6/5/17 The night has been very stormy, much to the discomfiture of many as most of the tents are decidedly obsolete, the cavas of all is easily porous and full of holes, or the doors are hanging in tatters. When I turned out a bitterly cold wind was blowing which pierced to ones bones. On duty at 8 am until 2 pm at least this was my term of work according to schedule. I was however destined to be up against it again very shortly after arriving at the signals office. It was in this way: I posted for censuring three separate packets to my Aunt Ada to avoid being over the weight for letter post 2nd. Lt. Black however thought otherwise and quickly brought them back to me, with the remark that they must be made up into one packet and paid for. This silly attitude on the part of an officer was of course rank impudence, originating from a paltry mind steeped in ignorance and stupidity. I have in fact (like every Tommy) come up against quite a lot of this particular sort of childishness, which is unfortunately one, of the chief characteristics of a certain type of individual who it would seem have all got commissions in the army. I took them back of course, but promptly re posted one of them. This was apparently too much for such weak brains to stand and after a conference of officers I was instructed by the aforesaid Black in a voice almost out of breath with excitement to “go, pack up my kit, and be ready as soon as possible to proceed to Peronne”. A boxcar was already waiting outside to take me there. This by the way was just what I deserved or something like it for several reasons. Outstations of this sort are considered decidedly preferable to larger formations and units, upon very sensible grounds too. In spite of the fact that Peronne is a very heavily pressed little office, still, no matter there are other items to be considered of perhaps of greater importance as the effect ones health and happiness and are worth at least weighing fairly in the balance. The rationing here is a thousand times better and as much and more than one could eat, while at the army Headquarters, one lived a life of semi-starvation. Conveniences are better and last but not least one has considerably more freedom. In fact we are completely free from humbug and are simply allowed to carry on in our own time. I arrived at the “Exchange” Peronne about midday. Had my particulars of service etc. noted in the orderly room, was shown a place to sleep, on the 2nd story of our signal office. Had my dinner and went straight on duty until 4.30 pm. After tea I looked about for a bed. I found a large door, with wire netting already placed neatly across it, the panels having previously been knocked out leaving only the framework, a small chest of drawers minus the drawers I placed it upon its side and discovered that in this position, it served admirably the purpose of bed legs. Coming across a neat little affair with two shelves I placed beside my bed, which makes an excellent little cupboard for my cleaning, tackle, washing materials and other odds and ends. In spite of all the fearful wreckage, not a single house or building remains unscathed from the blast of war and the depredations of the Germans. Still there is a little left, which testifies to the prosperity and well being, which the inhabitants of this unfortunate town enjoyed in pre-war days. I shall have more to say I hope about this later on. After fixing up my bed etc. I went out to the rear of the house, climbed over the rubbish (I noticed that server dug-outs had been dug in the garden) and crossed the road to get to the moat, where I spent over an hour writing my diary, sitting in a dilapidated arm chair, which sported a quartet of near brick legs. It was very comfy none the less. On duty again at 8 pm to work all night.
Posted on: Thu, 05 Sep 2013 16:57:36 +0000
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