Letters From the Front

Dated: March 7, 1916

INTERESTING LETTER FROM W. MALLORY

(Late Orderly of the Red Deer Memorial Hospital)

Epsom, Eng., March 7, 1916

Dear Mr. Broughton,

Thanks very much for letter received a few days ago, also for the "news" and "Advocate."

First of all I want to thank you for taking care of my belongings until I come back, of course it is only natural I should say that. (We all left with the intention of returning some time.)

As we all know, quite a few who said that are now lying in a soldier's grave on a foreign soil.

We have all had some terrible experiences to face since we left our homes. Some of our brave comrades have met with death in awful ways, but it is too sad to dwell upon. I am greatly thankful that I have been so fortunate. As a first aid worker I have been in some tight corners but was always lucky enough to come out safely.

Ypres was the worst place we were in, especially when the Germans gave us a taste of their poisonous gas, but they did not succeed in driving us back until then.

It was at Ypres that our doctor was captured¹, and we also lost some of our stretcher bearers. I myself was taken to a dressing station suffering from gas poison. I was not bad enough to be sent to a hospital, and after being treated for about a couple of days at the dressing station, I was sent back to the Battalion.

All went well with me until the 24th of May, 1915, when I was wounded. It was at Festubert, with the Fighting Fifth. We had done our four days in the trenches, and on the night of the 22nd we had been relieved by the Strathcona's and the Dragoons and marched to our billets a few miles behind the firing line. We had only been out a day, when at midnight of the 23rd we were roused up to go to the firing line, as an attack had been made. We arrived at the scene of the battle by daylight. We could plainly see we were in for a hot time for quite a lot of wounded and dead were lying around. We succeeded in taking three or four lines of trenches but we paid dearly for it, the Fifth battalion losses were heavy here, nearly all the officers got wiped out, also more than half of our stretcher bearers.

Of course the German losses were much heavier than ours. I passed along one German trench and it was full of dead, some half buried with sandbags. In some parts of this trench I was walking on top of dead Germans, believe me I am not exaggerating when I say that. It was here, while another stretcher bearer and I were rendering First Aid, when we both got wounded by a shrapnel shell that burst a few yards away from us, hitting me in the wrist and thigh, and hitting the other fellow in the shoulder and knee. That finished the pair of us. The next thing was to get out to the dressing station. Well we both started helping each other as best we could, we crawled like Indians for about a mile stopping at intervals to take cover, often using the dead to protect us from the shells that were bursting around us in all directions. We finally got into one of our own trenches; here we got some of the fellows to put a bit of bandage on us, then we started on our way again, but had to take many rests before we reached the dressing station.

On arriving there we had our wounds dressed, and some hot tea given to us, then we were put into an ambulance and taken to a clearing station at Bethune. There we had our wounds dressed again, given some nourishment and also some cigarettes, (I may say that a cigarette is a great relief to a wounded man) and after a brief rest we were put on another ambulance and taken to a field hospital at Lilliers, arriving there about noon May 24th. Here we were put to bed, given a hot meal and a good wash, and our wounds again dressed. They kept us here until the following morning, when we were all cleared out and taken to the railway station where a Red Cross train was waiting to take us to Boulogne. We were well cared for on the train by the Sisters in charge, who saw to all our wants and made us very comfortable on our journey.

We arrived at Boulogne at 5 p.m., May 26th. Here we were transferred to ambulances and taken to different hospitals in the town. I was sent to one just outside the town where we were taken in hand by the orderlies and given a good bath (for we certainly needed one) as we were covered with mud from head to foot. We were a pitiful looking lot of objects, for our own mothers would not have known us. Next we were put to bed, it did seem strange to get our clothes off and get into a nice clean bed. After that came a visit from the doctor who looked at our wounds and left them for a nurse to bandage up, I did not get much sleep that night, my wounds were very sore and the pain was great. Next morning the nurse came and dressed my wounds and put a ticket on me for England, the orderly brought me some new clothes which fit where they touched, evidently they had been made for a giant and not for Bill Mallory, anyhow they answered their purpose.

I was again put into an ambulance and taken down to the hospital ship. We left Boulogne about 9 a.m., May 27th, and two hours later we were in Dover harbor. Here several hospital trains were waiting to take us to our final destination. I was beginning to wish that my journey would come to an end.

I was put on to a train, but not one of us had the faintest idea where we were going. We left Dover about 3 p.m. Our first stop was Reading, where a bunch of Red Cross nurses, Boy Scouts and Girl Guides, were waiting upon the station platford with refreshments for us. After a short stop here, we started again. Our next stop was at Exeter, where they took a lot of the worst cases off the train. We remained here quite a while and the rest of us were handed refreshments and cigarettes by the ladies of the city. It was here that Lady Roberts came on to the train and shook hands with us all.

We started off again, and our next stop was Torquay in Devonshire. I was among the bunch that was taken off here, and with fifteen others was sent to Torquay Hospital, arriving there at 2 a.m. on the 28th and I was glad that my journey was done, as by this time I was about all in.

I was soon put to bed and kept there a week before ever the doctors attempted to operate on me, to remove the shrapnel out of my wrist and thigh. My turn came at last, they took four pieces of shrapnel out, three from the wrist, that being the worst, for both bones were broken. The wound in the thigh was only a flesh wound and that was alright in a few days. I was soon allowed to get out of doors and enjoy myself with the rest.

I must say the people of Torquay were very good to us, and we never wanted for anything. Every place of amusement in the town was free to wounded soldiers, we were also taken out to garden parties, picnics, river excursions, drives on the moors, & c. We had concerts nightly at the Hospital, the nurses were also very good to us and gave us little tea parties. During the week I was in the hospital I had one of the most enjoyable times of my life, and was sorry when I had to leave.

I was discharged from hospital on the 22nd of July, and sent home for a week where my people and friends gave me a very good time. I then had to report at the base at Shorncliffe and after being there three weeks I was examined by the Medical board. They sent me to Monks Horton Convalescent Camp, being kept there a week, and then transferred to Epsom, where I have been put into the C.A.M.C. for duty in England.

I have been here since September and like the place fine, we don't work very hard, as they make defaulters do the heavy work, and as long as we behave ourselves we can have a nice time. We are only 15 miles from London and we can get there pretty often. I will try and tell you more about this place the next time I write.

I might say I've not seen any Red Deer boys for quite a while, several that returned to England have got soft jobs in the pay and records office, London.

I was glad you mentioned in your letter that Colin² was alright. I wrote to him some time ago but had no reply, so I thought he had been wounded and was in hospital somewhere. He certainly has been lucky and I hope the same luck will always favour him. I don't know whether you will have patience to read this long letter. I could tell you a lot more but must keep it in reserve for next time. So now I will close with kindest regards.

Remember me to all enquiring friends,

Yours sincerely,

WILL MALLORY