have anything like the reputation of the ‘Faughs’ who has never been beaten yet.
All my love and kisses, darling girl to you both.
Your devoted husband
Lawrence
26th October.
Dearest Olive,
I am writing this sitting on the edge of a slit trench in a wood ready to dive into it at any second if any artillery shell bursting is at hand. It has been a grim few days since I last wrote. The first day we marched 20 miles, then at night marched another 10, and dug in before daybreak. In the afternoon, we marched another 12 miles, fought a battle at night, dug in, moved in the morning, dug in again, moved and re-dug.
Since then, we have been under constant shelling from the Germans. The worst part of being shelled is the feeling of utter impotence and, after a time, combined with total lack of sleep and very little food, it has an extremely wearying effect on the nerves. For 96 hours, I don’t think I have experienced more than 4 hours sleep and I began to feel dreadfully tired and depressed. Indeed yesterday when I was by myself, I actually cried a little as I felt so done in. I then thought this will never do, so I took a couple of aspirin, a blanket and went and lay down under a tree. I slept for about 6 hours – my batman waking me once with a cup of tea. I awoke at 3, feeling a new man. A merciful providence saved my life for 5 minutes later a shell burst 5 yards from where I had been sleeping, and the blanket was covered with large bits of shrapnel. I would not have stood an earthly, if I had been there. Lesson learnt, never sleep outside a slit trench and you may be sure I will never forget it.
This morning, a German patrol tried to enter our area. Our forward post opened fire on them and they went to ground. I went forward to our post, tested the area by firing rifle shots into likely positions and then, with a L/Cpl armed with a Tommy Gun, went forward and searched an area about 300 yards ahead. I do not usually stick my neck out quite so far, as the saying goes here, but I did it deliberately to test my nerves and, to my delight, I found I was a steady as a rock. I have felt more excited on an exercise at home, but never was a finger more ready to press the trigger. We found nothing but I was pleased with my own little performance, for it showed me that when there is something doing, there is not much wrong with me.
The only good thing that can be said for war is the spirit of comradeship it produces. No finer friend than Johnny has ever existed, and for once I have someone I can occasionally lean on. I think he strengthens me in the same way as you have always done darling. In times of stress and depression, you have always had the happy knack of knowing how far to be sympathetic and how far to be firm. I have had some strong friendships in the past, but never one that I can get the same strength and comfort from. I have not seen Denis Haywood for some days but his company had rather a happier time than ours. However our situation appears to be easing, as we have very strong forces behind who may bear the brunt for a little time.
Tomorrow is my birthday and it will hardly be spent under very happy surroundings. However let’s hope my birthday in 1944 will be spent with my own darling wife and little daughter. I have not had a letter for some days now, but am hoping there will be a few when they are able to bring the mail forward. It seems a long way from home at the moment but one can never tell what is around the corner. The Russian offensive keeps pressing forward and is highly encouraging.
I have been very touched and pleased about Valerie kissing my photo at night. Keep cheerful precious, and remember I love you more deeply all the time.
Your devoted husband
Lawrence
29th October.
My Dearest Olive,
I have had a dreadful few days, culminating in John Glennie and Dennis Dunn being killed and myself wounded. My wound is not serious – a blast from an artillery shell puncturing the chest and left arm but poor Dennis, who was beside me, got it in the back and died immediately. I am in hospital at the moment and apart from a certain stiffness and a feeling of tiredness am suffering more from mental depression than anything else. In the event of you receiving a War Office telegram that I have been wounded, this is the case. Actually, I hope to be back with the battalion shortly.
We launched a big night attack on a certain day (on 27th October at San Salvo) and met with very fierce opposition. My company got rather badly knocked about and amidst the confusion, John and I bumped against each We decided to rally what men we could and push forward and, by using our ground carefully, we made a considerable advance. Despite the terrific noise, I have never felt cooler or more confident. Here, I was fighting beside my greatest friend and my older head and his youthful dash and cheerfulness brought us well forward. He laughed and joked amid the inferno and I felt his strength was mine and mine. Once, I got hit in the face by a piece of shrapnel and gave a groan and he raced out exposing himself and insisted on examining me, before he took cover again.
Eventually, we were caught in the middle of a ploughed field: Johnny received a shot in the arm but it was not serious and, with the aid of a L/Cpl, I bandaged him up. We were trying to get back from this bad position when there was a burst of MG fire and he fell on his side and gasped, “I have been hit in the chest”. I completely lost all thought of personal risk and how I got him back, I don’t know but with MG bullets flying all around, I managed to get him to cover.
It was a terrible hole but we did what we could and tried to carry him to where the stretcher bearers might be. We were causing him too much pain and so I sent our few remaining men off to find the Stretcher Bearers and for 1 ½ hours, I lay with him in an open field until he died. He was in great pain, so at least I have the consolation that he did not die abandoned and tried to ease him. Early on, I said, “You know I am here, Johnny” and he said, “I do Frank”. A couple of times he said, “Are you still there Frank, don’t leave me, will you?” At the end, he cried a little and called for his mother and then passed away quietly in my arms. That brave gallant boy, so full of life and high spirits – what a bloody shambles it is. Only two weeks ago, his sister asked if I would write first to her if anything happened and I am doing this.
The dreadful tragedy to poor Dennis occurred a few hours later, I carried on for most of the day but towards evening began to feel very bad and the MO packed me off to hospital. I don’t feel too bad, except my spirits are down to zero. We have had a ghastly 10 days and, at the moment, nothing seems worthwhile. You and Valerie and home seem so far away and inaccessible. I could have stood anything out here with the exception of Johnny’s death – no one ever had a better friend and there is now a huge void which I don’t know how I can possibly fill. In fact, it never will be.
I will tell you about the Battalion another time but Denis Hayward is alright, thank goodness. Don’t worry, darling. I think we will be out of action for a little time.
All my love to you and Valerie.
Lawrence.