12th November 1916
“The last 24 hours have been pretty quiet again, thank heaven … It was rather ripping this morning early: it was wonderfully quiet and in the distance you could hear the church bells, ever so faintly. I felt homesick, all in a great wave. War seemed so senseless, such a waste of time & life and energy. It galled me to have to slink about in trenches & to live in a dug-out. I wanted to be out there with you, dear, out in the wet grass, the sunrise about us, the sweet smell of the earth in our nostrils … praising God for life and the great gift of our love. Then all of a sudden there was a crack of a rifle & the moan of a bullet in the air. The dream was dispelled. What a fool man is sometimes”.
Arthur to Dollie
Sunday aft. 4.45
… I have been so happy to-day, for a mail turned up at last with four dear letters from you. Thanks awfully sweetheart; I was so bucked to have your dear news. I am glad to hear that the weather has begun to improve at home. Here for the last 3 or 4 days it has been rather typical autumn fine weather. As the communiqué expressed it: the weather is “quiet”: tant mieux, for the ground is wet enough as it is.
I don’t know what’s going to happen to Edouard [Noel], dear. On our way into the line the other day, I met Freeth the Brigadier. He asked me what I was doing: so I told him that I now had charge of a Company. So he said “Well, if Noel goes, you’ll be second in command again, won’t you” I answered that I didn’t think so as someone senior to me had since come out. At which he smiled a mystic smile. What he knows I cannot imagine: but I certainly think he foreshadowed the departure of Edouard. But this of course is all assumption.
As I have told you, darling, I left Howell’s letter for Hull at the Division the day I rejoined. Alfred wrote me a letter last night – he is at Etaples. He seemed very cheery & anxious to get back…
I’m glad that you have been about your passport to Paris. How are you going to manage about a photo: are you going to have one taken. If so, don’t forget your hubby. I’m all impatience for the one of us two at 45 on the 21st.
The last 24 hours have been pretty quiet again, thank heaven. I think I am gradually mastering my cold. It was rather ripping this morning early: it was wonderfully quiet and in the distance you could hear the church bells, ever so faintly. I felt homesick, all in a great wave. War seemed so senseless, such a waste of time & life and energy. It galled me to have to slink about in trenches & to live in a dug-out. I wanted to be out there with you, dear, out in the wet grass, the sunrise about us, the sweet smell of the earth in our nostrils – filling our lungs with the cool fresh air, praising God for life and the great gift of our love. Then all of a sudden there was a crack of a rifle & the moan of a bullet in the air. The dream was dispelled. What a fool man is sometimes. How warped & bent his nature that he should have ever made a thing like war possible. Yet I suppose it is part of the way of the world – which is only a testing ground of our metal. True gold can only be tried by fire…