Frank Swannell Diaries: Part I
Diaries of Frank Cyril Swannell Learn more.
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BC Archives MS-0392 - Box 1, Volume 4-5
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I had a few bad scares and felt as big as a ten story building whenever I was in the open. Got a nice little jagged piece of shrapnel shell through my overcoat , while asleep one night. That was the queer thing! How soon one gets used to the infernal racket and could sleep through the worst of it. We got "dug in" at 2 a. m., the first night and movements generally happened at uncanny hours of the night, so that although we had not blankets we could fall asleep out of pure exhaustion any old time.
The worst of the whole business was, we had to take it all and never got a shot back, except at an enemy aeroplane. The front trenches get the rifle fire, but the back lines receive most attention from the shrapnel. One night the Germans used that hellish gas on the line ahead. It lay like a thick, greenish yellow fog bank. Our men had to clear out but the Germans never struck home. Our shrapnel was bursting beautifully in a long line ahead. We got a pretty touch march back, when relieved, through the mud and over the infernal cobble stone roads, in dead of night, or course. I was so tired that I fell asleep instantly in the muddy road every halt. We carry no light load, 200 rounds of ball cartridges, for one thing, and then valise, haversack, entrenching tool, spare clothes, etc., about 65 pounds in all. Some of the straggles from that march didn't get in for two days.
For ten days fifty of us have been billetted at a French far, recuperating. We sleep in the barn. Have been having the time of my life bombarding the peasants with my most wonderful French.
At present am writing at an adjacent farm--splendid people and a wonderful old house. I have a bit of a stand-in as few of the boys know any French. We leave for God-knows-where at eight tonight, so I arranged for a little dinner for seven of us today. My birthday is the 16th but it is well to be previous. Here is the bill of fare:
Soupe .70 Biere 1.80 Pate 1.40 Pain .70 Pomme de terre .20 Oeufs 2.10 Peurre.85
7.85 (francs)
(Pate de cochon--Head cheese.)
Eggs are dear now, so many troops being close by--40 and 50 cents a dozen. It being our farewell Mme. Voe Olivier-Himar refused to take payment for some delicious apple jelly. The cooking is wonderful (You will note all we think of now is eating and sleeping.)
The country here is beautiful but near the firing lines there is hardly a house standing--the fields scored with trenches and everywhere the little wood crosses, "Ici repose, un dragon, due 2me. Reg., Tue Ied, Mai, 1915," equipment and rifles and all the debris of the charge were lying everywhere, and even in the lulls of the cannonading the larks are singing above the smoke haze.
We of the 30th are proud now to be in the Canadian Scottish. My old employer McGregor was killed just before I got here. He was paymaster but led a company in a charge, armed only with a walking cane. He was "got" in the head through exposing himself on the parapet next day. I am perfectly well and can make it stick. Will be unable to send anything more than a field post card for some time.
Bonne chance et au revoir,
Yours very sincerely,
Frank.
BC Archives, MS-0392 Box 1 Volume 4 / FRANK SWANNELL PAPERS / Diary and enclosures, 1915.