Complete works of wilfre.., p.40
Complete Works of Wilfred Owen, page 40
Another injection in ten days.
Yours ever W.E.O.
To Susan Owen
Tuesday (Postmark 27 October 1915) — (Tavistock Square)
I fear I should have written my last card sooner than I did: but you can’t expect to hear every day! I did a full day’s parade today, the arm being only ticklish now. The drill is a curious compound of monotony and qui vive. Fortunately our Sergeant is a gentleman, and, what is more, considers us as such. As a Sergeant I admire & respect him devotedly.
Harold Monro himself read at the P. Bookshop this evening, and I had a talk with him afterwards. Dorothy was impressed by his Poems which I left at Alpenrose. Please send me Tailhade: Poèmes Aristophanesques, which is on the top shelf of the Book Case. Don’t send the Pyjamas till I — say if we are given any. It was so nice of Colin & Mary to give such cheery letters. The enlisting was a plunge, and it has put my wits a little out of breath.
Your own W.E.O.
To Susan Owen
Friday Night (30 October 1913) — Tavistock Sq.
Dearest Mother,
I am dog-tired: N.B. I don’t say exhausted — but stupidly, muscularly tired. I got my outfit some days ago. I have not the patience to give you a list of the contents of my Kit, but it contains numbers of footling things — tooth-brush & razor-brush for example, whereas I had to buy a belt (3/6) and shall have to buy a swagger-cane. These are regulations special to our regiment, because the discipline is frightfully minute. I spent all last evening polishing my buttons. We are cautioned against appearing in the street with a single over-coat button undone: belt must be worn over the overcoat, collar never turned up (except in very inclement weather when permission is granted to do so) etc. etc. etc. There is no doubt we are as smart as anything except the Guards, whom we ape. Yesterday morning we went a Route March through Kentish Town to Highgate. I had just got my Brogues repaired in time, but those wretches who wore new service boots had to go home by tram!
This morning we had ‘Physical Drill’ under a special Gymnastic Instructor and it is that which had so bewearied my bones. We do all this in shirt sleeves in Cartwright Gardens, a ‘crescent-garden’ bounded by the usual boarding houses. I have scarcely seen an officer. All our instruction is done by sergeants, who are as chummy between times as they are smart on parade. Impossible to get them out of temper. One is a rare wag, and gives plenty of exercise to the Risible Muscles. I never felt devotion, and not much respect, for any authority or individual in this world since I left the 3rd form of the Institute; but I am beginning again under these fellows. Astonishing what a changed meaning has a Captain or a Colonel for me. If a Major-General approached me I think I should fall down dead. We had to practise Salutes (on Trees) this very morning. You would be surprised how long it takes to do the thing properly.
This aft. was pay-day. Now we waited drawn up in ranks from 3 this evening, till just on 6!! And those at the rear, as I was, never got it after all. Then was the moment when you had best wad up the ears if swearing upsets them.
I spent the heavy time pleasantly enough in conversation with one who I believe will be one of my best friends. Everyone is willing to make friends, and everyone is eligible; so there is really no guide as to which one shall go for beyond the expression of his phiz. There are now five on special terms with me, one very young, another quite forty, but none artists in any sense, no enthusiasts in my line. So I am still on the lookout. I believe Sat. morning. Here I was suddenly cut short by my bath being ready, and the arrival of a large packet of literatures from Leslie.
Today is our Second Inoculation. I must run!
Yours with dearest love, Wilfred
To Susan Owen
Sunday (2 November 1915) — Tavistock Square
Dearest Mother,
I have no post-cards, hence another letter, simply to say that the Second Inoculation has taken mildly enough. It was done at midday yesterday: there was enough pain to justify a morning in bed! This time one of my ‘friends’ did a faint. It must be pure nerves: the ‘poison’ can’t invade the system in half-a-minute. I stayed in by the fire in the afternoon, enduring a Singing Lesson which our Proprietor gives to a Marseillais youth betimes. It seems mine host is an ancient public singer. There is generally music of a sort in the evenings which drives me up to my room. I spend a good part of my leisure polishing my buttons and badges. It is a frightful bore. Can this explain the military oath— ‘Dash my buttons!’? This morning I have massaged my new boots with Castor Oil. We were told to pour it inside the boot! The stench resulting is perhaps the very first inconvenience I have yet endured. I have bought my swagger cane, and now feel perfectly normal in Khaki.
Apart from the treasonable unlawfulness of appearing in mufti, I should feel positively ill at ease in it. No collar & tie means an economy of dressing-time; but it is paid for by the puttees, which, not being Foxes’, are difficult to arrange neatly. I wear the trousers bagged below the knee; but such as care to buy breeches may dress in cavalry style. In the Inns of Court no one wears the khaki provided but buys officer’s stuffs, (without stripes of course.) There is a pretty general feeling of contempt for the Inns of Court among our men, that may be founded on envy. We are forbidden to wear waterproofs or Burberrys or mufflers or brown boots — by a special Battalion Order! So far, then, our chiefest cares have been frivolous details of this sort, but there is a stern time coming — in Camp. There is a story that three men deserted from Camp.
They were not shot at dawn, but simply excluded from Commissions.
I got my Pay by going early on Sat. morning. Did I ever acknowledge the £1 you sent? It does annoy me to have to take it. Now that the Inoculations are over I am looking for a Room. If only this Life went on indefinitely I should be well pleased. It is really no great strain to strut round the gardens of a West-end square for six or seven hours a day.
Walking abroad, one is the admiration of all little boys, and meets an approving glance from every eye of eld. I sometimes amuse myself by sternly contemplating the civilian dress of apparent Slackers. They return a shifty enough expression. When I clamp-clump-clamp-clumped into the Poetry Bookshop on Thursday, the poetic ladies were not a little surprised. The Readings were from Rabindranath Tagore, read by a Lady without much insight into the Hindu spirit. I could not speak to Monro, but he smiled sadly at my khaki. He has a poem in his last book, which goes
Happy boy, happy boy,
David the immortal-willed,
Youth, a thousand thousand times
Slain, but not once killed,
Swaggering again today
In the old contemptuous way;
Leaning backward from your thigh
Up against the tinselled bar —
Dust and ashes! is it you?
Laughing, boasting, there you are!
First we hardly recognised you
In your modern avatar.
Greybeards plotted. They were sad.
Death was in their wrinkled eyes.
At their tables, with their maps,
Plans and calculations wise
They all seemed; for well they knew
How ungrudgingly Youth dies. etc.
Leslie talks of coming up at the end of the week. Did I tell you I got in half-price at ‘the Strand’ to see the Scarlet Pimpernel? Fred Terry was indisposed, but I could hardly imagine a better impersonation than was done by the Understudy. I have just read El Dorado, the last tale of the S. Pimpernel — not very readable. Thank Father so much for a special letter for me: It gave me good reassurance, which you must all try and do. What breed is the Dog? Ah! if Colin could share my bedroom (double bedded) for a few days one week-end! I am free from Sat. 1 o’clock to Monday mng. Just enough time to meet you at Alpenrose, one day next month, eh?
Monday. The Parcel came this morning. The handkerchiefs were just in time, and the chocs I seized with schoolboyish relish! Our drill consisted of standing-at-ease and standing-easy alternately in the Drill Hall, because it has rained all day! ‘Our’ Sergeant has not appeared for some time. Sgt. Knight has charge of us now — the county cricketer: do Father or Colin know of his renown? There is a legend that our Doctor attended the King. Certainly he belongs to a noble Order, K.C.B. or something. There seem no Artists whatever among us!! This morning I was talking to a recruit of a Henry-Irving countenance, who per-sists in wearing long strands of hair visible in front of the Cap. He has been ‘ticked-off’ four or five times for it; but is not yet shot at dawn.
I am fairly close cropped.
From an Adv. in ‘The Y.M.’ I found a room at 5/6 per week, right opposite the Poetry Bookshop!!
A plain enough affair — candlelight — no bath — and so on; but there is a coffee-shop underneath; so I have theoretically decided to go there, and shall move as soon as practicable. Indeed I gave notice this evening at this Boarding House.
There is no symptom of patri-avuncularism from Meols!
I think, if it be possible, I must beg,£c2 for the next remittance, on account of the Advance Payments I may have to make. This should be quite the last Allowance. If anything should turn up from Meols later be reimbursed therewith, of course. I used to think Uncle Ted’s readings of Scrooge funny. I don’t now. I shall move from here as soon as I have paid up.
Rumour has it that we shall be billeted for the Winter!!
Fare thee well, thou dear, dear Mother, prayeth — her Wilfred
To Susan Owen
Postcard Monday (Postmark 8 November 1913) a Post Office (Postmark London)
Am rejoiced to know that Father’s operation is well over. Surprised not to have news of him this mng. but perhaps you are saying as much of me.
All my time is being given to an Author — Prof. of Lit. at Brussels, who, after 22 yrs of research has found the true Shakspere. Not Bacon but the Earl of Rutland. His proofs are overwhelming. There is going to be a sensation. When I am convinced, I may start the propaganda in the papers. I had the registered letter. Great thanks! But I am not out of Tavistock Sq. 54, for reasons which I will explain later. I quite hope to be able to get to Alp. on Sat. What a delight!
Your W.E.O.
To Susan Owen
‘ — Postcard Friday Aft. (Postmark 19 November 1913)
Y.M.C.A. (Postmark Watford)
Had your letter & the socks at mid-day. We have had a rough time today — up at 6 again. 3 men out of the 700 took cold Shower baths. I was one of the 3. But holding rifles frozen over with snow all day was ghastly. Sorry not to have had even the bad prints of my photos. We have an extra blanket now i e. 1 blanket & 3 rugs. Food has been so-so today.
Love to all W.E.O.
To Susan Owen
Postcard
Friday Aft. (Postmark 19 November 1915)
Railway Train (Postmark Watford)
20 men were suddenly called up to do some cleaning up at High Beech.
Of these am I and my two best friends. We just had time to snatch a lunch, & I managed to rip open the Parcel, & get out the socks. We may stay till Monday, but write to Gidea Park. We are carrying a sack of meat and a sack of bread. This is ‘Fatigue Duty’ but I am glad of the Change.
Many thanks for sending so promptly the pyjamas etc. Don’t know how we shall sleep tonight. Am quite well. — Your W E O
To Susan Owen
Postcard (Postmark 21 November 1915) — Y.M.C.A. (Postmark Romford)
Just returned (by train) from High Beech. Worked like slaves at Transport Waggon Loading from 7.30 to 2. Thoroughly enjoyed the change, & benefited by the exercise.
Your W.E.O.
To Susan Owen
Thursday (23 December 1915) — T.M.C.A. (Romford)
Dearest of Mothers,
I have had no letters today. I believe there is a muddle in the P.O. this year, but I hope you will get this by Christmas Day. The certainty is absolute: I shall be here over the 25, with the majority of my Hut, and, indeed, of my Company. The latest rumour is that we shall not be allowed to get out of Camp till we have fairly eaten our Christmas Dinner under its auspices. Anyhow we shall feast rarely. Donaldson is giving us two birds, (geese or turkeys) and there will be any number of plum-puddings. We are allowed 1/6 per head extra pay for the Day, which is funded and spent on delicacies and drinks. You will be pleased to hear that no spirits will be allowed at table. The best of it is we are all pleased.
I may go to the Williams later in the day, or on Boxing Day. Both Scouts have their lunch in my Hut now, instead of the Q.M. stores, where they are alone or with alien men. It is remarkable how their presence kills bad language, for the time. The Restraint is beautiful, but if the novelty wears off and usual conditions are gone back to I shall turn out the kids.
We had a lecture this afternoon on bombs, from an expert. We shall begin firing after New Year.
I am being waited for now to go into Romford and buy special provisions. One has gone to London for the Turkeys. I wonder what you will be having. It is galling to be kept away from Home for no useful reason, but it is not as if I were far away or long away. I really think to start on Tuesday or Wednesday.
Goodwill let there be; but Peace is a word that jars today and word for hushed breath. I shall write continually, but this poor sheet may be the one to carry you my dear Christmas Wishes the most ardent and solemn of any year yet.
Wilfred x
To Susan Owen
Sunday after Christmas (26 December 1915) T.M.C.A. (Romford)
Dearest Mother,
Your dear, lovely letter reached me this morning. It was the one thing lacking yesterday to make my Christmas the happiest possible, away from Home. I had no letter, parcel or card whatsoever yesterday; but I had my consolations. The Plenty that overpoured in our Hut of good things was noised all over the Camp. In our Hut ‘it snowed of meats and drinks.’ One Wiggins, a noted gourmand made all manner of custards & jellies; and Donaldson’s turkeys were à point. Healths were drunk; but none among us were. I had scarcely accomplished my last nut, at 3 o’clock (we sat down at 1.30!) when my Boy Scout came for me. And not long after I got to the house, we began my second Christmas Dinner, rarely good. So I made up for the Lost One in 1913! Afterwards we played Charades, exactly as we played at Home. But I shall have to tell you all about these excellent people with the live voice. There was no extension of time, last night we were all in at 9.15: but the uproar in camp could be heard afar off.
We went to Church Parade this morning as well as yesterday. The Major read the Lessons.
I have some fine Caricatures of the Colonel etc. to show you which appeared in The Tatler.
I am sorry you don’t countenance my little stay in Bath with a fair regard. Yet it is no great détour from London, and I am sure I could get a Permission, via Bath. But I haven’t heard again from Leslie. I hope you got all my letters: a succession of 4, Dec. 21, 22, 23, 24; The pocketbook-parcel hasn’t been delivered to me yet. Thanks for sending it: I hope it is safe. There seems no possibility of getting off before Wed. or Thursday.
There has been a new desertion from Camp. The boy was captured at Norwich. Two lusty ones from my hut were told off to exercise the Prisoner on Christmas Day. I have not too much spare time today, being Orderly. My Batmanship finished yesterday.
I read your dear letter many times, and shall read it. I quite well know how busy Colin must be.
It is fine to feel that now that Christmas is over, there is a greater treat in store. May my plans be sooner fulfilled than they were this time last year!
Ever your loving Wilfred, x
To Susan Owen
Postcard
Thurs. (Postmark 6 January 1916) — (Postmark Romford)
I stayed with Leslie till 5, and caught a train from Liverpool St. by chance, not knowing the times. You may be surprised to know that I had a Commission offered to me today. Are you yet more surprised to know that I refused it: Lancashire Fusiliers, just going into Fighting Line. And I haven’t fired my Musketry Course. I can tell you no more.
A list of names was read out, and we said Yes or No according to our feelings!
So glad the Dog turned up. We had an all-day march (of course) so I haven’t seen my Narks. The Gingerbreads made a warm pudding for lunch. We parade at 8.30 now!!
Yours W.E.O.
To Susan Owen
(Postmark 14 January 1916) Y.M.C.A. (Postmark Romford)
Quite impossible to write more than a card. Our Training is becoming intensive. We now finish at 6.30, and we have maps & Reports to do all evening. The Colonel gave a brilliant lecture on the causes of the War this aft. He is an expert after the style of Belloc. I had all the things you sent. Thanks, tho’ only the Keys were desired. By all means let the Diary be Mary’s. I must now get straight away to my Mapping. We spend the day with Note Books & Compasses in the district. I had a Card from Coz. May. I will tell you tomorrow about my coming week end.
Your W.E.O.
To Susan Owen
(26 January 1916) — Y.M.C.A. (Romford)
Dearest of Mothers,
I send a letter out of sheer lovingkindness, seeing there is no fact, complaint, desire, fear, regret or fancy to be addressed unto you, but only the fact of my Sonship, and my greetings to the most gentlest of mothers.
