《Jacob's War》Extract from Jacob's Diary, December 2nd 1915
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What a journey that was! We departed from Blighty just four days ago although it feels a lifetime away.
We packed up our gear on Tuesday night, barring the essentials, and it went ahead of us. Wednesday morning the train took us to Folkestone, where we sat about for an hour until the Captains arranged a match of football between the best of the two Companies. This kept us duly entertained until it was time to board the ferry, but I fear we failed our dear Captain ‘Charlie’ Dean and he lost two shillings to his opposite number. His faith in us is touching, and we will ensure it’s not misplaced when the battles start.
On arrival in France they loaded us into another train which rattled through pretty countryside, so far untouched by war. On Thursday we arrived at a large French town, where keen as we were to sample the local hostelries we were at once ordered to march up to the village in which they billeted us. Four hours marching didn’t improve our mood any, nor did seeing the barn in which they expected us to spend the night. Without proper gear (we trust it is on the way somewhere, but we fear we shall never see it again) we had to make beds of straw and stuff our packs with hay to form pillows. A greatcoat makes a passable blanket, and might be less scratchy than the real item.
Friday was miserable, a day of route marches and damp drizzling rain more penetrating than a good solid downpour would have been. By the time we reached our new camp there wasn’t a man that didn’t question his decision to join up. However, God in his infinite mercy had sent before us a battalion of regulars who had the place ship-shape for our arrival, and they prepared a meal which reawakened our love for our fellow man.
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Over dinner they told us tales of the battle they had not long been fighting, in Loos. Others of Kitchener’s Army (as they call us new folks) had fought there for the first time and I was proud to hear they had acquitted themselves well. In fact, it is in their honour they treated us so kindly on our arrival, as our hosts viewed them, and us by association, most highly.
The battle itself was not so happily spoken of, however. Both sides suffered for little gain, and rumour has it the British and French forces came away more badly than the enemy. Our colleague’s tales of gas attacks and grenade assaults started to put the fear into us until our Captain stepped in to alter the subject to one more cheerful.
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