Rushden Man in Egypt - Private Harold Clipson
Sees Some Strange Sights - The Mingling of East and West
Ancient and Modern - Wooden Ploughs

Pte. Harold A. Clipson, Motor Transport Section, Army Service Corps, writing from Egypt to his parents, Mr. and Mrs. J. S. Clipson, of Rushden, says:

“We had a nice voyage out. I was sea sick for about 36 hours, though that did not commence till the second day out. After that we got smooth seas, and then for five days it was very nice. Being on such a big and steady boat we had at most times plenty of room to move about in. Our alarm post was on top boat deck, and after a morning up there one could have done justice to a good square meal; but going down five decks was apt to take the edge off. We had good hammocks to sleep in. Gibraltar we saw only by night.

“Arrived at Mudros (Lemnos), a lovey day was spent there in the harbour, after which we shipped to a smaller liner, and sailed to Alexandria. This was a rougher journey, and I had two days of the usual!

“It was on Sunday afternoon, Jan. 16th, when we disembarked. It was an interesting march up through the town, and would have been enjoyable but for the weight on our backs. The distance from town to camp we did by electric cars. They have fine service of these, which travel quite fast, having outside the town a special track. Our camp was quite near the sea, well supplied with water, and we had the best food there that we had tasted since leaving England.

“Monday was a rest day for us, and I washed several shirts, etc. I am getting quite an experienced washerwoman, and I think I shall start a Chinese laundry when I get out of khaki again!

“On Tuesday, Jan. 18th being now under an A.S.C. depot, we were assigned various fatigues and duties. I was pleased to get sent to a workshop in town, as it afforded an opportunity of seeing the life there. Every morning there was a joy ride on a lorry into town, and the same back in the evening. Dinner was brought to the garage, and one had half-an-hour to look about. It was so funny to see Ancient and Modern, East and West meeting. Arabs, Bedouins, Egyptians, in their original garb; the latest French styles; as well as the Greeks and Italians and other nationalities.

“One day, riding down, we saw a native funeral, the corpse on a bier, and all the women in black robes following.

“Every day we saw Moslem women with their black veils and nose pieces. The Turkish veil is much more becoming. Every day, too, one saw the family parties coming from the field on carts, mostly wives, apparently. Then there were to be seen the wooden ploughs, just as described in the Bible, also the booths made of wood trellis and boughs.

“There are several big hospitals in Alexandria. I saw the nurses being driven off to lunch, evidently of the upper classes, most of them. Alexandria is a fine city and I am sorry we didn’t stay long enough to see more of it. I had very little leisure. Indeed, I did not see most of the best parts until we rode through on trams to the railway station.

“Port Said, my present home, is much smaller, but very interesting. I might say that one appreciates the Y.M.C.A. out here much more than at home. There are several places here. During last night and this morning we had a sample of what a storm is like. It blew tremendously, and rained. I was bailing water off the floor of the car this morning. I am glad again that we are near the sea and have plenty of fresh water. The streets here in the European quarter are quite gay on fine evenings, French style of cafes, you know. All the houses have very lofty rooms, mostly about 14 feet high.

“Last Sunday afternoon I helped a Frenchman group his kiddies for a photo on the sand, and if we stay here long enough I may be able to send a photo home on which some of our crew appear. I had a cup of coffee this morning in the house where some of the kiddies live – Italian people these, so I am picking up a little of the language. It is very difficult, as none of them know six words of English. I was pleased to find out this morning that Corpl. Essam, whom we have now re-joined – he having come here with the car, and who sleeps in my ambulance – was born at Rushton, so there is another Northants man in the envoy, after all.

“I have had no home letters since leaving Avonmouth, and I am looking forward to to-day’s mail, shall be glad to see an English newspaper, too.”

Rushden Man’s Travels - Bombardier R. Frisby
“Wished the Vessel Would Go Down”
Town Destroyed by Germans - “Will Never be Rebuilt”

Bombardier Robert Frisby, No. 2 Section, 1st Division Ammunition Column, with the British Expeditionary Force, writing on February 1st to his parents, Mr. and Mrs. W. J. Frisby, of Victoria-road, Rushden, says:

“I received the “Rushden Echo” last night and thank you very much for it. I read with great interest Gunner Pettit’s interview. It is exactly what we have to go through in regard to asking for things, and also the people charging us double what they do their own people. We are still in our billets and are all right. I think it was a good photograph of Bob Scrivener in the ‘Echo’ and I should think he is getting on well, too. I suppose the people at home think it will soon be over, don’t they? Well, I am hoping so, too. Have they heard anything of Len Cox yet? I do hope they will soon hear, so let me know as soon as they hear, will you please? I have not much to say, but I thought I would just let you know that I received the ‘Echo’ and that I am all right.”

In a further letter, dated February 5th, he gives some account of his travels, as follows:-

“I left England on Nov. 21st. We were not at Southampton above an hour, and I think we had one of the roughest journeys possible; in fact, I wished the vessel would go down, as I felt so bad, and we were all alike!

“After leaving the port where we landed, we went to the base, and I was there six days. I was very pleased indeed to be moved up farther, and now I am here in the 1st D A C. I like what work I have to do very much. It is very healthy out here, if you don’t get too close to the Germans, so we have that in our favour.

“When I joined the Ammunition Column the batteries were in action. We were busy supplying ammunition and improving our camp, so, you see, we were always doing something or other.

“We are out for our rest now, so we are now much better off, but we are expecting to go into action again next week.

“During the time we were in action, I went into the trenches on one occasion, and I think the farther the person is away from them the better. I went with a party to help repairing them, and it is not a thankful office, I can tell you. We were in there from 4 o’clock to 10.30, and it is two hours’ walk to get on to the road again, so that when we got back to our camp it was about 3 o’clock, and it was raining all the time. There was not much singing on the way back, neither did I hear any in the trenches.

“I think, taking everything into consideration, things are not as black as they are painted. Of course, the Infantry are much the worse off, but they evidently stick it well, and we all admire them for their pluck and endurance, but all respect should be paid to the R.F.A. for their work, not forgetting the Ammunition Column.

“I will not attempt to say when this war will be over. It seems, to look at things that they are settling down to it, and making it a regular job, but still there will come a time some day when it will be all settled. But never out here will the remnants be destroyed, and one particular town I have seen will never be rebuilt in my time, and I am young.

“I almost forgot to tell you we had a fine time last night. We (that is, our sub-section) won the competition for the cleanest harness, and our section officer and our Major entertained us to a supper at a large hotel in this town in which we are billeted. I would love you to have seen us sitting there, all the tables set out in up-to-date style, and everything we could wish for, with a concert after it. It was first-class, and we enjoyed ourselves all right, and on active service, too!”

With The Sick and Wounded
A Rushden Soldier Writes From an Army Hospital (Passed By Censor)

Sir, -- There cannot be many parts of the theatres of war where the “Rushden Echo” does not find its way more or less regularly, and it may interest your readers to know a little of what life is like in one of the many hospitals where a soldier is fortunately, or unfortunately (according to how he regards it), sent, from the din and roar of battle. Soldiers often speak – wisely or unwisely - of their experiences while actually fighting, and I could give an account of recent actions that would prove a veritable nightmare even to the most stolid, but naturally the Censor would not pass this for publication. For that reason, I confine myself to an account of that temporary haven of rest – the military hospital. There is a mixture of all sorts and classes here, with the Royal Engineers in the majority – why that is so I cannot say, but it seems to be the case that R.E.’s are represented in hospitals by larger numbers than the other corps or regiments.

One remarkable feature is the mutual avoidance of conversations or personal experiences of the war. Men who have experienced things fit to make one’s hair stand on end, will discuss anything rather than harass themselves, while incidentally interesting others, by relating stories that language fails to do justice to. There are certain things known to us, for instance, about the great Loos battle, which will not become public property for some time. There are facts which cannot, under the existing regime, be made known to the ordinary newspaper reader. But this is merely digression. To get back to my subject; life in an Army hospital tends to become somewhat monotonous unless the hospital is one within easy reach of concert or operatic parties, who frequently visit such places as these.

To begin with, in the early hours of the morning one wakes up to find the two long rows of white beds occupied by slumberers, some of whom are calmly enjoying well-deserved sleep, while others are snoring a mild pandemonium – each apparently trying to out-do the other by making the most ungodly noises and generally raising the devil! Bash!! – a pillow lands right on the face of one of these “musical” members of the community! Oh! The language that follows! For a time horrible murder is imminent until offender and offended are persuaded to strafe no more. By this time the whole of the ward is aroused, and the day begins – the ward fires are lighted and the breakfast comes along. Then the convalescents amuse themselves by prosecuting certain domestic duties in a manner that gives promise of future married bliss!

Gathering round the fires, all and sundry discuss the morning’s war news when, almost without warning, in walks the medical officer with his understudy “Shun! Stand by your cots!” is the order. Strictly obedient under all circumstances, we leap, hop, skip, tumble, or wobble into our places and “Shun” the best we can. The medical officer goes the round of seeing the hale, the lame and the sick in short time. Only slight interest is aroused by this visit – such as the men going home on sick leave or being discharged from the Army. The remainder of the day is spent in eating, sleeping, singing, reading and other innocent pastimes. Altogether it is an experience that one might miss to one’s disadvantage, but, on the other hand, the most casual observer can see and feel there is a constant undercurrent of anxiety and impatience for the whole business to come to an end.

While it would be incorrect to think that such men as these would be in favour of giving up the struggle before “Prussian militarism is wholly and finally destroyed,” yet we all long for the dawn of the day when peace will be proclaimed and myriads of warriors will become peaceful industrious citizens, pursuing the even tenure of their happy existence in productive occupations that will re-weld the British Empire more strongly than ever before. – I remain. Sir,

Rushden Man’s Donkey Ride - Amusing Experience in Egypt
A Postcard from Rushden Has a Four Months’ Journey
Hot During the Day and Freezing at Night

Pte Rennie Crick, of the Royal Army Medical Corps (son of Mr. C. G. Crick, of Cranleigh, Surry, formerly of Rushden), is serving in the 34th Field Ambulance, with the British Mediterranean Expeditionary Force. Writes to his parents in letter dated Feb. 11th:-

“At last I have arrived at a place where I can send you a line to relieve your anxiety, for it has been nearly three weeks since I wrote to you last, and this is the first opportunity I have had since then, and I expect you will be a bit anxious.

“Well we have left Imbros Island, and at the present time we are in a much warmer climate, and I have no doubt you will guess the place is Egypt, where I said I thought we should go. We came on a big transport, the ________, and arrived last Monday, after a fairly smooth sail, at Alexandria. After we landed we marched through the town about two miles, then had a long ride on an electric tram, then another march of about two miles across the desert, and by the time we reached our camping ground at 9 p.m. we were all quite ready to drop. But fortunately our advance party had got there before, and we were able to go straight into tents, and not have the trouble of putting them up.

“When we got up on Tuesday morning, I was able to see what sort of a place we were in, and I must say it looks very nice. We are about five miles outside Alexandria, and within two miles of the sea. Of course, we are camped on the sandy desert, but it is not absolutely bare desert, for the Egyptian State Railway runs past our camp, about ten yards from our tents, and there are houses and electric trams within a mile. On every side we can see palm trees and plantations, and altogether I think this is a lovely spot for a camp.

“The native Egyptians are all over the place, and every morning they are all round the camps, selling tomatoes, ready boiled eggs, and cakes of all kinds. Many of the fellows buy them for breakfast, but unfortunately I have no money at present, but expect we shall be paid in a day or two. I hear we shall get Egyptian money, and I expect it will be hard to understand at first, but I know that a piaster is 2½d, and 50 piasters are 10s in our money. The coins are difficult to understand, but I doubt we shall soon know what they value.

“We see plenty of camels, and donkeys being used by the natives, and the camels look very lazy as they jog awkwardly along. I saw a great sight last night, and that was a camel trotting. You may guess that it is very hot during the day, but when we get up at 6 a.m. to 7 we have physical drill to warm us up. Then we have breakfast at 7.30 (tea and fried bacon), Commanding Officer’s inspection at 9, and then an hour’s drill (squad or stretcher drill), dinner at one (tea and porridge or cheese), bathing parade at two, and tea at five (stew). The dinner and tea are reversed on account of the heat, as meat is too ‘hearty’ in the middle of the day.

“We had a big mail (about 40 bags) last Wednesday and I received four parcels, six letters, and four scouts from you, two parcels and three letters from Bert, and four other letters and a postcard. I had to get another fellow to help me carry them to the tent, and I hardly knew what to do at the moment.

“I knew that there were some Rushden lads out here at the Dardanelles, in the 1/4th Northants Regt., but they were at Cape Helles, a long way from us at Suvla, so I could not see them. I might tell you that I have just received a postcard from the Rushden Independent Wesleyan Sunday School, which was sent with the parcel to Aldershot on my birthday. It has only taken four months to come! I hope the parcel will not take quite so long. You say in your letter of Jan. 12th that you have just sent off your 7th parcel. Well, I have received six already, so I hope you will continue to send them, as you see they all arrive safely. Well, I don’t know how long we are staying here, but I think it will be for a good time, as we expect to be given sun helmets and khaki drill uniforms (very thin cotton) for the warm weather. This looks as if we are staying here for a time, and I shall be satisfied.”

In another letter, dated Feb. 22nd, Pte. Crick says:-

“Just a few more lines to let you know that I am keeping well, and having a good time here at Alexandria. All the men in the ambulance were medically examined yesterday, and I was found fit and well, so there is no need for you to worry about my health. There is nothing to tell you this time, except a little incident that occurred a few days ago.

“I had a ride on a donkey the other night, and I was surprised when I tried to ride one. When I got on I nearly fell off the other side, but when I had got on right I could manage him. Then, when I tried to get off I couldn’t stop the brute, and so I attempted to get off as he was going. The result was I rolled off, and rolled right down the railway embankment. So I think it was a case of two donkeys together, don’t you. No more donkey rides for me!”

Hun Kultur - And it’s Methods - Rushden Soldier’s Confidence

Gunner A. Downing (Rushden), 110579, 46th Battery, R.F.A. writes:-

“March 5th – I have just received the “Rushden Echo”, dated Feb. 28th, and thank you very much for the same. It is the best local paper I have sent me out here. We are not allowed to write of what is going on out here, but I can tell you we are trying our best, and giving the Huns a taste, and with interest, too, of the Kultur they introduced into France and Belgium at the beginning of the war. There are three villages close by here, that before the war were very peaceful and flourishing, but now they show only the method of Hun Kultur. They are three heaps of ruins now. Tell the people of Rushden that their boys are cheerful and confident that the war will be brought to a successful end for the Allies. Wishing you and your paper every success in the future.”

Rushden Man Far North
Forty Degrees of Frost - Among The Laplanders
Reindeer Flesh and Black Bread - Frozen Sausages and How they are Thawed
Exciting Experiences in Northern Waters - The Pluck of the Ship’s Captain
Stirring Message from Commander Locker-Lampson

Petty Officer W. E. Lockie, of the Armoured Car Section of the Royal Naval Service, son of Mr. and Mrs. W. Lockie, of 8 Ebenezer-terrace, Rushden, has been home on eight days’ leave after having seen service in France, Belgium, and latterly in the Far North.

Interviewed by a representative of the “Rushden Echo” he said:

“The experience I have had latterly has been rather exciting. We left Liverpool on Dec. 3rd and when three days out ran into a most terrible storm, which resulted in our losing a couple of lifeboats, in addition to having several temporary buildings on the well decks smashed to splinters by the tremendous seas that broke over us.

“On Sunday evening the situation became absolutely critical, although it was not known amongst the majority of the men at the time, as over 500, including experienced sailors, were as sick as horses. The captain never left the bridge for over 24 hours, and at one time the ship listed to port so far that it was feared she would capsize. To add to our discomfort, with so many men aboard the sanitary conditions were bad, and the water froze, the ship also being covered with snow and ice.

“After three days the fierceness of the storm abated, although the sea was still rough, but we were all thankful to know that we had won through. The men’s sleeping accommodation consisted of hammocks slung on the deck head down the holds fore and aft, and we were not allowed any heat at all, nor were we allowed to smoke on account of the ammunition stored beneath us. The only place we could smoke was on the quarter deck. As we got farther north and were rounding North Cape, which is the most northerly point in Europe, we experienced severe cold, 40 degrees of frost, and we touched the Arctic Circle. Also we had only about 1½ hours of semi-daylight at midday. We did not see the sun at all.

“We arrived in Ukansky Bay in Lapland about ten days after we sailed, and we were kept there ten days, during which time a Russian patrol boat came up and supplied us with water and instructions as to our route. Whilst we lay in the bay we were surrounded by ice. As a matter of fact, it was so thick that we could not break it by dropping a bucket overboard. Here, for the first time in my life, I saw a seal in its natural element on the ice. I suppose the Russians informed our captain that we could not procede through the White Sea to Archangel, so we set off again and arrived at Alexandrovsk on Christmas Day.

“The Christmas delicacies were very welcome, as during the voyage out the food was very rough. For instance, one morning when in the Arctic regions and the pumps had frozen, we had tinned sausages as hard as iron and bottles of pop for breakfast. The only way to thaw the sausages was to get them inside you. On several occasions we saw the magnificent spectacle of the Aurora Borealis, or Northern Lights.

“It was at Alexandrovsk that we started to land men. They were put into houses and schoolrooms amongst the Laplanders. Although everywhere is covered with ice and snow and all stores have to be carried on sleighs pulled by fatigue parties, the houses are very warm built, with double wood walls, with grass packed between. Water is obtained from the lakes by boring a hole in the ice, and the water also is carried by sleigh.

“As we had been so long on the journey, rations ran rather short, and the meat we were expected to eat was reindeer flesh and black bread. I didn’t appreciate either, as the meat is bitter and the bread unpalatable. When I left there the men were getting white bread three days per week. There is a beautiful church there, although small. The religion is the Greek orthodox, and the Laplanders are very devout. In the post office there are about 18 telegraphists, some of whom speak English and French. These are the more educated Russian officials. The impression I got whilst there is that the Laplanders themselves are hardly aware that a war is taking place.

“Whilst on the voyage out many of the cars we were carrying were damaged by the rolling of the ship, and also many of the men became medically unfit, so it was decided to bring back the repair staff and such of our men as were unfit for service, together with other men who were also physically unfit on British ships in the harbour there. Among these were the three survivors out of 27 of the “Sapho” which, as had been reported, was frozen up in the White Sea. One of these men had three fingers of each hand amputated and half of his foot, the operation being performed by our own doctors in the hospital that we had established ashore in one of the houses in Lapland.

“My work during the voyage out and back lay with the sick berth staff, and coming home they could not spare any man from the hospital, so we had a busy time. On the voyage home we called at Lerwick in the Shetland Islands and discharged a patient there. We arrived at Newport on Feb. 26th, and after a week discharging cargo and the remainder of the patients to various hospitals I was given leave.

Mr. Lockie brought home with him copies of “The Archangel Herald,” a small newspaper printed on board and described as “the official organ of the R.N.A.S., Russian Squadron,” “ printed and published twice weekly (weather permitting).” The newspaper is headed: “Our motto: ‘Fear God and fear nought.’” The contents are most interesting. The first article is a message from King George to the squadrons: - “I know they will uphold that high reputation which they have already earned in the western theatre of war.” The reply sent to his Majesty expressed “feelings of encouragement and gratitude.”

Another paragraph reads: “Last Sunday morning the Armoured Car Squadrons established a record by singing ‘God save the King’ farther north than any British Field Force on active service had ever done before. The scene was most impressive. There in the half-light, gazing straight before us over the lonely waters to the dim-lit eastern sky, where the sun seemed to be struggling to rise, although he never does so at this time of the year, we sang lustily in melodious tones, with all our hearts behind the words we uttered.”

Commander O. Locker-Lampson contributes a fine message “To the officers and men of the Armoured Car Squadrons,” in the course of which he says:

“Our task is no light one. Upon our lonely shoulders falls the duty of maintaining the prestige of British arms and traditions. And I would ask if there is any effort we would not make to preserve and improve this? Assuredly not, in matters of money, therefore, in our dealings with men and women, in the daily economy of life, let us see we exercise honour and discretion, courtesy and self-restraint. Even in our conduct towards the enemy we can reveal our origin and prove ourselves sons of an idea as ennobling as any that ever put arms into English hands.

“For this war was not of our seeking. As a nation we entered it in no spirit of aggrandisement or conquest. It would, therefore, ill-behove even our small unit to treat it as some personal difference between Britons and Germans. It is something far finer than that. It is a duel between rival religions; it is once again a battle of beliefs; it is the age-old contest between the Dominion of Darkness and the Kingdom of Christ. We fought that liberty may live, that love may never perish from the earth. And inasmuch as the strength of the fighter is the strength of his faith, our cause must in the end prevail.”

The little newspaper contains some most cheery tit-bits, of which the following is a sample:

“Never mind if our lights go out, we still have our Lampson.”

Rushden Airman at Work
Hunting For Zepps - A Trip in a Damaged Seaplane
Three Unexploded Bombs Found
Lieut. Bone’s Fine Feat - A Startling Experience
Forced Landing in a Tree

Chief Petty Officer Horace Twelvetree, of the Royal Naval Air Service, son of Mr. and Mrs. James Twelvetree, of Newton-road, Rushden, has just had a few days’ special leave to see his mother, who, we regret to say, has been ill for the past two or three weeks. Interviewed by a representative of the “Rushden Echo” he said:-

“I am now at headquarters at Yarmouth and have experienced Zeppelin scares and raids innumerable in various parts of the coast, but I have only been fortunate enough to see one Zeppelin, and that was when I was in London last October.

“I was in the train on my way home from Hendon and the train was stopped near Ilford, and we had to get out and walk. It was then I saw the machine, which appeared to be coming up the river from the direction of Woolwich. Our searchlights had found it, and our anti-aircraft guns were in action, but I am sorry to say could not get the range. The Zeppelin appeared to me to be about 7,000 feet up, and the shells seemed to be bursting anywhere except where they ought. I watched the Zeppelin until she was out of sight.

“In the raids on Yarmouth and other parts of the coast I have been kept busy, but only once – at Dover – have I seen any kind of German aircraft. There were two machines over us on that occasion, but they were at such an altitude that we could not definitely distinguish the type of machine, although we surmised that they were Fokker and a Taube. They dropped several bombs, but the damage was very slight in comparison to the number of bombs they dropped, and they didn’t stay long, as we were soon busy and succeeded in driving them off.

“I was at Yarmouth when the first Zeppelin raid took place, and afterwards I was one of a party that was strolling round to look at the damage, and in one part of the town we found three unexploded bombs embedded in the pavement. We secured then and handed them over to the authorities. The weight of the bombs varies from 60lbs to 100lbs.

“Your readers will, of course, have read about Lieut. Bone bringing down the German aeroplane at Dover on Sunday. He was formerly attached to the Yarmouth squadron to which I belong, and I have spoken to him about a month ago, when he was on sick leave.

“I have not been fortunate enough to participate in any fights between British and enemy aircraft, as when raids have taken place I have either been away from the base, or the night has been so black that we couldn’t see anything.

“During one raid I was up with an officer for two-and-a-quarter hours, circling round and round the harbour mouth, and the Zeppelin was above us, but we couldn’t see anything. Subsequently we made a forced landing in a tree. The machine was smashed up, and I landed in the lower branches of the tree, with my officer somewhere above me. I found myself sitting in a fork of the tree quite unconcerned and practically unhurt. I shouted to my officer and was relieved to hear him say he was all right. We were both uninjured, except for a few scratches. I had a cut under the jaw, into which four stitches were put.

“My officer told me afterwards that he was not thrown out of the machine as he was strapped to the seat, and we are all used to shakings, which covered the extent of his injuries. It is very dangerous flying at night, and it is largely a matter of luck if you get down safely.

“The worst trip I ever had, however, was in a seaplane which was partly smashed on the sands on the way out. There was a raid on, however, and we were obliged to go up. For quite two hours we were flying with several wires broken. There were only a few holding the machine together. We went about 50 miles east and south and returned along the coast, and the whole of the time we were up we didn’t know how badly the machine was damaged, as it was so dark. Of course, when rising we knew we had struck something, but as the engine was going all right we kept on. When we landed, we and everybody else were surprised how the machine had held together at all, and it was only a miracle that we got back. If we had been compelled to land at sea our number would have been up, as the chances of being picked up at night are about one in a hundred.

“During my four years in the air service I have been in several smashes, but have only suffered minor injuries, the worst I have received being a sprained neck. This was soon after I joined, and I had my neck in plaster of Paris for six weeks. I went through for my pilot’s certificate over three years ago, but as I have since been attached to the experimental staff I have done little flying since, except as observer.”

Rushden Man with the R.A.M.C.
Boxing Contest and Concert

Pte. H. W. Perkins (Rushden), who is serving with the R.A.M.C. “somewhere in France,” and who was formerly traveller for Messrs. Seddon and Arlidge, sends a very interesting letter to his father, Mr. G. Perkins, of Rushden, in the course of which he says:

“We had a great boxing competition (I am enclosing the programme for it). ‘Young Blott’ comes from Kettering, and, of course, all the Northants chaps were in favour of him. The Recreation Room was packed with patients and Ambulance men. There were two five-round exhibitions first, and then the great fight. It was a general set-to, ‘Scotty’ with his straight punching, and Blott with his science. The Colonel was referee, and four of the officers were judges. After the ten rounds were run, they gave the verdict to ‘Scotty.’ The Northants boys were rather sore, but I think it is arranged for them to meet again.

“On Friday we had a grand concert, arranged by the 34th Divisional Ammunition Column. There were some very clever artistes including ‘Kearsley,’ a splendid whistler. I rather fancy he has been to the Royal Theatre, Rushden.”

The following is the programme referred to:

Rushden Man’s Escape - “Narrow Squeak” For Pte. Len Smith
Shells Bursting All Around - The Sky At Night-Time Aglow With Star Shells

Pte. H. W. Perkins (Rushden), 103rd Field Ambulance, R.A.M.C., with the B.E.F. in France, writes: To the Editor of the “Rushden Echo.”

Just a short note to let you know we are still alive and well. There are quite a lot of Northamptonshire lads in this Ambulance, and we decided to have our photograph taken and forwarded to the local paper. The enclosed is the result. It is a great pity we could not have all the boys on, but 8 or 9 were on special duties so that they could not be present. We have done a considerable amount of marching since we arrived in France, but I fancy we are settled down now at this hospital for a month or two. I have been up here five weeks now, a week longer than any of the others. The extra week I was here for instruction, in the Receiving Room. What with entering all particulars of patients coming in and bed tickets, beside patients for casualty clearing station, discharges, etc., there is a considerable amount of clerical work.

When I came up here first, the 2nd Northants were in this district, and I had many a chat with them, but only on one occasion did I see one from Rushden that was Charlie Tew. He was in with a sprained ankle. This Division has moved now, and our own is in this area.

One of our boys – Len Smith, Of Rushden – had a narrow squeak this morning; he was on police duty outside the hospital when the anti-aircraft guns commenced firing, and a portion of shell about 6 inches long fell about a yard from him, and rebounded over a high wall, where it finished its course against the guard door.

The German airmen seem to have a great liking for this district. They are over here every day. It is very interesting watching the shells bursting all-round the machines. I have not had the pleasure of seeing one brought down yet, but there have been several lately in the district.

One of our sections is away for a week’s instruction at another hospital and I suppose an advance dressing station, which is about half-a-mile from the trenches. We are about five miles away, but can hear the guns very distinctly, and at night the sky is all aglow with star shells.

I remain, yours truly,
H. W. PERKINS.