LADYSMITH, March 4th, 1900.
[DEAR, DEAR MOTHER:]
Today I got the first letter I have had from you since we
left home. It was such happiness to see your
dear sweet handwriting again. It was just like seeing you for
a glimpse, or hearing you speak. I am so hungry for news of
Nora and Chas and you all. I know you've written, but the
letters have missed somehow. I sent yours right back to Cecil
who is very lonely at present. Somerset has gone to the front
and Jim — home — Blessed word! A little middy rode up to me
today and began by saying "I'm going home. I'm
ordered
there. Home — To England!" He seemed to think I would not
understand. He prattled on like a child saying what luck he
had had, that he had been besieged in Ladysmith and seen lots
of fighting and would get a medal and all the while he was
"just a middy." "But isn't it awful to think of our chaps
that were left on the ship" he said quite miserably. It is a
beastly dull war. The whole thing is so "class" and full of
"form" and tradition and worrying over "putties" and etiquette
and rank. It is the most wonderful organization I ever
imagined but it is like a beautiful locomotive without an
engineer.
The Boers outplay them in intelligence every day. The
whole army is officered by one class and that the dull one.
It is like the House of Peers. You would not believe the
mistakes they make, the awful way in which they sacrifice the
lives of officers and men. And they let the Boers escape. I
watched the Boers for four hours the other day escaping after
the battle of Pieters and I asked, not because I wanted them
captured but just as a military proposition "Why don't you
send out your cavalry and light artillery and take those
wagons?" The staff officer giggled and said "They might kill
us." I don't know what he meant; neither did he. However,
I'm sick of it but there's nothing else to talk of. I hate
all the people
about me and this dirty town and I wish I was back. And I'm
going too. I'll have started by the time you get this.
I mean to cut out of this soon but don't imagine I'm in
any danger. I'm taking d — -d good care to keep out of danger.
No one is more determined on that than I am. Dear Mother,
this is such a dull letter but you must forgive me. I was
never so homesick and bored in my life. It will be better
when I go out tomorrow in my green tent and leave this beastly
hole. I like the tent life, and the horses and being clean.
I've really starved here for four days and haven't had a clean
thing on me. God bless you all and dear Nora God bless her
and Chas and the Lone Fisherman.
DICK.
