Letters From the Front

Dated:

Private Wm. E. Elder, who now lies wounded in the Ramsgate Hospital, England writes to his mother as follows:

Well Mother, when I last wrote you I was as I said, just over my operation. Although I was feeling pretty well then I am even better now, for my temperature has become normal. The wound is not the least serious, but it is, since the operation, a rather large opening. I suppose that this only means that it will take only that much longer to heal and that doesn't matter so much for neither of my wounds give much pain. This is really a fine place, everything is so nice, bright and cheerful.

I suppose you would like to hear some of my impressions of the big Vimy scrap. Of course I saw only what happened on our brigade frontage. Beyond that one could not see, because of the contour of the land. The main thing, and practically the whole thing, was the barrage. A few minutes before the affair was to open three of us were sent to our outpost line to observe and report by telephone everything that was happening. In the first dawn of the morning the big guns opened fire on the enemy outpost line and front line. Standing near, I could feel every part of my body tingling. The air seemed just charged with electricity. The snapping and cracking of the higher explosives added to the din of the crashing reports of the heavy shells. It was beautiful and magnificent, and yet how dreadful. A few seconds after it opened I turned to say something to one of the boys, when I was surprised to see 3 Huns, very nervous but otherwise all right. They had not waited for our charge, but preferred coming over and giving themselves up at once. While this barrage was on his front line, our men were preparing to advance. The barrage finally lifted to the enemy's second line, when our men calmly walked over, fixing bayonets as they went. The whole affair was a repetition of this, at each trench, for we had the same experience as at the front line. No wonder they say it was a wonderful thing. The barrage gave one the feeling of confidence, and our only danger was our getting too close to it. In going over the ground, I was struck with the terrible havoc that our fire had caused. It was impossible to pick out the trenches, save for a few bits that remained. The whole ground was a series of shell holes linked to each other. It seems to me our success was largely due to preparation for the advance.