€¦ · web viewrc sherriff letters source ... it is made of wood entirely and quite...

RC Sherriff letters source analysis activity - student sheetTeacher: you may want to cut out the summaries - which end with the SHC (Surrey History Centre) reference for the letter – before you print this off for the students.

You could divide the class into 3 groups, and give them letters 1(a) and (b), 2, and 3 respectively. Related Powerpoint ‘Source task: Analysing R.C.Sherriff’s letters’

(1a) Letter from Sherriff to his father, 27 July 1917. Sherriff’s letters to his parents are almost invariably warm and loving, but here he reacts with derision to his father’s suggestion that bombing raids on London mean that non-combatants at home are also enduring ‘the hardships of war’. Written at: ''...same address''. Sherriff has been three days out of the front line. He found being in the front line very difficult, and he is now trying to catch up on his sleep as much as his duties will allow. Sherriff is trying to bear the strain patiently and hopes the war will not last many more months, provided ''...the Russians...pull themselves together''. He is unsympathetic to his father's remark that the occasional bombing of London means civilians are experiencing the hardships of war. Sherriff points out how soldiers at the Front endure bombings night and day on a daily basis, and do not have cellars to retreat to as Londoners do. He is feeling slightly nauseous after a gas [attack].(SHC ref 2332/1/1/3/199)

You say in your letter you are now having to hear the hardships of war on account of the aeroplane sounds – if only I could have those in exchange for these! What would the Londoners think if there was a fleet of aeroplanes dropping bombs day in day out – all night too – not a moment when something does not drop somewhere. What would I not give for an occasional day with no firing at all as you get in London – if only some of the Londoners could have a day over here and then be put back into London. I am sure whether would not worry an occasional bombing – specially when they have cellars to run into anywhere (which we don’t always and even if we have must not always use if on duty) – I am afraid you do not appreciate your happy lot sufficiently.

I have got a touch biliousness possibly caused by inhaling some gas the other day – very slightly though – and I am having an easy day resting today. Yesterday by way of relaxation I went into a large town near (the town of happy memory

of 9 www.exploringsurreyspast.org.uk/rcs-schools/

from which I went on leave!) and had a walk round and lunch and dinner – it is such a change to get away like that…..


(1b) Letter from Sherriff to his mother, 14 Nov 1916, In the trenches he suffered from bouts of neuralgia and here describes how the constant sound of shells shredded his nerves.Written at: ''...usual address''. Sherriff feels unwell and gives a detailed account of how two days of heavy shelling by the Germans is affecting his mental state. (SHC ref 2332/1/1/2/111)

Usual Address.

14.11.16

Dear Mother,

I believe I wrote two letters running to Pips, so I am doing the same to you – I am afraid that I have got a touch of influenza as I don’t feel very lively – I don’t feel bad in myself except a bit of a cold but I feel all I want to do is to lie down and sleep, fortunately I can manage to do this a great deal if I want to, though I think it is a bad habit to get into, to always be sleeping – still I will take some of my compressed medicine I think and see how that does – there is no need to worry dear, if I feel really bad enough I would go round to the Doctor straight away – only seems to affect my nerves a bit, too, they shelled this district again this morning and really I am quite ashamed of the way it makes me tremble – when I hear a shell whistle overhead I immediately get that sort of cold feeling all up my spine, if you know what I mean, and my tongue feels all dry – yesterday they shelled the district just as I was sitting down to lunch and it immediately made me feel quite sick – with no appetite at all for dinner – it is strange that I did not feel this when I had those first 8 days in the trenches, it is since I have been here that I have felt this worst – perhaps due to the time that you are alone, (which I like for some reasons). I hope my nerves will improve, though, it is not at all a pleasant feeling to get nervous so quickly and easily.

Well, dearie, and go things at the hospital? All well, I hope, and that you are still taken….


(2) Letter from Sherriff to his father, 4 Oct 1916 (6 pages)

Address: 9th East Surrey [Regiment], 24th Division, British Expeditionary Force, France. Sherriff has not yet been to the Front but has already ''...seen enough of war to disgust me''. He can hear the noise of machine guns and shells at the Front, and does not look forward to his first experience of being under enemy shell fire. Tomorrow he will lead a working party of 50 men who will make some repairs [to a communication trench] near the front line. The shed he is living in is infested with rats and mice, but he is enjoying reasonably good meals at the officers' mess. There are currently two captains and six lieutenants in [''C''] Company, who are ''...all very nice''. He admires the men's cheerfulness despite the hardships they endure. Sherriff notes the impossibility of buying anything but ''...chicory and coloured glass vases'', and asks his father to arrange with his mother for food parcels to be sent.(SHC ref 2332/1/1/3/88)

9th East Surreys

24th Division

British Expeditionary Force

4.10.16

France

Dear Pips,

I have now spent close on a week in France and it seems months since I sailed.

I have seen plenty to interest me and enough of war to disgust me without having been into the Front Line yet.


At present I am on what is termed a “quiet part” of the front although at certain intervals during the day there is enough banging away off in the front line (half a mile or so away) to let you know there is a war – and at night you here the machine guns going “tap tap tap” like some impatient person knocking at the door.

Yesterday I made a journey up the line to find my away about – the ground is just as it appears in photos – absolutely honeycombed with shell holes which are now covered up in some places by rank looking weeds.

All the way up the trenches you here a bang behind and then a fearful screeching as the shell flies by and a second later a dull crash as it comes down behind the German lines.

The support line where I am has been free from bombardment up till now – and I hope it will remain so until we leave – I expect the first time under shell fire will be far from pleasant.

Tomorrow I am in charge of a working party of 50 men going up near the front line to do some repairs – they were shelled today so I may get a dose tomorrow – but the “baptism of fire” has got to come and it may be as well to get it over.

I have told you, I believe, how we are living here – in a shed which is quite comfortable if it were not for the Rats and Mice – one (with maybe an accomplice) got into the haversack which I was using as a pillow last night and bit through the liner of my emergency ration, marvellous feat considering the thickness of the clot – I heard them busy scratching about in the night.

We have quite a comfortable Mess – it is a dugout with a table down the middle and little sleeping bunks down the sides – we have quite good Meals too - bacon or sausages for breakfast and porridge cold tongue or salmon and bread and butter for lunch, and tea at 4 o’clock with dinner at 8 o’clock – there are 8 of us to the Company – 2 Captains and 6 Lieutenants all very nice.

The rain is very unpleasant as regards making everything very sticky – I have to inspect my mens rifles in their dugouts when it is wet – the men are wonderfully cheerful when considering the hardships they have to put up with – they get wet through and then set about getting dry before the little cokes fires under the most trying circumstances treating it almost as a joke.

We all wear steel helmets which are rather heavy until you get used to them – but now I am touching on military matter and must get off them quickly or will be letting out secrets.

My chief worry is the impossibility of buying anything here – of course it is quite out of the question in the lines, but even in the rest billets it is almost out of the question to buy anything except what you don’t want – chicory and coloured glass vases seem to be the chief articles which french people specialise in.

So if you could arrange with Mother to send me out parcels periodically – deducting the Cost from my account book I shall be very glad – it seems the custom here to get parcels and share some of the contents at Mess.


Chocolate, peppermints or anything of that nature which are difficult to get here would be very acceptable.

By the way – I expect my private account has run rather dry – so will let me know what I owe and I can send you a cheque so that you will money to get these things.

As I write I can hear trench mortars firing which make a noise like rolling a big square tank along.

We do not have very much to do here unless detailed for a working party – so I occupy most of my time in reading and writing.

Washing is rather an awkward procedure when up the line here as water is rather deficient to procure but on the whole we are living here in reserve almost the same we did in rest.

Things have moved so quickly since I left home that I expect I have only given you a pretty hazy idea of what has happened, so as it is all bound stand well in my memory I will not recount anything of my journey bringing me here reserving that for another time when I hope I will be able to tell you all about it on a walk down Cromwell Road at some time I hope not far distant. I will write to you again as soon as I can, so goodbye for the present and I hope shall hear from you or mother soon – I know it will take quite a week to get any letters at first on account of my changes of address, so will not expect any till I get them.

From your loving son

Bob


(3) Letter from Sherriff to his father, 22 May 1917

9th East Surrey Regt.,

24th Division,

B.E.F

France

22.5. 17

Dear Pips,

I am writing this letter book-form, because I have no table to rest the paper on – I am also writing with the remains of ink in my pen which will I fear, run out before I finish the letter.

My present home consists of a kind of dog kennel let into the side of a trench – from the door of which I obtain a good view of multitudes of boots going by – the door being just low enough to crawl in. The dimensions of my home are roughly 3 foot broad by 6 foot long by 3 foot high – it is made of wood entirely and quite rectangular. On the floor are a few layers of sandbags and on one side is my mackintosh sheet with blanket on top forming quite a comfortable bed – a little wooden shelf at one end forms a place for my washing materials, books etc. and some strong nails on the wall form hooks to hang up my equipment and top boots.

On the fire step above me is a sentry post formed by men of a Northern regiment – whose conversation is as difficult to interpret as French – but which can occasionally be interpreted sufficiently to understand – their dinner having just arrived in a hot food container they deplore the “waste of good water” on the part of the cooks but nevertheless squabble over their shares – they have an extraordinary habit of punctuating nearly every word with a swear word adjective with makes everything much longer than necessary to say – and despite the general foulness of their language they have a queer sense of humour which is sometimes interesting. For examples the sentry above me informs someone below that “Fritz is getting in the ‘abit of knocking me orf this ‘ere shelf”.

There is plenty of humour here that is too simple a kind to put on paper – must passing remarks in the Mess which is a little tin place like a chicken coop, into which our waiter pushes steak and onions, chocolate blancmange etc. through a little door about as big as a booking office counter (like feeding some kind of animal at the zoo). It seems that the more trying the time you are having is, the more eagerly one picks up things to laugh over when safe for a little while in the dugout termed, “the Mess.” The officers at present in my Company are exceedingly nice – all a good deal older than myself but I could not wish for better friends – the only trouble is that they are continually changing.

As I have said before – much I should like to tell you is forbidden ground and I cannot describe even what our work consists of.

And while I lay in my little dog kennel – a glorious May morning which ought to be spent at cricket – I see the soles of boots of the sentry above me dangling down in front of my door and hear the sound of shells rippling by overhead like a boat through water – with an


occasional whizz!! Plomp!! As one lands near here - I often try and figure out the reason of it all – the apparent uselessness and waste and pity of it all – the utter lack of romance, chivalry and heroics that distinguishes it from any other war – I suppose there must be something good in it somewhere – but what I cannot see – is it the hardening of men’s characteristics or a lesson to men to appreciate peace more – or a lesson to man for outraging nature in so many ways.

There are some apparent good things which will come however – to those who survive – will it not teach man self reliance and self control – love of home and peace – ability to shift for one self (how many men I wonder, has the war taught to shame themselves) a stimulus to their love for their wives and parents by the very act of being so long away from them – has it not compulsorily caused many drunkards, pickpockets, murderers and thieves to give up their professions and to give them an opportunity of starting afresh.

It is a wonderful leveller too – it will teach democracy – I have in my platoon a section in which the Corporal is a Bricklayer who has under him a Shop Assistant, a Bootmaker, a Decorator, a Printer, a groom, a Groundsman, a Bank Clerk, a conductor, a Washouseman and a Farmer – almost an incredible mixture.

An infantry officer lives much more with his men than any other and can have much opportunity of reading these men’s characters. The Printer does not like the Bank Clerk for some reason – an the Washhouseman isn’t fond of quince jam, gave his portion yesterday to the Bootmaker for 2 envelopes.

You just notice these little things – and occasionally hear little remarks and by talking to them you hear little things of their domestic affairs.

You ask me whether this is anything I want specifically for my birthday – I should like something very much which I could keep about my person, and which I could always remember you by – just like my signet ring – could you get, say, a cigarette case or something like that and have our arms engraved inside it – something permanent like that which would always be a thing to remember this famous year by.

Now I think I will stop my letter, hoping I have been able to give you a little more of interest than usual. Hoping you are all quite well at home and that I shall have the good luck soon to get home on leave.

From your loving son Bob.


€¦ · web viewrc sherriff letters source ... it is made of wood entirely and quite...

Documents