James Owen - The Times Great War Letters - Correspondence during the First World War

The hotels at St. Moritz are throwing open their doors in a very hospitable fashion to our wounded and invalid officers. A certain number of these will be received gratis, the others at merely nominal charges, and the local medical men are generously offering their professional services free. There will be no subscriptions demanded from officers for the use of rinks, or any outdoor or indoor amusements. I may here mention that the Swiss Government offers a warm welcome to our soldiers, provided they do not appear in our own uniform, and the War Office offers no objection whatever to their going.

Any officers wishing, therefore, to avail themselves of the opportunity presented to them of recruiting health and strength in the splendid climate of the Engadine are requested to apply to Georgina Countess of Dudley, British Red Cross Society, 83, Pall-mall.

I am, Sir, yours truly,

J. FRANK HOLLAND, M.D., H.B.M. Consul

11 December 1914

SIR,—THE WEATHER IS very cold, and the troops are very wet, and the mud is very bad, and the embarcation officer at Southampton sends our parcels to the German by mistake, and Mr. Penoyre proves to be an elderly alien female enemy making enormous profits out of sweaters in Mile End-road, and everything is wrong and it’s all the fault of the Government.

Thus my correspondents. Otherwise I should have thought that the Government of this country is engaged at its proper task of carrying on war advantageously with the enemy. To this end it has called for brave hearts, and is now engaged in equipping the brave bodies that contain them. But this will take till the day after to-morrow or longer, and meantime voluntary help, such as your readers have lavished through me, must do its best and keep its temper. I am very sorry, Madam, that one of your mits got into the Gloucester’s sack and the other into the Worcester’s. But would ladies please stich these most useful things together? And, yes, Madam, it is quite true that I did give your nice golf coat (the very small one of rose du Barry silk with the lace insertions) to a Belgian lady—and much comforted she was, poor thing. But would some of my kind senders mingle more discretion with their kindness?

I submit that the knell of Empire will not sound for these blunders of mine. But I do foresee grave ill if once the great civil population of these islands begins to count as a thing of any merit the little they can give and do for those who, through wet and cold and worry and waiting, give and do all for us. It is laid on us all, as never before, to do our utmost and keep, though it be a very mask for tears, a cheerful countenance.

I had almost forgotten. I want, please, a great many more sweaters to dye khaki, and a great many more ladies’ golf coats—long or short, but not the very small ones. The response to my asking for these has been prodigious, I know, but I want a great many more.

Yours faithfully,

JOHN PENOYRE

28 December 1914

SIR,—AT AN AUDIT dinner held here yesterday the farmers present stated that on the previous Friday night the ewe flocks for a distance of 20 miles round had been scared, had smashed through their pens, and were found scattered about the country. One farmer stated that his ewes had been penned in by iron hurdles strong enough to contain bullocks, but the sheep in their mad rush had broken them down.

The general opinion was that an aeroplane must have passed over the district and frightened the ewes, and I was asked to write to the War Office about it. The evidence of this, however—to the effect that some one in a neighbouring town was reported to have heard an aeroplane that night—is too slender to justify me in troubling the War Office at this moment. Moreover, the same thing happened three years ago, and one of the farmers present recalled a similar occurrence 20 years back, long before aeroplanes were invented.

The matter is of some importance, because an injury to our ewe flocks at this period of the year may prejudicially affect the lambing season. It is possible that the cause may be traced to some atmospheric disturbance, and it is in the hope that some one may be able to suggest the true factor in the case that I have ventured to trouble you with this letter.

Your obedient servant,

HOLCOMBE INGLEBY

2 January 1915

SIR,—MANY SWORDS SENT home from the front by the regimental authorities have been so badly labelled that it has been impossible to identify them, and they lie derelict. Some also are said to have disappeared en route . The pain caused to relatives by the non-receipt of a lost one’s sword is great. Every care should be taken in the transmission of so precious a relic.

Yours,

THE FATHER OF AN OFFICER KILLED IN ACTION

“GOING WEST”

4 January 1915

SIR,—IN REFERENCE TO the question in one of your “Letters from the Front” in to-day’s issue, as to the origin of the soldiers’ expression for death—“going west”—it may be of interest to your readers to know that the idea that the souls of the departed have to journey westwards is a very ancient one. It was the belief of the ancient Egyptians and Babylonians. The sun was supposed to descend through a hole in the ground and to travel all night eastwards through the realms of the dead. Souls had thus to travel west to reach the entrance to this happy underworld. The belief is still held by many pagan peoples all over the world—Brazilians, Australians, and Fijians, among others. Dr. F. B. Jevons (“Introduction to History of Religion,” here) says:—

“The funeral dirges of the Dayaks describe how the spirits of the departed have to run westwards at full speed through brake and briar over rough ground and cutting coral to keep up with the sun and slip through the crashing gates by attaching themselves to him. The ghost who could not keep up with the sun and arrive at the entrance simultaneously with him had to recommence the journey next day.”

Yours, &c.,

ETHEL M. WALLACE

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