Virtual
War Memorial
Australia

Mr. Julian A. Watson (Cooper's Plains) has received the following letter from his nephew, Corporal H. R. Watson, late of the Machine Gun Section of the 26th Battalion, and now with the Machine Gun Corps attached to one of the Australian Brigades:- "I am writing this seated in a barn behind the firing line, 'somewhere in France.' I have been writing for the last hour, and have made up my mind to get this finished, although my fingers are that frozen I can hardly hold the pencil. It took us six days to reach France from Egypt. Although we were alongside the docks early in the morning we did not disembark until night time, and left by train at midnight for our new 'hame.' We had a long journey, and it would have been a very tiresome one only for the interesting country through which we were passing. It was exactly two and a half days from the time we left until we were billeted in this village in Flanders. Our billet is not very comfortable; it's a big draughty barn, and the couple of feet of straw which is laid on the ground is not very clean and dry. Still 'soldiers can't be choosers,' and I'm sure there are chaps putting up with worse things than we are. We are a good distance behind the firing line, but can hear the big guns quite distinctly; judging by the noise things seem to be a lot livelier here than in 'old Galipp.' I don't know how long it will be before we move into it once more, but I'm sure we won't be kept idle here very long. The people here are A1. I don't know whether it's owing to being amongst 'Gyppos' for so long, but they seem to me one of the nicest, and most generous lot I've been amongst. All through our journey they treated the boys well, and whenever the train stopped at a fairly large town we did not go short of fruit, cakes, etc. There are some stunning girls knocking around the country, too. I won't say they are prettier than others I've seen, but there are more of them than any other place I've been to. The French soldiers' red and blue uniforms are too conspicuous for my liking. The men are a solid lot, and are quite as big as the 'Tommies.' I always thought they were small men. We had a day and a night in the train while a snowstorm was raging. Unluckily it was still going strong when we reached our destination; we had to walk a couple of miles right in the face of it. We had our first experience of Flanders mud at the same time, and none of us had any praise for it. The poor beggars who were in the trenches during the winter must have endured a lot. Down in the south of France everything looked perfect. All the trees had just been clothed in a fine new outfit for the spring. The grass looked greener than any I've seen before. The whole countryside looked just like a garden, and the pretty red and white farmhouses dotted here and there did not seem a bit out of place. There are no unsightly fences dividing the farms here; when the fields are divided a hedge generally does the work. They look good enough to keep any animal in bounds. I wouldn't mind living in the south of France for the rest of my life. Things got a bit different as we came further north; winter still had the country in its grip, and it was pretty cold and cheerless. But in a couple of months I suppose this place will be as nice as the south. The village we are in at present did not fall into German hands at the beginning of the war, so nothing is knocked about. We have yet to see what the work was like amongst other villages. I don't know when we are going to move into the trenches; I suppose when the weather gets warmer. There ought to be something doing this spring at the Front. I feel confident that the Germans will be 'stoushed' horribly this year. All the 'Tommies" I've seen think the same thing."