IN BILLETS. February 7th, 1915.

I hear that Col. Napier has got a Brigade, and I must write to congratulate him. You are kind in offering to send us more cakes and mincepies. What we really miss according to our usual mode of life is the absence of the "sweet" course at luncheon or dinner. Perfectly ridiculous! Just the same as washing, but one misses it somehow, that is all, even when one is eating covered with mud. I received your letter of February 3rd last night; usually these letters only take 2 days to come. Thanks for sending Bryant and May's matches. I hope they will arrive shortly via Southampton. Tell Blanche I am sorry for her troubles with her teeth: I am trying to see a dentist myself. I hear there is one at a little distance away, and I propose to ride over to see him to-morrow, if possible. We go across to a canal, and follow that for 8 miles, and then he, the dentist, is to be found somewhere in an ambulance. A very good thing to be able to get away from under shell fire even for a short time. We had rather a doing yesterday, for the Germans shelled us heavily, and finally concentrated on two houses. Curiously enough, I had pointed out to the authorities how very visible some works the Engineers had constructed were to the enemy from their aircraft, and I stated that the woodwork ought to be painted earth colour, and sent out a party of men in the meantime to cover the wood with mud. Unfortunately, however, the mud dried, leaving the wood still rather light, and the aircraft came along all right, as I suspected, saw it, and signalled to their gunners where to fire. By some good luck, the 2 houses alongside, though they were full of my men, had also shelters erected to protect them from shell fire. These they ran into, and so escaped; only Major W—— was hit on the head by a splinter, which did not hurt him, as his skull is fairly resisting! The few remaining rafters were blown off the houses and the walls fell down. It was most unpleasant to stand by helplessly and watch it; I could not turn on our gunners, for a very heavy bombardment was going on to our right at the usual place which I have mentioned to you before. The shells we captured were French, and exploded well. Coming out of the trenches, the company that came my way had one corporal killed and one wounded. The poor man was shot dead just before leaving the trenches. I quickened our pace up, I can tell you, when we suddenly found ourselves walking along in the line of a hot fire fight in front of us; though it was a mile and a half away in the darkness, one bullet struck beside me, and another went over my head. The shell which struck this house was evidently nearly spent, and the broken door is just like the back entrance of your aunt's house opposite Carlton church. It went clean through this; then turned to the right through a thick wall and landed in a cupboard on a shelf, smashing the doors, but not exploding....

IN BILLETS. February 8th, 1915.

Very heavy rain last night, and plenty of mud this morning after five o'clock, when we stood to arms. I am going to Merville, as I said, this afternoon to get my teeth looked to. I took Major B. for a longish walk yesterday. He hates walking, but brightened up considerably as we went along, and we talked of our various troubles. We have certain worries with some of our men who have not been brought up in the strict discipline really required for a continental war. Cheering news has come to us from Russia. A General was sent by the Czar to decorate Sir John French and the Colonel of the Scots Greys, of which the Czar is Col. in chief. He is reported to have said: "Do not worry; we have not yet mobilized in Russia, but we shall do so in the beginning of April, and we do not ask you to do more than wait here holding the enemy; then we propose simply to march on Berlin with overwhelming numbers." So be it, as long as we get these thieves settled soon. That heavy fighting I told you about La Bassee way, going on two days ago, was our storming a German trench; I hear that we killed a lot of Germans and captured 30. Of course we must have lost heavily ourselves too. Would you send a copy of my History, of which you have already sent two away, to Col. Anderson, Headquarters, VIII Division, B.E.F. His father was in the regiment, and he is interested in it. Also to my Mother please send a copy with my love. By the way, all parcels to France are expensive, but if the postage by chance is not fully paid it does not matter, as no extra charge is made at this end. Now I must stop, as I am as busy as possible to-day trying to get things done, and everyone wants to see me at once. Such a lovely sun!...

IN BILLETS. February 9th, 1915.

Well, I went yesterday afternoon and had two teeth filled, one under the gum, which is still rather painful; but the amusing point is that on my way there at some cross roads I was held up for a quarter of an hour by the Germans shelling the place. I hid in a building, and when they got off the line of the road I resumed my ride on to my dentist. Just at this moment they are shelling our usual front line billets vigorously. I mean the ruined houses which we hide behind. Clearly they must have got more ammunition. Many thanks for cake, chocolate, tins of coffee and cocoa, and boiled eggs, which all arrived safely. As a matter of fact, the cake is most useful, whilst we still have a fair amount of chocolate, and the eggs please do not send again, for we have now a regular system of supplying eggs to ourselves at 3-1/2 francs a dozen, which keeps us going. I am glad the children like reading and receiving my letters. Sometimes I am rather hustled for time, as I have often a great deal to do, and many of my officers have not been on active service before. First, you have to think out the orders, and then issue them in writing, and then, still more important, see that they are carried out. Sorry to hear of Miss Dunlop's death; she has gone to a better world, anyhow. The one she has left is in a troublous condition. Please God, it soon rights itself! No soup squares required, please. I fancy that if I get my leave at all it will be before April, but of course I cannot choose the time or anything like that. In fact, they may refuse to allow me to have a second leave. Had a letter from Bertha Farmar; she is full of news, and seems very happy. I do not know anything about Colonels only going into the trenches at night. I have been in during the day often; but in the trenches that we now occupy it is carrying your life in your hand to do so—that is, for a tall man; once in, it is just a question of bending down. It is strange to hear of people playing football out here—we ourselves are under fire every minute. One of our men was hit yesterday on the head by a German bullet four hundred yards farther down the street from where I live, whilst he was having his hair cut by the company barber. We had fondly imagined that we were out of the way of bullets!

Yours....

We go into our trenches again to-night, worse luck!

IN TRENCHES. February 10th, 1915.

Here we are back in the trenches, and a shell has just burst quite close to us. A Yeomanry major has been lunching with me. I put him up in the "Residency" at Aden on his way home, and he asked to come down into our trenches, though he belongs to another division, as he wanted the experience. His name is Backhouse, and his brother was Flag Lieutenant to Admiral Jellicoe at the beginning of the war. We arrived here very peacefully last night, cheered by news of the Russian successes, and then I went my rounds from 3 o'clock till 7.30 in the morning. I pointed out to some of my men that they were standing in a dangerous place, but they said it was all right, and I heard an hour after that three of them had been struck by one bullet. Later the General came along to see about things, and I had to go round with him. A shrapnel from our guns burst short and just missed a man I was speaking to.... However, thank Heaven! we did not have any fired at us. A curious thing happened the night before last. One of the British patrols in my line saw a German at the wire entanglements in the darkness, and fired. The German fell, calling out: "Don't shoot, soldier." When they were able to get up to him they found that he had laid his rifle and equipment down before he was seen, and either wanted to surrender or, as he had some wire cutters with him, was trying to cut the entanglement. Anyhow, poor fellow! he had had the large artery of his leg cut, and was just at the point of death. We buried him at the back of the ruin. Did you ever think how between the devil and the deep sea the German soldier is? If he runs away, he is shot; if he advances, he is generally shot; and if he tries to desert, as in this case, he is shot too. A hard fate....

IN TRENCHES. February 11th, 1915.

Getting up at 3 a.m. is very trying, as it makes the day so long. I curl up in my blankets at 9 p.m., and hope for the best, but very often I am pulled out again. Last night, for instance, we had various parties down here working during the night. About 8 o'clock I went to look at the poor German's grave, and, coming away from it, I was nearly hit by a bullet from some sniper who was evidently watching me. I am just waiting to go to one of our own men's funeral. He was shot yesterday, poor boy! and I was able to get his body out, so I am trying to give all such, decent burial with a clergyman some distance back from the trenches. I forgot to tell you when mentioning that shrapnel shell yesterday that the man I was talking to was Sergeant Driscoll, whom you will remember in the regiment; and that a sergeant of the Lincolns was killed in my lines exactly the same way the day before. I enclose Mr. Aitchison's letter. I did not realize that it was his only son. I heard from Mrs. Baker yesterday in reply to a letter of mine. She compliments you on your letters, saying you are quite a soldier's wife.... I calculate that I might, but only might, get away about February 28th for a week if nothing turns up in the interval; but, again, I was told that all leave was stopped in the 7th Division, so I am doubtful what will happen. Perhaps the war will end soon. Who knows?...

IN TRENCHES. February 12th, 1915.

Your letter not come yet, but posts do not always fit. We had a couple of amusements yesterday. One was the opening of fire from quite a new direction by the Germans. Fortunately, not very heavy, though. The other thing was that our house caught fire last night about 5.30. Major B. and the sergeant-major made the discovery. It originated with the guard, who, of course, were the last to find it out! Major B. and the Sgt. Major were both invaluable, but my first business was to see that the sentry was alert, so that we could carry on our operations without being surprised by our opponents. Next I got a ladder from a ruin, put a man up it with a hose, and said: "There are great gaping holes in the tiles everywhere; pull off the remaining ones, and then we can pour water all over the fire." There were very few, however, left to pull off, so the work was done and the fire put out in a few minutes. Lucky for us it was just before dark and the light just right, otherwise we should have been shelled to pieces. We buried that poor fellow I spoke about yesterday afternoon with a parson, keeping my eyes lifted for rifle bullets all the while. I forgot to tell you I stopped an N.C.O. as I was coming down to the trenches 3 nights ago to speak to one of our men; immediately afterwards he was hit in the leg by a bullet. As it was long range, the bullet remained in his calf, and he went off in an ambulance to have it dug out. One of my poor men died also this morning; it was astonishing that he was alive at all, for yesterday a bullet hit him in the head and blew the back of his head off, and yet he remained alive and quite conscious without pain till 2 a.m. I have just had a visit from an artillery officer; he and I have concerted a plan of operations together. As his shells are very heavy, things ought to be bad for the Germans. How I hate this business of killing people who never wanted the war, and would go home if it were possible! Now, if I could have an innings at those who actually made the war and murdered the women and children, I would have quite a different tale to tell, but these poor creatures are set in a groove and are helpless to escape out of it.

IN BILLETS. February 13th, 1915.

We got away quietly from our trenches on the night of the 12th, I am thankful to say. It was so dark that I could not see the man in front of me, though I could touch him with my hand. I "came," as the Irish say, a great sprawl over a bridge across a ditch, the chief difficulty being to find my uniform cap in the darkness and mud, as, of course, one did not wish to give away where we were by even a flash from one's electric torch. However, here we are in billets once again, with the rain pouring down and guns roaring now all round us. I cannot quite make out whether any shells from the enemy are falling or not. Since we came they have blown down a small building on the other side of the road from where I am sitting, and sent a shell into the medical inspection room. This gives some idea of how powerful even one of their medium-sized shells is, for it went through five thick brick walls before it exploded. I hope I may get leave again presently, but there appears to be some trouble about a second lot. I shall, however, put a brave face on and demand it in the ordinary course, and see what I can do. I am told that Colonels who have finished their command are kept on commanding their regiments out here during the war, as they are badly needed just at present, so I do not know that I shall get a Brigade when my time is up, as it will be ere long. Of course, everything is at sixes and sevens. I hope you have already sent Col. Anderson the copy of my History which he asked for. I am glad that Colonel Farmar has done so well with Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien, as he is such a good fellow, and in all probability he will have a good career before him. I must be off.

IN BILLETS. February 14th, 1915.

A wet day yesterday, and a wild night; rain stopped now, and turning very cold. Pleasant for the trenches, but I anticipate cold weather up to the middle of April at least, and very bitter weather in March. The Germans seized the opportunity to shell us and knock down the house next to mine, laying out two of my men and a sergeant of the Berkshires. Fortunately none of them were killed. They smashed the roof up, so we went round to get safer billets for the men. The house we took was inhabited by a very rich old man, who said he kept a house to live in and a shop to work in, not to put soldiers in! Pleasant loyal fellow! We simply said that he would have 125 soldiers there within half an hour. However, we asked the men, and they said they preferred to stay where they were. I expect, as much as anything, they were too tired to move. Well, I rode out with Major Baker to the Northamptonshire Yeomanry. They were commanded by a Col. Wickham, of the Scots Guards, an old gentleman who joined the Guards in 1874. They told me the sad news that when they applied for their second leave, they were refused, so I am afraid it looks as if none of us will get it, which is more than a nuisance. I enclose a letter from Athelstan Riley; it will interest you. Major B. has been decidedly ill several times on this campaign, and I have literally ordered him to stay in bed to get better, as he would not do so otherwise. I should like, if it comes my way, to bring out a Brigade; I am all for it! Percy's regiment, the Scots Greys, are in the trenches at present having a hard time. Many thanks for the prospect of another plum pudding; and jam tartlets of some sort, not made with plums, might be very good. Apple tartlets, very sweet, well covered in at the top, would be perfectly splendid. I do not think we require many things now. A lot of cigarettes and tobacco have been sent to us lately....

IN BILLETS. February 15th, 1915.

Such a wet day yesterday. We had service about 11 a.m. in the conservatory of a convent which in some curious way has escaped being destroyed. The enemy were shelling the town, so I put a corporal on the watch to give notice as the shells drew nearer. However, after coming fairly close they stopped firing. In the afternoon I went to see about my crosses for graves. I get a certain number sent down most nights whilst we are in the trenches. We have now the sum total of our children's ages [about 20] coming to us to-morrow night, so we shall have something to do to put them all up. Of course, these are for my own men only. In our diggings we are constantly turning up the bodies of Indians or Frenchmen, or of a few Englishmen who have held our trenches before us, and have been buried at the back during the night. Very awful, but so is all war. We go in to-night again to our most objectionable duty. I had a letter from Bertha. Col. Farmar is now well established on the staff with Gen. Smith-Dorrien. S.D. is far and away one of the most capable of our Generals, I am told. I am so sorry to hear of Miss Webb's [of Newstead Abbey] sudden death from heart, just like her sister, Lady Chermside. Well, that is about all my news. I am off this morning to inspect our bomb-throwers. No doubt these nasty weapons are useful on occasions, but they are most dangerous to those who handle them. So, too, with us—that is, in our Brigade—they have only blown up four of themselves. None of my men have done so as yet, I am thankful to say....

IN TRENCHES. February 16th, 1915.

Here we arrived peacefully last night; I went through the whole of my lines in places up to my knees in mud, as usual! There is practically no news to give you, excepting that to-day the country looks very nice with a bright sun shining. We have heard heavy firing at Ypres, and do not know what it all means, but I am fairly ready for them, anyhow, if they wish to come. I also learnt that the Germans drove the Russians out of East Prussia, because the latter were short of ammunition, but that the Russians killed and wounded 100,000 Germans before they went. A few more such German "victories" ought to about finish these knaves! How I wish I was back in England and at home!...

February 17th, 1915.

Am really in full blast now. On Saturday I was summoned to ride 5 miles to a conference. The first person I saw there was Col. Farmar, who had just returned from a flying visit to England. It was pleasant meeting him again, though we had not much time for a private talk. The conference being over, I was whisked off in a motor with a General. We were driven by a French soldier who had been two years in London and 7 years in America. After lunch at his billet I was told to reconnoitre the trenches we were to occupy that evening; we came upon a French woman of the rich farmer class who had just had her servant killed, and herself and baby wounded by a German shell. Then we went on to the trenches, leaving the General behind, and taking a staff officer instead. I found that my Brigadier had arranged that I was to take over the front of something over two regiments. There were plenty of shells bursting around me, including five in the next house and lots of rifle fire. Well, by the evening I had gathered all the information I wanted to know, so went back in my motor. Meanwhile the Brigadier sent word that we were to go to the town of——. It was perfectly dark there on our arrival, and after proceeding with great care on account of the shell-holes in the streets I came to the only lighted place there was, which turned out to be a General's headquarters. Here I was allowed to sit by the fire for a few minutes to dry myself, after which I went off in the dark and rain to arrange billets for the Bn. Of course this is not really my business, but everything was so huggermugger that I thought I should get matters along that way. Arriving at 1 a.m., I put the men into deserted French houses. The inhabitants had fled, so I was informed by a French officer at the General's Headquarters, because the Germans had asked for 50,000 francs for an indemnity, and it was not paid in the given time. They, so he said, shot the mayor and an old man of 80 years and another; so if that is true the people just panicked! We were very comfortable barring sleeping on the floor and having to get up at 5 a.m. on a Sunday, and in snowy weather too! Well, that day I received the order to move, and finally got into our trenches at four-thirty last night in downpours of rain. As we approached these, a heavy fight was in progress, and we came under fire of the spent bullets. One of my very good boxers, poor chap! was hit in the jaw and died at once. I suppose it dislocated the spine. Then the Germans threw star shell on us, and turned a searchlight upon us as well, so altogether made themselves very unpleasant, whilst our own shells burst short just above our heads as we stood on the road. In the dark I sorted everyone out, had a confab. with the two C.Os., and then sent my troops off under officers as guides to their trenches. I need hardly tell you that I hated the whole thing horribly, but one never shows it. The day before my doctor had been taken ill with influenza, and though I asked for another, none could be sent, and there I was with the dead man in the trench and another wounded, and no one to attend to them. However, by dint of sitting up all night, going round the front trenches, etc., I managed to get things more or less right, but was not sorry when day broke without an attack, for if a strong one is made here, we are sure to be broken through. Well, now you would like to hear what sort of place I am in. Imagine a hole in the ground thatched over with mud and broken planks. It is 3 feet deep, and raised just sufficiently for me to sit on the ground without touching my head against the roof. I have some looted straw on the clay, and here I sit and shiver, with my greatcoat and a blanket and mud up to my eyes. From this charming spot I try, with the assistance of many orderlies, to get orders to various companies, sometimes unsuccessfully, for the men lose themselves in a surprising manner when sent on messages. Each time I go forward to the front trenches I have to wade through mud bent double in a little narrow ditch which catches me on either side. We have been told that we are to remain for only forty-eight hours in this place, but it may turn out to be a fortnight for all I know! At present I am using a couple of batteries against the trenches that the Germans are working in on my right. A few men are firing at us from these, but we have hardly fired a shot ourselves, as we are waiting for the enemy to advance, if so inclined. A tremendous bombardment goes on about 10 miles east of us, the heaviest I have heard yet. I nearly went to sleep over this letter, so will stop now, and write more when I have time....

IN TRENCHES. February 18th, 1915.

You ask about H—— having a pony; I think he had better get thorough confidence in the donkey first, and learn to go by himself. The reason is plain to anyone who goes in for horses much. A donkey, though it kicks a good deal, generally has its hind feet unshod, and in any case does not kick hard enough to more than hurt a little. A pony, on the contrary, is very liable to throw one off and then kick one's skull in. I remember my brother H—— being knocked off and kicked by a mare. A little nearer, and he would never have moved again. Therefore I think it would be wiser to get our boy used to his donkey and not afraid of it. I will have a look at him when (and if) I get home again. Yesterday I went in the afternoon to put our cemetery straight. It was being shelled at the time, and as I crept round some of our batteries afterwards, the guns were being hit, also a rather nice farm in which they were placed surrounded by a moat. The enemy have been shelling us this morning too, very closely, but I am tired, and my nerves, as you know, are not very jumpy! I was up just after 3 o'clock this morning, and went to various places, nearly being lost in a quagmire! Two of my men were hit, one by a spent bullet in the stomach. We can see the bullet, so I expect he will not die. The other was shot through the thigh, and the bullet stuck in his hand! We have got it out, and I am forwarding it to the authorities, as it has taken such a queer shape that one wonders if the German bullets are according to rules. This is a sketch of the bullet as it was originally and now. You can imagine what pain such a thing must give....



IN BILLETS. February 19th, 1915.

We are in support now. As we moved down here one of my men was hit in the "hinder parts." Very unfair advantage for an enemy to take. Of course it was dark; we found, however, that he was not dangerously wounded. That man whose bullet I drew you yesterday had his thigh bone smashed, poor fellow! Did you see that some officers who were prisoners had been exchanged by Germany (the incurable ones)? The two seniors mentioned I knew. One was Major Davey of the Middlesex Regt., whose brother lives in Newark. The other is Major Chichester, with whom I used to hunt in Dover. Did you see French's last despatches? I heard from Aden last night. The Colonel next junior to me out there sent all the news. They have had heavy rain, and the whole place is green (?). It is said not to have happened since the Flood! Then I received a pessimistic letter from Aunt H—— telling me that lots of wounded were expected and that the war would not cease. The Kaiser is not running this world's course. He is only allowed to go on as far as is good for him and for us. If he were, I should be pessimistic too, but I have yet to learn that "the arm of the Lord is shortened," and until then we can rest in peace no matter what happens, my dear. I enclose you a cutting from the People sent by Aunt H—— about the Saddlers' Co. All the Lauries belong to it. My Father was Master more than once, and also Uncle Alfred. A bright beautiful springlike day, but a little cold. The pudding arrived yesterday; many thanks for it. Our dinner also consisted of smoked sprats from Major Baker; cake and tinned peaches from Capt. Wright; figs and ginger from Mr. Brown, so we did not do badly. We had an adventure last night with a wagon which contained our little all. The man drove carelessly, and the wagon fell into a ditch 3 feet deep in water. After carefully unloading it, I gave them a pair of horses and 50 men to get it out. They pulled it up all right, but it next fell into the ditch on the other side, where it had to be left till the morning, when we sent out just at dawn and brought it in. All this kept us late for dinner, as you may imagine....

IN BILLETS. February 20th, 1915.

No letters at all, as, owing to the submarines, we are dodging the mails across somewhere else, I expect. The great difficulty is to catch your submarine, though you may see him often enough. The craze for going boating in these vessels will shortly die out amongst the Germans, I fancy, when they find out the number of boats that do not come home! At present they are looking out for one or two which I understand will not reappear, and thus they have to keep ships cruising about in search of them with petrol and food. Of course these are neutral ships; but it adds to our chance of finding out where and how these knaves draw their supplies! I have heard that it is from Ireland; but I expect the Government knows more than it lets out. Yesterday the Germans shelled us for an hour and a half; they just missed us, and killed a poor civilian behind the houses instead. They have increased our leave by one day now; still, whether they will grant mine a second time is uncertain, but I continue to hope. The awkward part is that they never let me know in time to write and tell you. Supposing it is granted, I may arrive on the night of February 25th; but if I do get across I must do a little shopping in London first, and fit myself out with some things I badly want: then I shall come on to you as soon as possible. It is rather a bore that the war will not stop, and I am annoyed that I have been kept out in India and away from you for over two years! The weather is improving here and getting more springlike. What are the Germans going to do now?...

February 21st, 1915.

I was very glad to hear from you yesterday, when two of your letters arrived together. Of course we had been done by these German submarines; so evidently the authorities thought it wiser not to run the Folkestone boats all through the day, for fear of giving the Germans an opportunity of sinking them! I fancy at night you are as likely as not to run over a submarine. In the same way I make no doubt that many of the German ones have been run down and sunk on the quiet. We go into the trenches again to-night, worse luck! My leave was refused on the ground that the General was not giving anyone a second leave, but the Staff captain added that it was only a matter of a few weeks' delay, when he would probably grant it if he could. I have been over to my transport lines on horseback this morning. I have to keep my eye on some 60 horses and mules who mostly stand out in muddy fields; but as they are very well fed and not overworked at present, there is nothing much wrong with them, excepting that their thick woolly coats gather vermin a little. I have had broken bricks and cinders put down for them to stand on, and thus lifted them out of the mud. I was over yesterday getting my hair cut, when I met Mr. Sherlock out for a walk, and as I was obliged to wait for an hour or so, I had tea with him. He told me that my name was mentioned in French's despatches. Well, that is quite pleasant, and I hope next time some of my officers will join me. Do you remember a Col. Gough in Dublin about the time we were married? Well, he is Brigadier-General on the Staff now, and yesterday went down to our lines of trenches. He was shot through the groin, and I am afraid has been very badly wounded. The enemy proceeded to shell E—— yesterday whilst I was there. Their gun must have been 5 miles from it. The first shot knocked a big tree down in a timber yard, of all places, but did no further damage. The second one went over my head, fell in a soft place, and exploded its energy in nothing. Then I left E——. Monson, my old servant, has joined me, looking more like a cross between an owl and a stork than ever!...

IN TRENCHES. February 23rd, 1915.

Just now we are undergoing a shelling from a heavy German howitzer; a piece fell at my feet as I was outside talking to Col. Spedding, cousin to Major Spedding of my regiment, whom you knew. He tells me that Major S. is supposed to be dead, but the difficulty is that every now and then some rumour comes that he has been seen alive, and poor Mrs. Spedding catches at any hope. He was a brave man, which, after all, is what we want. I enclose you my sister Amy's letter. Yesterday I had to go off to look at some forts. The German snipers were busy, though there was so thick a mist that they could not see me. Still, their bullets fell pretty close, and hit one of the forts; a man was also wounded in the leg. It shows how dangerous this unaimed fire can be when it comes in quantities. I had a quaint postcard from Sydney in reply to my last letter. Yes; I saw that Massereene, poor Herbert Stepney, and many others I know were mentioned in the despatches. The Military Cross is a new order, awarded to junior officers. As to the Russians, they have large numbers of men, but are still unfortunately short of equipment. Germany had plenty of men, though she never imagined that she would have to get the last 2 millions out. They were not trained, but neither were the Russians; I think, however, that we shall wear them down all right in the end. The Germans are supposed to have used up half their last million already. Our days here are very hard; for instance, I was up at 2 a.m., and have been walking or working ever since then, arranging with engineers or Generals or artillery officers what is to be done. I lay down for an hour after 6 o'clock, but could not sleep on account of cold feet.

IN TRENCHES. February 24rd, 1915.

I am glad you had a pleasant "meet" at Ossington, and I am much obliged for Mr. Denison's kind inquiries after me. I know how seriously ill he is, but I think it is quite likely many of us will go before.... We had a sharp frost last night, though my men are fairly used to it now. They are just like a lot of naughty children! For instance, I had two killed yesterday, through either their own or their comrades' faults. One man was watching our guns shelling the enemy's trenches. He was told to lie down or he would be shot. He did so, and the moment he saw a favourable opportunity he popped up again, and was promptly shot dead. The other was in front of the trenches mending wires, and his comrades, seeing that their N.C. officer was out, joyfully seized the occasion to stoke their fire and have a big blaze. The result was the unfortunate man showed up against it and was shot through the head; and their fire was kicked bodily into the water by an irate N.C.O. But they will do exactly the same to-morrow and the next day and the day after! The fact is, they never think! I am waiting now to take the Brigade Major and one of "K.'s Army" round the trenches to show them what I can, so that K.'s officer may not have quite a "green" crew when he arrives. More Germans have gathered in front of us lately, I think. I have written to London for an awfully good new waterproof, as I must keep dry, and I have had to send to "Flight" for a new uniform coat. When they come I shall be fairly set up, though the trenches have played havoc with my riding things; but they will have to do for the present. Would you kindly look in my unpainted tin-lined box and get me out a pair of khaki puttees. If you cannot find them there, they will be in a black wooden box. Get someone to help you. Both trunks are in the box-room, but do not catch cold when watching them. I have now returned from the trenches. We were sniped a little; the General went up another trench alongside us with the adjutant of a certain regiment, Capt. Thompson, and he, poor fellow! was killed. He was a good sort, and was in here yesterday to see me, and talking about his 3 children so cheerily: one, a boy, at, I think, the Beacon School, Sevenoaks, and on his way to Eton. Mr. Adderley came back this morning with a wonderful story that the Navy had caught an oil tank vessel supplying oil to the German submarines, and that the crew were taken to our Depot in Belfast and there shot! Presumably it is not true!...

February 25th, 1915.

Thanks for your letter. I heard from Sir John, and there was one, too, from my Mother, who is a very regular correspondent. Aunt Mary Cowell's letter turned up also, so I must get letters of thanks written to everyone in due course. To-night I am dining with Gen. Pinney. He and I are supposed to be the two optimists of the Division. Snow on the ground and rather cold. I hope the Germans are very cold and short of food! I am waiting to find out the time of poor Capt. Thompson's funeral. He was killed when with the General yesterday, as I told you. Sir John Ross is most kind in his remarks, is he not? I thought I had told you that B. and M.'s matches duly arrived. I am sure, in fact, that I did do so. Hal is not too young to ride a pony soon, though Sydney would be; but then you want a man to keep him well on the lead at first. My idea is, as I said before, that when he gets absolutely au fait with his donkey, it would be time enough to put him on a pony. When a boy is over 8 or 9, it is safe to let him ride regularly. Earlier than that, I don't approve of. I fancy that this Dardanelles business, if properly run, will lead to great results. Personally, I always thought that they had too many troops in Egypt for the sole purpose of defence. Now I suppose they will put some of them up the Dardanelles, and Dame Rumour says that Generals of the Naval Divisions have gone across to the Dardanelles already, but, of course, that may not be true....

(From Sir J. Ross of Bladensburg.)

ROSTREVOR HOUSE, ROSTREVOR, IRELAND. 20.2.15.

MY DEAR G——,

Very many congratulations on your being mentioned in despatches, which we are so delighted to see. All the more credit to you that, although you have been out at the front for some time, you were not there at the beginning of the war, and I know in all these cases, when other things are equal, the "mention" goes to those who have been out the longest. I think you know about as much of what is going on as we do, for, on the whole, we are told very little. Yet I am glad to say we are promised two short official accounts every week, and so we must be grateful for that amount of news. The main question outside the actual operations relates to the German intention; if they can torpedo every ship they see, whether it belongs to a belligerent or a neutral! It was always held to be a piece of cruel barbarity to sink a trading vessel without notice, even if belonging to a belligerent nation, the right course being to find out first whether she is a belligerent or not, and then to capture her. It was never considered fair warfare to touch a neutral. But who can say what "Kultur" will bring us to? Most people would call it unblushing piracy and attempted wholesale murder. But we will see what happens. Naval "Kultur" began the day before yesterday, and the report to-day is that a Norwegian neutral was torpedoed. F—— is very well, but does not come here till April. Sydney is here, and is getting fat and chubby, a delightful little boy, and keeps us all very cheery. We have had two delicious days as far as weather is concerned. I hope you have had the same change for the better.

May God keep you safe and sound, dear old G——, is, with our love, our very earnest hope.

I am, Yours affectionately, J.R. of B——.

February 26th, 1915.

We went to poor Capt. Thompson's funeral yesterday, Major B. and myself. A military funeral in the field is of three sorts. Well away from the enemy the soldier is borne on a stretcher, sewn up in his blankets and wrapped in a flag. Nearer the enemy you dispense with a flag; and finally, of course, in the trenches, when you cannot get out, you crawl down a ditch and dig a hole in the side and bury the poor fellow. Ours was of the second sort, as it was within long-range rifle fire, but somewhat screened by a hedge. Four officers carried the stretcher, and about six others followed behind. The grave was lined with wheaten straw, unthreshed, and the clergyman read a very short service, and then we all slipped quietly away. After the funeral we trotted on to the 5th Battery. They are friends of ours, and had been heavily shelled the day before; we telephoned them to inquire the result, but had received no answer. The operator, it seems, was obliged to take refuge in a cellar with some women and children, for the enemy positively rained shells upon them, fortunately, however, from a field gun only. Then shells struck the house itself, and the others made holes in the ground round it. Two went through the adjoining windows, two others into the dust-heap, etc. The cause of it was that the French owner had brought a threshing machine and was threshing out his wheat. Of course, the smoke of the engine attracted the Germans at once. The French are very much amused at this, I am told, for they do not allow any such things near their lines; but our Staff are soft-hearted. I had a very pleasant little dinner with Gen. Pinney last night, and played Bridge for an hour—the first game I have had time for since I left the transport at Liverpool. That will give you an idea of how busy I am. When I can, I sleep; otherwise I work hard. We are looking forward to more tartlets. I do not believe in riding lessons at present for H——. Let Sheppard teach him. My father showed me how to hold the reins, and I learnt the remainder myself. Far and away the best way too....

February 27th, 1915.

A very cold day with east wind. It will be bitter in the trenches. I hope the Germans are finding it so! I send you a note from some R.I.C. Sergeant in Belfast. Your extract from the Irish Evening Telegraph about me is rather amusing! As to your going to Ireland, it is early yet to decide. Who knows what a day may bring forth at any time? So poor Mr. Gorton has gone. The people in his village will miss him greatly. I will try and put a note in this letter for Patience Gorton, as I know her best, and you can send it on. I always forget the name of their place. By the way, I remember now that it is called Walesby, so will post it direct and save you the trouble. I am glad you thought of sending a wreath. I went for a long ride with the object of seeing someone in the Border Regt. yesterday whom Major Baker knew. Not one officer who came out with that regiment is with it now. This gives you an idea of what is going on here....

ROYAL IRISH CONSTABULARY BARRACKS, CHICHESTER PARK, BELFAST. February 20th, 1915.

LIEUTENANT-COLONEL G.B. LAURIE.

SIR,

We write to say how very glad we are to see that you are safe and well. We were delighted to see by the papers that you were among those mentioned for gallantry in the despatch sent home a few days ago by Field-Marshal Sir John French. We have tried to locate the different gentlemen now on active service who had been residing in this district, and the press is our medium—it was there we learnt you were at the front, and we are most anxious, and dearly hope that they all, who were when here so very kind to us, and are now risking their lives that we may be free—may be restored to their homes in perfect health and strength.

This is the spirit which prompts the writing of this letter, and we beg of you not to think us unduly familiar, but rather that we most sincerely hope that you may have perfect health and strength, and, above all, that you may, when the time comes, return home safe and well.

Your obedient servant, JEREMIAH LEE, Sergt. R.I.C.

February 28th, 1915.

I had a hurried ride yesterday in a piercing wind to see my 70 or 80 horses. In the afternoon, just as we were starting off to the trenches, we were stopped and told to wait whilst the Gunners tried to cut the wire in front of the German trenches with shells. Such a course of action may lead to heavy sniping, as you can quite well imagine. However, we got in all right by eight o'clock, and I wandered round my trenches until between 12 and 1 o'clock a.m. This morning we received a notice that we were to be withdrawn to reserve to-morrow or the next day, owing to more troops coming into the line. I had to take the General round who succeeds me in these trenches. He seemed such a nice man. We are supposed to leave to-morrow night if these people can get out from their trenches. The enemy is shelling us now, and as it is a particularly clear day they are using it to the best advantage to try and destroy us. I must turn our guns on to them if they go on like this. I only wish we could swamp the brutes with numbers and get the war over. I am not disturbed about Russia. If we can get the Dardanelles open, we can easily send her ammunition and equipment for her spare men, and so end the war more quickly; but, failing that, I think Russia will easily foil Germany, and spring at her again and again until she is worn out. I had a letter of congratulation from your sister Mabel. Very kind of her....

IN TRENCHES. Ash Wednesday, 1915.

A wet, muggy morning. I have been waiting for 3 hours to accompany the General round the lines since 6.30 a.m. At 9.30 I telephoned in, and found that he had gone to some other duty and forgotten me! However, it cannot be helped. He and I are really very friendly. More fighting on our right, with very heavy big gun fire. I expect the brickfields at La Bassee are again being a scene of mortal combat. We were ordered last night to try to ascertain if the Germans still occupied their trenches as usual; so we crept out and looked about, and found everything much the same. As to the khaki-coloured shirts, would you have them put away by sizes, please, when they are made up, till wanted; the present ones will wear out with a rush from being worn night and day, and from having been badly washed and scorched when drying, so they may be wanted in a hurry. Whilst waiting about here this morning, I amused myself by looking for shell holes round our ruins. So far as I can see, they are everywhere, like the holes in a sponge for numbers. My artillery is just going to blow up a house where the enemy hid a machine gun last night, and which opened on us during the night and thought we did not know! I also have another R.A. officer throwing tins full of gun cotton and nails into the German trenches at this very moment. A nice Christian occupation, truly! I ought to know in a few days if there is any chance of second leave or not.



LETTERS OF MARCH, 1915.

IN TRENCHES. March 1st, 1915.

I enclose you a letter from one of my old Generals, Sir John Keir. I wrote to congratulate him on receiving the "K" to his C.B., which I helped to win him at Boshbult, S. Africa, 1902. Do not trouble to send it back again. They have no children, and I have never met Lady Keir so far, but if I get back to England no doubt I shall, though his division is in Cork at present. Yesterday we were once more under heavy fire. One shell exploded beside two men who were trying to make some tea. I am sure the poor fellows, without thinking, gave away their position by having too large a fire. Anyway, this shell burnt everything round them, including the flaps of a barn door standing upright, with nothing inflammable near, but the doors were in a blaze in a moment, and also their clothes. One man had 18 holes in him; the other was dreadfully scorched and hurt. I gave him morphia tablets, but I'm afraid they did not do him much good; it was a mercy that the doctor arrived soon to give him a proper hypodermic injection. In one place we found a piece of shell about the size of a half lb. iron weight which had forced its way right through, and was just under the skin on the other side. We got that out, but he died shortly after. They shelled us again during the night, the brutes; however, we did not bother our heads much about that, and I had a very good night's rest from 10 o'clock until four a.m. After all, it was not G——S——'s husband that I met the other day. He turned out to be Capt. Sherlock of a Militia Artillery regt., one of the family, I fancy, who was tea-planting or something at Singapore before the war. As to smoked herrings, I cannot say that I am very fond of them, so I think that at present it would be as well not to send anything but cakes, mincepies, or tartlets. Mincepies are presumably over, so continue to send jam tartlets, please. Some day I will try to get our cook here to see what he can do, but I am afraid our soldier man needs more instruction before he can venture on pastry! Now I must stop, as I have a great deal of other business to get done....

They have started shelling us again, bless them!

March 3rd, 1915.

I was so busy yesterday that I had not a chance of sending you more than a postcard. They sent for me to a hurried conference of the General. I then rode off with another Colonel some miles, and after putting on waders had to reconnoitre our new trenches and go over other ground, marching along these under fire, with the mud, as usual, halfway up to my waist. Such is life over here. I returned about 3 o'clock, and then I had to settle the endless questions which arise in a regt. on active service, from getting the men new boots to arranging whether it was safe for the shoemaker to have a fire in his corner whilst he was busy cobbling. So far the tarts have not arrived. Perhaps they will presently. All the war news looks good; but it is a big war. I only wish I had been out with the "Rufford" at Weston last week. Such a horrible day here, raining hard and everything uncomfortable. I have managed to squeeze into a small house with my adjutant Capt. Wright, and he has to sleep on the boards where we have our meals, whilst the old lady and her servant cook our rations at 1-1/2 francs a day each. You should hear the French we talk!...

Glad the children liked the "meet."

March 4th, 1915.

Your letter did not turn up yesterday! I have been most busy with various things. If you saw my men in a spinning mill sleeping under engines, etc., you would wonder how we exist! Of course, Spring is coming on, and we shall then have to go in for business of the worst type; so whilst someone else is holding the lines, we are now trying to get our men fit for this work. Meals here are quaint, run by a servant girl. She brings breakfast of coffee without milk and an omelette, but we always have our ration of bacon as well. That was a difficulty at first, as neither the adjutant's nor my book gave the French for bacon. However, by introducing the word cochon, we arrived at the fact that here amongst her class it was called porc—so there we are! Then luncheon is a sad affair, with generally some cold thing followed only by cheese. At tea (made very weak) from our ration stuff, she now gives us toast, though there, again, we had no such word in our book. I managed to remember that it was pain roti, and we got along. Dinner is not bright, but yesterday we were blessed with a pudding of rice strongly flavoured with vanilla. To-day I am off for a wade with my officers to show them what they must learn about my new lines. Such a trouble as it is getting there, with shell flying and bursting all around one, and rifle bullets humming everywhere. I hate this business cordially, but what will you! If these scamps are not driven back, they will try to rule the world, and will kill and burn as they think fit, and that will not do at all! The Russians seem to be doing good work in killing the unfortunate Germans. Let us hope that the whole thing will go with a run now, and that it will not last much longer.... Love to the children....

P.S.—I lost two N.C.Os. killed yesterday by one bullet through their heads, and another of my poor men had his tongue cut out.

March 5th, 1915.

MY DEAREST F——

I am writing this in great haste, as I am just off to the General's on important business. I was most interested in reading various friends' letters on my "mention." What it has really been in the way of being shot at would cover a small campaign three times over, and I do not doubt many of my officers and men have had even a worse time than myself, and there is very much more hard work to come. The French Army can always produce fresh troops for each fresh job, but our smaller army has to send the same troops up to everything, and then when the regiment is reduced to fragments, it is filled up with anyone from anywhere, and to the authorities it is the same as the original good regiment. Before I forget, and in case anything happens to me, I want to tell you again that all my securities are at Cox; there is a list of them in my despatch case, and you will find one lot of title deeds that I had not as yet had time to look over in the Oak Room. I have been so hustled ever since coming from India that it has been impossible to attend to such things....

Yours with love.... G.B.L.

IN BILLETS. March 7th, 1915.

We have been very hard at work to-day. At 9.30 last night I received an order to arrange with the priest in a certain village for service the next morning. As my billets extend over a mile, you can imagine that I was not too pleased! This was followed at 11.30 p.m. by another order that we were to be on parade at 6 a.m. Getting home between 7 and 8 a.m., I had to hurry to early service, bolt some breakfast, and present myself at the General's house at 9 o'clock for a conference. Returning from that, I then had to hand in the men's winter kits. Next came the orders to move into fresh billets to-night in the dark. This with 1,000 men and 70 horses, whilst I must send a working party of four hundred men to a place 5 or 6 miles off at 10.30 p.m. to-night. How it is all to be done I have not been informed, but you can imagine the chaos that can ensue. We have been comfortable for the last two or three days. After our life in the trenches we can say that we have been very comfortable, because we have been able to wash daily and have a tub every second day, which things count much. I sent my Sam Browne belt, etc., home two days ago, as we are supposed to wear web equipment now like the men; and our swords have also been despatched. Mine has gone to Messrs. Cox's shipping agency through the Ordnance, with three labels on it addressed to you; it is well greased, and will not require overhauling, I trust, until I get back. We have had two days of rain, and things are rather nasty. My saddle-bags are quite useful on my second horse; they take a lot of my kit, including a pair of waders, with boots to go with them too. When the weather dries up a little, I shall return these and push other things in. I wish the war was well over, but I expect the Germans hate it worse than we do....

BILLETS. March 8th, 1915.

Our little march in the dark was accompanied with heavy rain squalls and the weather turning bitterly cold. We missed our billeting party in the darkness, for it was intense. I think the inside of a public house was appealing to them at the time, so I halted my men, and by sending mounted officers in every direction, with luck I caught some of them. And here we are again, and very comfortable. Of course, we still have our early rising to contend with, but otherwise for the moment things are pretty straight. These Irishmen are most amusing fellows; they can't be treated like the English soldier: one has to be much more strict with them, and ride them at other times with a much lighter hand. For the next few months, unless Germany collapses at once, there will be heavy fighting for us. I am glad to hear that the Russians are driving these knaves back. What it really means is that when the Germans fight a successful action, they lose a certain number of men whom they cannot replace, and use up ammunition which they cannot make in a hurry, and so the war gradually draws to its conclusion, I trust.... I had to fly away just then to deal with my many prisoners and my companies also. I am sorry you have had illness in the house; I am so used to sickness that it hardly appals me when it applies to other people. For instance, since I came out here, if you multiply the number of my Father's town house in Porchester Terrace by 10 [number invalided, 470] you will be below the numbers who have been invalided from my Bn. since I came to France, and before that there was Hursley Park, Winchester, and the voyage home from India, when I lived amongst sick men for some unknown reason. The weather is now varying between skiffs of snow and bright gleams of sunshine, but very, very cold....

March 9th, 1915.

Many thanks for your letter. My new puttees will be most useful, as my old ones are full of holes. We have, during the last day or so, had a strong wind, and the ground is drying up wonderfully, so it will not be so hard on puttees for the future. As a rule, when one walks across country, and struggles through muddy trenches without one's horse, one wears puttees if one is not wearing long gum boots; these latter keep the legs and feet drier, but the difficulty is that they are too heavy to walk very far in them. I had a long letter from Meta, which I enclose. I am sending two badges to the children from my old coat. I thought they might like them. I look forward very much to the cake you are sending, as the last parcel went astray. My new coat came last night. It is made out of very thick cloth, and altogether loose and useful. There always has been a battalion of the London Irish Rifles (Volunteers), now a territorial corps. The War Office would not allow them to belong to us, because Irish Regiments have no territorial Bns. In S. Africa, that Bn. (London Irish Rifles) sent us a company which was attached to our regiment throughout the war. I leave the Irish visit in your hands at present. The only leave I shall receive will be if I am wounded. There will be a lot of fighting of a bad sort from now on. It would never be surprising if one were hit. I have been mercifully preserved up to now; and, again, one must put one's trust in Providence....

MY DEAR LITTLE HAL,

I am enclosing one of the coat badges which I wore in S. Africa and in this war until this morning, when I received another coat from my tailor, so I thought you would like it to keep. I hope you are a good boy and working very hard, and are a help to Mummie.

Your affectionate DADDIE.

March 9th, 1915.

MY DEAR LITTLE BLANCHE,

I am also sending you one of my coat badges. This morning I received from my tailor a much warmer coat, I am glad to say, for I find it terribly cold being out all night in mud and ice-cold water. I am sure you are trying to be a very good girl and learning your lessons well.

Your loving DADDIE.

March 9th, 1915.

IN TRENCHES. VERY MUCH! March 11th, 1915.

I have had some very hard fighting since I wrote to you. Of course I knew it was coming off, but could not tell you exactly.... We lost a certain amount.... I am too busy, though, to write much, and I am out in the open feeling very cold, and will be in the mud all night, where, by the bye, I've been for the past three nights. A few of my officers have been killed, I regret to say, whilst the total of killed and wounded for my regiment alone has been three times the number of my father's house in P—— Terrace [total number, 141]. Can you imagine me charging down with the regiment shortly after dawn into Neuve Chapelle? I will write more about it all if I am spared. There is heavy fighting before us.

Yours ever.... G.B.L.

[Here the letters end abruptly, this being the last one written just after the taking of Neuve Chapelle. On the following day, March 12th, the Irish Rifles were ordered to advance to a further position, which, although the ground was gained, the task was an almost impossible one, the men being completely worn out after fighting hard several days and nights together.

The story of how Colonel Laurie led the charge will be found in the letters appended, with various other descriptions of the battle. Cheering on his men and calling to them to follow him, he fell in action mortally wounded. Thus was he summoned in a moment to a higher life, and his pilgrimage on earth was over].

R.I.P.



BUCKINGHAM PALACE, O.H.M.S.

To Mrs. Laurie, Carlton Hall, Carlton-on-Trent, Notts.

The King and Queen deeply regret the loss you and the Army have sustained by the death of your husband in the service of his country. Their Majesties truly sympathize with you in your sorrow.

Private Secretary.

(From Major Clinton Baker, Second-in-Command.)

R.I. RIFLES. 14/3/15.

DEAR MRS. LAURIE,

You will have received your dreadful news by telegram. I cannot tell you what a terrible loss it has been to the whole regiment, whose deepest sympathy you have. Our dear Colonel was killed on March 12th at 5.30 p.m. as he rose to lead a charge, revolver in hand—a fine example to us all. The end was instantaneous, no suffering.

His adjutant early next morning, out with me, was shot dead at my side, and we last evening after dark buried them side by side close to Neuve Chapelle. We had three terrific days' fighting (10th, 11th, 12th), and are still engaged. I will answer any questions you may ask as soon as I can. I am writing this in the position we captured, knowing that you must be longing for even a short letter. I cannot tell you what a loss I have suffered. You have my very deepest sympathy.

Yours most sincerely, W. CLINTON BAKER.

Everything will be sent home in due course.

(From the same.)

24/3/15.

I am glad to think that my hurried note was of some little comfort to you. It was written practically during the battle, so you must excuse its apparent briefness. My poor Colonel was absolutely without fear, a splendid example, which I am glad to say the men well followed. The grave is within two hundred yards of the German trenches and 50 yards from where he fell. It is now marked with the rough cross we put up, with his name on it, but I am getting a substantial one erected similar to those he had put up for all the regiment who have fallen during the last four months.

As he no doubt told you, we attended the Holy Communion together only five days before he fell.... I will have "Peace, perfect Peace" put on the cross. His sword was sent off to Cox and Co. about the 5th, and they will send it to you, together with all his other effects which have been sent off. But you should write to them.

I cannot tell you how I miss him; we were so much together every day and every night. Don't hesitate to write to ask me questions.

The first part of the fight I think he wrote and told you about; I know he said he was engaged in writing to you, on the 11th I think it was. The 10th was the day on which we stormed the trenches and took Neuve Chapelle. On the 11th we did little except get shelled, as we tried to sleep in some German trenches. On the morning of the 12th we were again in Neuve Chapelle, and for 2-1/2 hours endured a terrific shelling to which he paid no heed, and, as I told you, the fatal shot came at 5.20 p.m. just as, revolver in hand, I saw him about to get over our parapet and lead a charge. A true soldier's Death. Should I write to his Mother? I would rather not if you can do so, but will, of course, if you wish it. I am so sorry for you and for your poor children.

Yours very sincerely, W. CLINTON BAKER.

(From the same.)

1. R.I. RIFLES 12/4/15.

I am afraid I have been a very long time answering your letter of March 30th.

I hope you will be able to get a photograph of the grave, as Capt. Jeffares of our fourth Battalion, now attached to the 2nd Munster Fusiliers, who knew the Colonel well, writes that he has taken a photograph of it and will send you one. There will probably be only a rough cross on the grave, which we put up on the day he was buried. Capt. Jeffares wrote that he had tidied up round the grave.

One of our men soon after the fight wrote home as follows:—"Our Colonel and Adjutant lie side by side guarding the ground won till the last Trump!"

We have now lost Capt. Lanyon, very sad, so soon after Capt. Biscoe being killed. They had been inseparable friends for years.

Yours sincerely, W. CLINTON BAKER.

(From Brigadier-General Oldfield (at this time Major R.F.A., attached Royal Irish Rifles) to Hon. Lady Ross of Bladensburg.)

ON F.S. 18/3/15.

DEAR AUNT B——,

I am writing to tell you how Col. Laurie fell. I was talking to him just before his charge, and you will perhaps tell or not tell Mrs. Laurie what I write as you think fit. Part I saw and part I was told of after. On the 11th afternoon, after taking Neuve Chapelle, our Infantry was brought to a standstill, and the experiment was tried of rushing a field gun up to clear away houses, obstacles, etc., in the open. I was chosen for this task. After helping our Infantry in one place on 12th morning, I was told to help the R.I. Rifles to take some houses and a trench in the evening. I rushed over to arrange with him, and went into his trenches and among his men. All were very exhausted. He said they simply could not go on. We arranged to attack in the morning. I went to the Brigadier to say so, but found that he was ordered to attack at once. Col. Laurie knew it was almost impossible, but ran off to obey. I rushed to my gun. I just had time to blow in a barn before the time of attack came. His men tried again and again—only to be mown down. The ground between the two lines of trenches was thick with dead of both sides. Colonel Laurie said, "Follow me, I will lead you!" rushed out, and fell gallantly, shot dead at the head of his men. Is there a finer death? For myself, I escaped with my guns last night, and here I am resting after a desperate 9 days. But I lost my favourite subaltern and nearly every friend I had in the Division. I am still very lame, and this time has been very strenuous.

Your affec. nephew, L. OLDFIELD.

(From Colonel Laurie's Brigadier.[10])

March 23rd.

DEAR MRS. LAURIE,

You will have heard by now the sad news of your husband's death, and it is but cold comfort to offer you my sincerest sympathy. It will, however, be a satisfaction to you to hear how well he was thought of. He commanded his Battalion with distinction, and, I hoped, would have lived to have risen higher. He died a soldier's death, gallantly leading his men in the face of the enemy; and his memory will live among the gallant men who have done so much to keep the fine traditions of the British Army unsullied. He is buried with his brother officers near where he fell. If I can help you in any way, I hope you will not scruple to tell me. My wife will also have written to you, and is very anxious to hear if she can do anything for you.

Yours very truly, A. LOWRY COLE.

(From Lieutenant-Colonel Percy Laurie, D.S.O.)

HEADQUARTERS, 3RD CAV. DIV., EXPEDITIONARY FORCE. March, 1915.

MY DEAR F——,

My heart's right there with you. There is little doubt how he died, gallantly cheering on his men; the whole thing has made history. I will go over and get the fullest particulars, find his grave, have it carefully marked, and send you a photo. He would wish you to be like himself, brave and trusting in the future.

Let me know if I can do anything....

(From the same, later.)

I went over to-day to make inquiries and find George's grave. I went to his regiment and found a brother officer who was with him when he was killed. A bullet struck him to the right of the nose and killed him instantaneously; he was about to lead his regiment to the charge. His servant stayed with him, but has not been seen since; it is thought he has been hit by a shell. George is buried by the side of his adjutant in a little garden in the village, between two houses on the west side. The grass is marked by a cross, and is fenced round. I know the exact spot. 9 officers were killed, 9 wounded, 400 men killed and wounded. So the gallant old fellow rests with most of his officers and men. His personal effects have been collected and sent to you. Everyone was loud in their praise of him, and the General said he had lost a gallant officer. I could not reach the grave to-day, as it was not safe. I was nearly shot as it was! I got to within 200 yards. Let me know if I can do anything else for you. God bless you!

PERCY.



"AFTERWARDS."

A FEW OTHER LETTERS, EXTRACTS, ETC., RECEIVED IN 1915.

(The words of a brother officer—Major Cooke Collis, Brigade Major, 31st Brigade.)

1915.

... I hope Colonel Laurie did not suffer. It must help you to bear your sorrow to know that he died as he would have wished, fighting bravely for his country. I feel his death keenly; we were so much together in the old days, and now, how the regiment is changed, and how dreadfully they have suffered! But the name they have won for History will not easily be forgotten....

(Extract from a letter written by Rifleman Patrick White, "D" Coy., 1st Battalion Royal Irish Rifles.)

... Yes, it was our Battalion that Colonel G.B. Laurie commanded. I was about two yards from him when he was killed. Before I tell you how he came to be killed, I must tell you how sorry we all were. He was the best Colonel we ever had, he was always merry and bright, and had a smile for both his men and officers; he was a hero, as General French told us.

On the morning of March 9th he (Colonel Laurie) told us that we had to make a charge at a place called Neuve Chapelle. We were marched to the firing line that night, and our Colonel had a very nice meal ready for us before we went into the trenches.

About 7.30 the next morning there began the biggest bombardment I have ever heard—our big guns roared out. I thought hell had been let loose. I tried to look before me, but could see nothing but flame and smoke, and the roars of the big guns were terrible. In about an hour's time our Colonel gave us the word to fix bayonets and charge for the German trenches. He led us with a smile, and gained victory for our Battalion that day. During the whole time he took it nice and cool, and kept us all in good spirits. The following morning our Battalion was to make another advance, and it was in this advance we lost our brave and noble hero. When a platoon went over the parapet, some of our boys fell never to rise again, and our Colonel, seeing this, was looking over the parapet. There was an enfilading fire from the right, and we told the Colonel to keep his head down; but he was not thinking of himself, but of his men lying out there. Just then he was hit—shot through the head. We bandaged him up, but it was no good. Our brave Colonel had departed from us, and we can only hope that he has got his reward for his heroism in the next world....

(From 4872 Corporal J. Lennon, "A" Coy., 3rd Royal Irish Rifles, Victoria Barracks, Belfast.)

1915.

DEAR MADAM,

I now take the opportunity of writing to you as regards the death of your late husband, Colonel G.B. Laurie, who was O.C. of the 1st Bn. Royal Irish Rifles. He was my Commanding Officer for nearly two years. I followed him on the morning of March 10th, 1915, when the Battle of Neuve Chapelle was taking place. He was the first man who charged into Neuve Chapelle. I was present with him all through the battle, and I was with him when he met his death on March 12th just at 20 mins. to 5 o'clock, when he was about to lead the charge of his battalion. His death was instantaneous, and he was buried on March 13th: it was I who carried him in after he was wounded, and when I found that he was quite dead I said some prayers over his body. Major Wright was also wounded in the same battle. I was very sorry indeed about the death of my Commanding Officer. He was a soldier and a gentleman, fearless in all his actions and honest, just and upright. I will certainly never forget him for his kindness to me and all the men who fought under him.

I was mentioned in Sir J. French's Despatch along with my Commanding Officer, Colonel Laurie, for bravery at the Battle of Neuve Chapelle. You will find my name in the list. I regret his death very much; it was a great blow to me. Well, Madam, the only thing I have to say before concluding is that his relatives and friends may well be proud of him, because he was one of the bravest men that ever led men. I would very much like to have a photo of our Colonel, and I remain,

Your obedient servant, J. LENNON.

(From Earl Manvers.)

THORESBY PARK, OLLERTON, NOTTS. March 19th, 1915.

DEAR MRS. LAURIE,

I feel that I must send one line to say how deeply grieved I was to hear your husband had been killed at the front. I knew him as a most excellent sportsman, and mourn his loss very much. My deep sympathy is with you at this sad time when your home is made desolate.

Please do not think of answering this.

I remain, Yours sincerely, MANVERS.

(From Brigadier-General Farmar, C.B., C.M.G.)

HEADQUARTERS, 2ND ARMY. March 20th, 1915.

MY DEAR MRS. LAURIE,

I cannot tell you how shocked I was to hear the dreadful news: only to-night; but you at home must have heard of it days ago. B——'s letter was my first intimation. Somehow it came absolutely unexpectedly: of course, one lives in the middle of these awful sights and happenings, but he was so strong and so full of energy that it seemed unbelievable that he should be taken. He has been a friend of mine, and a very real one, for a good many years now. I saw him not long ago. He would have been sure to have got a Brigade soon if this terrible thing had not happened. I have heard no details, but will try and find out and tell you: unfortunately, his battalion is right at the other end of the line to where we are, but if I can get down I will. Dear Mrs. Laurie, I do feel for you most deeply, and my own loss of a friend as well. If there is anything I can do, it would be a kindness to ask me, and a relief to do something for you.

Yours very sincerely, JASPAR FARMAR.

(From Colonel Anderson.)

HEADQUARTERS, 8TH DIVISION. March 22nd, 1915.

DEAR MRS. LAURIE,

About ten days ago I received a copy of Col. Laurie's "History of the Royal Irish Rifles" which he had very kindly promised to send me. I was kept very busy on duty, so much so that I never had time to see him and thank him. And now, to my great grief, I have to write and tell you how very grateful I was for the book, and at the same time how very deeply I sympathize with you in your great loss. I need scarcely tell you how splendidly the Royal Irish Rifles did in the battle of Neuve Chapelle, and how grandly they were led by their Colonel.

My father had been in the 83rd many years ago, and I had written the history of my own regiment, so we had bonds of sympathy, and I had had several talks with your husband. So you must please accept my very deepest sympathy in his death, and in your very great loss.

Believe me, Yours sincerely, W. HASTURP ANDERSON.

(From a cousin.)

ANTRIM CASTLE, IRELAND. March 24th, 1915.

... I had the very greatest respect for George; he was an ideal soldier and comrade. May God in His mercy comfort you!...

MASSEREENE.

(From Mrs. Clinton Baker.)

BAYFORDBURY, HERTFORD. March 28th, 1915.

Writing of her son, she says: "Osbert feels his Colonel's death deeply. When telling me of it, he said: 'I could only write a short letter; I know you will have written to Mrs. Laurie to try to soften the blow.'—'Ten young officers and 250 men have now been sent out from home.'"

(From General and Mrs. Bird.[11])

22, ALBANY VILLAS, BRIGHTON. March 29th, 1915.

... We have not written to tell you how deeply we sympathize with you in your great sorrow, as I know letters are of no comfort in times of sadness, but to-day, in a letter we received, such words of admiration were written of Colonel Laurie that I felt I should like to write and repeat them: "Colonel Laurie handled his battalion to perfection during the attack on Neuve Chapelle, and his death is an irreparable loss to the 1st Battalion."

We have always heard what a splendid soldier Colonel Laurie was, and our country does so need such leaders now in the army to bring victory....

(From General Sir John Keir, K.C.B.)

May 4th, 1915.

DEAR MRS. LAURIE,

I have such a deep admiration and respect for your late husband, for Col. Laurie was, as you know, in command of the 28th M.I. in the column I commanded in S. Africa, where I learnt to appreciate his value as a soldier and his many other sterling qualities. After the campaign we used to hear from one another on occasions of mutual congratulation and the like. His loss to the Service is a very great one, but one cannot imagine a more glorious ending to a fine career, falling at the head of the regiment he loved so well, and which he led with such skill and bravery. His name remains one held in honour for all time.

Yours sincerely, J.N. KEIR.



(From General the Right Hon. Sir Nevil Macready, G.C.M.G., K.C.B.)

WAR OFFICE. April 2nd, 1915.

MY DEAR MRS. LAURIE,

Only yesterday I was aware of your address. I write only a line to ask you to accept my deep and sincere sympathy in the loss you have sustained. You indeed have given to the Country of your best, and if there is any consolation it may be in the fact that my old friend died as every soldier would wish to, at the head of his battalion in a successful action.

Trusting you and the children are well.

Yours ever sincerely, C.N. MACREADY.

(From W.F.E. Denison, Esq.)[12]

OSSINGTON, NEWARK, NOTTS. July 18th, 1915.

DEAR MRS. LAURIE,

Thank you so much for sending me that nice photograph of Colonel Laurie. I think the likeness is excellent. I am so glad to possess it, and shall value it greatly always. I do think of him so constantly, every time I go by Carlton and see all the things there in which he took so great an interest, and the fields where one went shooting, and he was so keen about it all. There is a recollection for me at almost every gateway. He was indeed a most kind and sympathetic neighbour to us and a real friend. Thank you again and again for the photograph; it is most kind of you to have sent it to me.

Yours very sincerely, W.F.E. DENISON.



Lady Cicely Pierrepont wrote:—

THORESBY PARK, OLLERTON, NOTTS. September 15th, 1915.

DEAR MRS. LAURIE,

... I have never had the opportunity till now of telling you how we all felt Colonel Laurie's death, nor how much his unfailing cheery and cheering presence in the hunting field has been and will again be missed by all who had the pleasure of knowing him, and everybody who hunted with him will always retain the very pleasantest memories of his kindness....

The following is an extract from 4th Corps Orders, dated March 14th, 1915, by Lieutenant-General Sir Henry Rawlinson, Bart., K.C.B., C.V.O.:—

"The brilliant success which the troops of the 4th Corps have achieved in the capture of Neuve Chapelle is of the first importance to the Allied cause, especially at this period of the war. The heroism and gallantry of the regimental Officers and men, and the assistance afforded them by the artillery units, is deserving of the highest praise, and the Corps Commander desires to congratulate them on the severe defeat they have inflicted on the enemy, whose losses amount to not less than 4,000 men in killed and prisoners alone. The magnificent behaviour of the infantry units is deserving of the highest commendation, and in deploring the loss of those gallant comrades who have given their lives for their King and Country, Sir Henry Rawlinson hopes that all Officers and men fully realize that what they have accomplished, in breaking through the German line, is an achievement of which they should all feel justly proud."



THE LATE COLONEL LAURIE.

To the Editor of the "Irish Times."

SIR,

I was moved even to tears, which I trust were not unmanly, at your touching reference to the glorious death, last Sunday, of my dear, lamented friend, Colonel Laurie, who would, I had hoped, in the course of nature, have survived me for many a year. It may, perhaps, be of interest to your readers to know that this gallant soldier, who—I can speak with some knowledge—proved himself excellent in every relation of life, and who, felix opportunitate mortis, died for us and for our liberties at the head of a renowned Irish regiment—the Royal Irish Rifles—had, though not himself an Irishman, connections and associations with this country of which he was justly proud. His wife is a great granddaughter of the Right Hon. John Foster (Lord Oriel), the last Speaker of the Irish House of Commons. He himself was the great-grandson of an illustrious Irishman, Dr. Inglis, the Bishop of Nova Scotia, who was the first Anglican Colonial Bishop ever consecrated—a Trinity College, Dublin, man, and the son of a rector of Ardara, in Donegal. Dr. Inglis emigrated to America, and was, on the eve of the War of the American Independence, Rector of Holy Trinity Church, New York, then (and I believe now) the principal Anglican Episcopal Church in that city. Dr. Inglis was a pronounced loyalist. He was warned not to read the State prayers for the King and the Parliament. He disregarded the warning. His reading of those prayers was interrupted by forced coughs and sneezings and other manifestations of disfavour. He was then the recipient of many threatening letters. On the next Sunday his voice, when reading the obnoxious prayers, was drowned by a clattering of arms. On the Sunday following guns were actually levelled at him as he read the prayers quite undismayed, having, like his great-grandson, the heart and courage of a hero. Yielding to the entreaties of friends, he left New York for Canada, and on his return, more than twenty years afterwards, to New York, when Bishop of Nova Scotia, he disinterred a magnificent silver coffee pot which he had buried on the eve of his hurried departure, and found in the place he had left it. That coffee pot is a precious heirloom in Colonel Laurie's family. There is a brass tablet to the memory of Dr. Inglis in St. Patrick's Cathedral, erected there by the enthusiasm of Chancellor H.V. White, Rector of St. Bartholomew's, whose own ministry was for some years in the Colonies.

Colonel Laurie's father, General J.W. Laurie, C.B.[13], served with great distinction in the Crimea, where he was twice wounded; in the Indian Mutiny, and in the Transvaal. He was Honorary Colonel of the Royal Munster Fusiliers, and, having sat for some years in the Canadian House of Commons, was from 1895 till 1906 Unionist Member in the Imperial Parliament for the Pembroke Burghs, and a prime favourite with all sorts and conditions of men in the House of Commons. Colonel Laurie's elder brother, Captain Haliburton Laurie, who was one of the most deservedly loved men of his generation, fell in the Boer War in 1901. If he had not been a great soldier, Colonel Laurie would have been a great historian. His knowledge of history, more especially of military history, was profound, and his memory was singularly retentive. He had, moreover, a very sound judgment in the marshalling of facts. He had written with a pen of light the history of his regiment, which he loved, and which loved him, and on which in life and in death he had shed additional lustre.

Yours, etc., J.G. SWIFT MACNEILL.

DUBLIN, March 20th, 1915.



(From the "Irish Telegraph," March 20th, 1915.)

R.I. RIFLES ENGAGED.

LIEUT.-COLONEL LAURIE KILLED.

OTHER REGIMENTAL LOSSES.

Information reached Belfast yesterday that Lieutenant-Colonel George Brenton Laurie, commanding the 1st Battalion Royal Irish Rifles, was killed in action, near Neuve Chapelle, last Sunday. The deceased officer was exceedingly well known in Belfast, where he commanded the Rifles Depot for three years, and the news of his demise has been received with sorrow at Victoria Barracks. He was closely connected by marriage with the North of Ireland.

COLONEL LAURIE'S MILITARY CAREER.

Lieutenant-Colonel George Brenton Laurie, Commanding Officer of the 1st Battalion Royal Irish Rifles, who has died a soldier's death at the head of the gallant 83rd, will long be remembered by the old corps, in which he spent thirty years. He was the author of the splendid "History of the Royal Irish Rifles" which was issued last year, and dedicated by him to the regiment on the 125th anniversary of the raising of the 83rd and 86th Foot, now the 1st and 2nd Battalions of the Rifles. He considered the writing of that history, which runs into 540 pages, a fitting close to his career in the regiment, but he remained on in the Service, and the unexpected European War has made it otherwise, and now he has ended his career on the field of battle. The closing words of his preface were:—

"May the officers and men of the Royal Irish Rifles win yet more laurels for their regiment by their staunchness whenever their Sovereign calls for their services in war!"

When Colonel Laurie penned those words last spring, he little dreamt that within a few short months the officers and men of both the 83rd and 86th would be shedding their life's blood freely in France, and now he himself has made the supreme sacrifice, and with Captains Master, Reynolds, Davis, Kennedy, Stevens, Allgood, Whelan, Miles, Biscoe, Lieutenants Rea, Whitfield, Burges, and Tyndall, Second-Lieutenants Magenis, Davy, Gilmore, Swaine, and Eldred—many of them his old comrades—sleeps his last long sleep in a foreign grave.

The son of a soldier (the late General Laurie), Colonel Laurie received his first commission in the Rifles in September, 1885, and joined the 2nd Battalion, then quartered at Halifax, the last station occupied by British infantry in Canada, and it is interesting to recall that he was the last officer to join the battalion with the rank of Lieutenant, as an Army Order issued some time later directed subalterns to begin service as Second-Lieutenants. Halifax, Colonel Laurie tells us in his history of the regiment, was a delightful station, and all were sorry to leave it, the men especially so, and over 300 of them gave in their names as married without leave. Lieutenant Laurie moved with the battalion to Gibraltar in November, 1886, and to Egypt in January, 1888. In 1889 Lieutenant Laurie went up the Nile with the battalion, which was detained at Assouan so long that it missed the fight at Toski. He afterwards served at Malta and in various home stations, and did not again see active service until 1901, when he was sent from England as a special service officer for mounted infantry work, and took command of No. 2 Mounted Infantry Company of the 2nd Battalion of the Rifles.

In the action at Hartbeestefontein he had a narrow escape, riding some 300 yards in front of his company in a charge, with one corporal. They were surprised from a house at 25 yards range, and the corporal saved his life by shooting a man in the act of aiming at his officer.

He distinguished himself in the action at Klerksdorp and in the pursuit of Niewhoudt's commando, and on February 26th, 1902, was ordered to Pretoria to take command of the 28th Battalion Mounted Infantry, handing over his company to Lieutenant Low, who was killed a fortnight later. Captain Laurie was highly commended by Colonel Rochfort for his services with the Rifles Mounted Infantry in these words:—

"During the whole of my time in South Africa I did not command better or more mobile troops than the two mounted infantry companies of the Royal Irish Rifles under Captain Laurie and Captain Baker."

For his services in the war Captain Laurie was mentioned in despatches, and received the Queen's medal with clasps. A step in rank came in 1904, and in 1911 Major Laurie had the honour of commanding the detachment of the 2nd Royal Irish Rifles which was sent from Dover to London to attend the Coronation of King George. On October 28th, 1912, Major Laurie was promoted to the command of the 1st Battalion, then at Kamptee, Lieutenant-Colonel O'Leary's term having expired. He brought the regiment from India to Aden, and last October it was moved to England prior to going to France in the following month.



("Belfast Newsletter," March 20th, 1915.)

FROM NEUVE CHAPELLE.

BELFAST REGIMENT'S PART.

HEROISM OF COLONEL LAURIE.

Interesting particulars of the part played by the 1st Battalion Royal Irish Rifles in the attack on Neuve Chapelle are given by Sergeant-Major Miller, who is now in the Mater Misericordiae Hospital, Dublin, with a severe wound in the eye received on that occasion. The Rifles formed part of the Fourth Army Corps, which, with the Indian Corps, as reported by Field-Marshal French, carried out the assault on the German lines. Prior to the action General Sir Henry Rawlinson inspired his troops with an address, in which he said:—

"The attack which we are about to undertake is of the first importance to the Allied cause. The army and the nation are watching the result, and Sir John French is confident that every individual in the Fourth Army Corps will do his duty and inflict a crushing defeat on the German Seventh Corps, which is arrayed against us."

This, says the sergeant-major, was the only intimation of the enemy's strength. Had it been otherwise, the result would have been the same. On the first day of the attack their Commanding Officer, Colonel Laurie, seemed to have a charmed life. He deliberately walked up and down, giving orders and cheering the men on amid a flood of fire. He seemed unconscious of the fact that a great bombardment was taking place. It was a wonderful sight to see him there, his big military figure standing out boldly in presence of his soldiers. Colonel Laurie and his adjutant were killed the next day, in spite of the charm which seemed to surround his life on the previous day. The sergeant-major is unable to state how many men the Rifles lost. He is getting on favourably, and comrades from the 3rd Battalion at Wellington Barracks are permitted to visit him.

Sergeant Murphy, of the 3rd Battalion of the Rifles, has received a letter from his brother (who was wounded with the Rifles at Neuve Chapelle, and is now in hospital at Brighton), in which he says:—"I think I am a lucky man to get away at all. Our Commanding Officer, Colonel Laurie, was killed, and all our officers have been nearly washed out. There was an awful bombardment between the two armies, and it was only a very odd man that got away without being wounded. The Germans lost heavily; so did we. I was in a ward with the Germans, and they told me they were glad they got wounded, for they would have to be killed anyway."

Rifleman Sharkey, who was wounded, and is in hospital at Netley, writes:—"We got a bad cutting-up, and lost our beloved Colonel and adjutant and the two officers of our company."



("Morning Post," September 20th, 1916.)

THE ROYAL IRISH RIFLES.

ULSTER GALLANTRY.

(From a Military Correspondent.)

"Well done; very well done indeed." Such was the remark of a General standing at a Ginchy debris heap as the Irish battalions moved past him on the way to a rest point in the captured line. The numbering of the platoons did not reach the morning's total, but the men had conquered, and they bore aloft the trophies of the battle, helmets and such like, which they waved at the General. All had contributed to the joy of Ireland from Cork to Derry, Ulsterman and Nationalist, and the Royal Irish Rifles had made Belfast glad.

Colonel Fitch raised the regiment in Dublin six score years ago, and the Army of that time called them "Fitch's Grenadiers," because the men were small of stature. When they fought they were as giants, and later on the good physique of the men and their hardy endurance earned them the name of the "Irish Giants." One branch of the regiment was raised in County Down, and to-day the name is perpetuated in the 4th and 5th Battalions, which are known as the Royal Down Militia, despite official changes of designation; and as a further link with the past the depot is in Belfast and the Record Office in Dublin.

When mobilization was ordered, one battalion of the Royal Irish Rifles was scorching under the sun at Aden, and the other was at Tidworth, on Salisbury Plain. The former were to take over the barracks of the latter, which unit was to commence at Malta, in the Winter of 1914, and a tour of service abroad. The latter, however, went out with their Tidworth comrades. It would be covering very old ground to repeat what magnificent work was done in the Great Retreat, when the Royal Irish Rifles showed themselves possessed of the grit which had characterised them at Stormberg, where the writer witnessed them scaling the face of a cliff of rock to get at the Boers, who had ambushed Gatacre's force—an unforgettable and heroic sight. In the retreat towards Paris and the advance to the Aisne Lieutenant-Colonel W.D. Bird, Major C.R. Spedding, and a dozen others were mentioned by Lord French, and a D.S.O., a Military Cross, several D.C.M.'s, a Medaille Militaire, and a special promotion resulted, this being the beginning of many subsequent rewards.

In the Ypres—Armentieres phase of the campaign, when the British Army skilfully withdrew to the north of the line, the 7th Brigade repulsed heavy assaults, and both battalions of the Royal Irish Rifles added to their lists of distinguished names. The victory at Neuve Chapelle further increased the record of the regiment, whose men charged the enemy in splendid fashion. Lieutenant-Colonel Laurie was killed, and his adjutant, Captain Wright, fell by his side, while Major Alston was also killed. All three were mentioned in despatches, as well as a score of others. At Hooge the Royal Irish Rifles tried to force their way into the enemy's lines through uncut entanglement in the face of machine-gun fire, and their conduct all through the Loos operations was evidence of the high character of the regiment.

In the operations under Sir Douglas Haig in the early part of 1916 trench warfare, with its brilliant raids, two battalions were named for distinguished conduct, and the numbers as well as the names of the battalions were published in the list issued to the Press.

When the great advance began on July 1st, the Ulster Division attacked the strongest position in the line, and suffered heavily. An officer, describing this glorious attack, wrote:—"I am not an Ulsterman, but as I followed the amazing attack of the Ulster Division on July 1st, I felt that I would rather be an Ulsterman than anything else in the world." With shouts of "Remember the Boyne" and "No surrender, boys," they threw themselves at the Germans, and before they could be restrained had penetrated to the enemy's fifth line. The Royal Irish Rifles went through hell that day, and sought out the machine gunners at the bayonet's point. There has been nothing finer in the war than this charge.

What the regiment did at Guillemont and Ginchy is the talk of the moment, for, with the other Irish battalions, they accounted for all who came in their front—Guards, Line, and guns. Perhaps the two latest awards are among the best. The Victoria Cross was won by Privates Robert Quigg and William McFadzean. The former went out seven times in the heaviest fire for wounded men. The latter gave his life for his comrades by throwing himself on the top of two bombs and taking the whole force of the two explosions. He was blown to pieces. There are many other battle phases and incidents worthy of record, but that which has been written is enough to show what the old 83rd and 86th Foot, the men of County Down, Belfast, Antrim, the Young Citizens, and the others have done, and are doing, in this tremendous combat.



SPECIAL ORDER OF THE DAY BY HIS MAJESTY THE KING.[14]

OFFICERS, NON-COMMISSIONED OFFICERS AND MEN—

I am very glad to have been able to see my Army in the Field.

I much wished to do so in order to gain a slight experience of the life you are leading.

I wish I could have spoken to you all, to express my admiration of the splendid manner in which you have fought and are still fighting against a powerful and relentless enemy.

By your discipline, pluck and endurance, inspired by the indomitable regimental spirit, you have not only upheld the tradition of the British Army, but added fresh lustre to its history.

THE END