Posted: May 26, 2015 by saraherhodes in 1915

The Age of Miracles has not passed yet. Today I received a full week’s mail. The fact that it is a month old doesn’t matter in the least. It is just glorious to see your hand writing again. We seem to get absolutely to  the end of our tether, and think we can’t stand it another day if something doesn’t happen, or some letters arrive, when they turn up again. We all sent our names into H.Q. asking for our letters and didn’t expect them for about three days, but Guy Fisher happened to be in Cairo and managed to get me my lot of the 25th March. You can guess how I pored over them.

Things have been going very quietly here. A batch of 1500 reinforcements and returned wounded left for the “Front” this morning – wish I was with them.

General Bridges, Commander of the 1st Division A.I.F. was posthumously awarded the K.C.B. Reuters say that we avenged his death by repulsing the Turks on about the 18th. Casualties for Turkey 7,000 (2,000 of whom we killed) Ours totalled less than 500. The Turks applied for and obtained an armistice of two or three days ending the 23rd, to bury the dead – 3,000 were buried. This was only at the Australian Section, all killed between 15th and 20th. Yesterday the temperature here was at mid-day 102 degrees, and at 9pm 97 degrees. It has been very hot for several days now. The sun is like a blast furnace. The sort of weather you describe is what we used to have in Lemnos. It is hard to imagine fires. The letters I received today have all been up to the trenches, and then returned to Cairo with wounded marked on them. Guy Fisher had three returned with “killed”, and three with “wounded” on them, rather off, eh! “Six o’clock” would get scant sympathy here, it is an awfully thirsty country, here you get to know the “lime-kiln throat” with horrible frequency. All day we are just one bath of perspiration. If you lie or sit down you leave a damp mark. The last I saw of Roy Fordham was about 6 o’clock on the top of the first ridge, looking excited with a Turkish bayonet stuck in his belt, that he had taken from a dead Turk.

I have just been served with a nice drink of iced water, by a big ebony figure in a big white flowing garment and a red tarbosh on his head. We have a man in our room who saw the Bouvat sank in the Dardanelles. He is a R.M.L.I. man, and was at Antwerp, then the first landing at the Dardanelles. And now again.

A lot of things you mention haven’t turned up. The mufflers didn’t arrive, and up to date I have only had one lot of sox. I lost three good pairs in my pack. I expect DuRieu went up with the batch that went today, I wish I could have gone with him. You would write pages and pages of stuff if you only knew how much it is appreciated. That is why I often write such a lot of uninteresting drivel, thinking you will like it as much as I do – even if it is only for the sake of reading. One seems nearer to you when reading or writing. My glasses have come in very useful at times. I used them a fair amount in the firing line. I fancy it drew a lot of snipers fire on to me too – thought I was an Officer.

Mrs. Logan a British Resident here, has managed to get us a piano, also a gramaphone and about 26 records, when one isn’t going the other is. We have some fine pianists here and all day long the room is rocking with choruses, and whistling to all the latest (when we left) and popular airs, especially ragtime.


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