Chapter 5

~ Devon, England, Aug. 1914 ~

Dear George,

I guess I had no idea what to expect when I joined up, but life in the army isn't exactly how I'd pictured it. You were right – it is a lot less glamorous than I had imagined. I don't know I'd have managed if it hadn't been for my friend William. We met on the train over here and I sincerely hope that you get a chance to meet him. He is a most interesting fellow and seems to have an excess of positivity and optimism – an approach to life, as I am learning, which is most valuable. I do miss you though, George, and I wish that you were here so that I might share these experiences with you. I suppose it's because, well, we've done everything together, haven't we? Now I'm not sharing one of the biggest experiences of my life with you, and that feels strange.

Since I've arrived here, it's been made clear that hard work is the only way in which we can defeat the Germans. We went on another 10 mile run today, adorned in our heavy backpacks, but the torrential rain was the main problem. The more it rained, the muddier it got, and the more we slipped and got stuck, and the bigger the punishment became from the Major in charge here. If you ask me, he seems rather too big for his boots and so young to be a commander – what you said about military appointments must be true for this boy. He seemed rather put out at my modest promotion ceremony.

Oh goodness! – did you hear that I'd been promoted to Captain? I can't quite believe it myself and can't think what I've done to deserve it. They said something about my remarkable performances in which I demonstrated soldierly traits, but I think that someone must have informed them of my father. They offered me new accommodation in the officers building, with proper beds and mattresses, but I declined. You see, the men that I have grown and learnt with over the past few weeks are wonderful people and I can't imagine getting through this without them. Besides, I've heard that all they do in the officers' cabin is drink and, quite frankly, we have more fun in our humble cabin. The other day, Richard's mother sent him a gramophone with some records and some of the lads wanted to be taught how to waltz - we had a wonderful time!

Anyway, I was surprised to find that over these few weeks my stamina has increased and thus I could cope quite well with the run. I didn't come in any kind of position though, because I had promised William that I would run at his side. Poor soul, he does tend to struggle with some of the exercises and seems rather short of breath, though he denies that he's asthmatic. He fell towards the end and has damaged his ankle, so I had to help him to the finishing post, but we did get there which is more than we can say for some of the lads with us.

You asked in your previous letter whether I had managed to successfully fire a gun yet and the answer is: yes, I have. After basic marching and formation, one of the first things we were taught was loading and reloading a gun to fire. Some of the more experienced men are brilliant shots, getting the target every time. For me, however, it took a little longer. I wouldn't go so far as to say that I'm poor at shooting and I can reload my gun swiftly enough, but I only just clip the target from long range. It's not the same as using a rapier like my father taught me. It doesn't feel natural. Still, I am sure that I will be able to pick it up over the coming weeks in preparation for France. It's compulsory, especially now that I have to set an example.

It has been some time since your last letter and I find myself wondering how things are going in the cavalry division? Last I heard you were in the countryside attempting to find horses to mount and further volunteers to be escorted to training camps such as this. I understand that you must be very busy, but if you ever have some time to come and visit an old friend, I know that I would be delighted to see you. We have so much more to talk about that I just don't have time to include in my letters. Besides, there is talk of us being sent to France soon, so I'm not sure when you'll get another opportunity.

I hope that you are quite well and that your excursions have been successful. I look forward to hearing from you and eagerly await your next letter.

Your dearest friend,

Thomas Parker

Dear Tom,

Congratulations are in order, I believe! It is relatively unheard of for such an early promotion – you must have excelled beyond expectations in training. Some of us actually have to work our way through the ranks and even then don't get such a high status. Have you told your father yet? I know you wish to be separate from him, but he is still your father and he would be so proud to hear the news, I am sure.

One piece of advice that I would give you, my friend, is to not completely isolate yourself from the other officers. I know that a lot of the time they can be a drunken bore – and by the sound of things, that Major is a right piece of work – but they are your allies, after all, and they are the people that you shall be working most closely with when you get to France. You sound like you have already earned a great deal of respect from your men, but you won't be able to properly take care of them unless you befriend your equals and superiors. However, I know you and therefore I can say with the utmost sincerity that I can think of no one better to captain the 3rd Division Infantry than you. Well done, my friend, I wish I could have been there to share that moment with you.

You are quite right – we were scouting the countryside when you wrote your previous letter, which is why I am a little late in replying. For this, I apologise. We have found some very beautiful horses, which we believe will fare very well during the war. Mine is a lovely dapple grey, whose owner named her Snowdrop. I am not sure, myself, whether she suits such a name. I tried to come up with several others, but she only responds to this one. The other officers have made a point of teasing me regularly about it, of course. You see we each have our own share of troublesome superiors. We call our Major Shitbrick, because he is full of shit and has a humour as dry as a brick. Not very imaginative, but what can I say? – it's stuck now! Our Captain's enthusiasm also borders on psychotic. He scares most comrades, a situation not helped by the fact that he is afraid of horses. Why in God's name would you appoint a Captain to lead a division of cavalry if he's scared of horses? He'll ride it, but he's totally out of control. The other day, he nearly charged straight into the lake.

So our officers, too, are a continued source of ridicule and amusement amongst the men. However we have been very lucky in the acquisition of our recent accommodation. A family in Somerset have nobly surrendered their home to us for our personal training. The mansion is large enough to house us in our hundreds, with fifteen sleeping in each room. But it is the grounds which are of most use to us – nearly 15 acres! This includes woodlands, open lawns and the lake, perfect conditions to practice full cavalry charges. We are very fortunate.

However, I will be able to speak further to you when we visit your division before you are to be transported to France. I have managed to persuade my superiors that it would be beneficial to boost the men's spirits by visiting them and ensuring that we are 100% behind their endeavours; to show them that the cavalry will support them no matter what. This will allow me time to see you and dissuade you from this 'William' chap (I'll remind him who your best friend really is) though I wish that I could travel with you to France.

So, till then, I hope that you remain well and healthy, and I very much look forward to seeing you again.

Your dearest friend,

George Richards