Amongst the first in and around Ammanford to rejoin the colours was private Tom Double, of Sunny Hill, Aberlash, who re-entered the ranks of his old regiment, the Northumberland Fusiliers, within a few days after Britain’s declaration of war with Germany. Since then Double has been through the thick of the fight, and some severe encounters. On Thursday last week or so at a hospital in Folkestone, where he had been invalided from the front, suffering from poisoning, and has since had an attack of neuritis. It is most probable, as soon as he is well enough, he will again return to the fighting line. A Chronicle representative called on him this week and found the brave warrior still clad in khaki, viz., a khaki trousers, and khaki woollen Cardigan jacket. He looked a typical soldier all over, his face bearing a pleasant smile. “The Germans failed to shoot me, so they tried to poison me,” was the cheerful explanation he offered. It was in the course of his chat that he described some of the thrilling episodes of the world’s greatest war. Double, on leaving Ammanford. Was sent to Newcastle-on-Tyne, and his first duties were to guard a large magazine of power, near which a few German spies were caught. He was eventually shifted with some other Fusiliers, who knew not where they were going, but on arriving in Southampton and embarking the transport, they gathered whither they were proceeding. It was at a French town that Double and his companions came up with their regiment, and the first Germans he saw were those captured. Some of them he was in charge of, taking them to the Base, which was St. Magaire. “A day or so after this,” he said, “I found myself in the firing line, and I thought I was going off my head, by seeing men killed all around me; but a soldier soon gets used to this.” “Our officers at too brave,” Double said, ”and one will never forget the way in which our Captain Matthews met his doom. We were in the trenches, and not knowing exactly the position of the enemy, Captain Matthews stood up to have a glance through his glasses, and hardly had given the order “Fire to the right,” when he had his head blown off, and his trunk dropped in the trenches by his men. “Another officer – Lieutenant Bodey – got shot in the leg, and was conveyed on a stretcher to the Red Cross Tent but on entering the tent he was shot in his side, and this time the bullet proved fatal. Thus the gallant officer died on the stretcher.” Private Double went on to say that the Germans show very little respect towards the Red Cross. “One day,” he continued, “we were at Le Bassee, chasing some Germans who were retreating, and at last they showed the White Flag, and our officer gave the order to 50 of our men (of whom I was one) to capture them, but on nearing them, the bullets began to whistle at us, and to make things worse they put the maxims on us, which resulted in only 14 of us returning to the ranks.” “There’s nothing in the German infantry, but their artillery have a very good aim, and appear to be very pleased if they can hit churches over. We were fighting at Valley, and when our wounded were carried into the church, a messenger was at once sent to the German lines, asking then to cease firing on the church owing to the wounded. The reply came, “if we hit the church it will be accidental, we wouldn’t think of doing such a thing on purpose.” At this place I saw children being struck down by shells, and it -----made my hair stand on my head.” The food we had was indeed very good, but the beef was rather salty. We were often thirsty, and it was from drinking water from a kettle that I was poisoned. We used to in the thick of the fight creep up our trenches and go into an orchard close by for apples, but it was risky, as the bullets were showering at us. “One day,” Double continued, “we had instructions to leave the trenches and go to the main road, where there were some motor ambulances to convey us away. Our boys were under the impression that we were being relived, and mounted the buses as happy as larks, singing the good old song, ‘It’s a long way to Tipperary,’ thinking they were now going back to the Base at St. Magaire or Good Old England, but we soon found ourselves in a worse place than before. Here we fought for 14 days and nights amongst the hills. This was a gruesome battle, and it will always live in my mind. During our last night here the firing was terrific, and the Guards came and relieved us. You should have seen the Germans scatter then.” “Our aviators are worth their weight in gold,” he remarked, “and one day when firing was slack we had a look up at one of the British aeroplanes; it was being peppered by the Germans, but all the shots failed to reach their target, and the aviator soon came down on our side after a very daring exploit. Aeroplanes are a very common sight near the fighting line.” Double said he would always have a warm corner in his heart for the French, as they were a fine and good natured nation. When marching through villages the natives would run out and hand the British soldiers eatables, etc., and the French soldier always gave his British Ally plenty of postcards and writing paper (some of which was shown, and given to our correspondent as a memento, to enable him to write home, as these are very scarce out in the front. “When the French get to Germany, there’s no doubt they’ll play havoc with the German towns and villages,” he said, “as they are bent on getting revenge, and mean to do so at any price. When the French people see the Britishers near they refuse to shift out of their houses, even if they are in the firing line, as they have so much confidence in the English.” Double was very near death on many occasions. He was on sentry at Vailly one day directing the officers to headquarters, when the bullets were flying at him, and he had to lay full length on the ground for an hour, until the firing at him had ceased; and another time the Regiment advanced too far, and on rising to see where they were situated, they found they were faced by hundreds of Germans. “When the fire began,” he said, “I thought it was a case of Good-bye Tom, ‘but luckily I got back to safety without a scratch, whilst the majority of my comrades were killed.” Motor cars and motor cycles blown to atoms could be seen on the roadside, in addition to many other vehicles. The majority of the pictures seen in the daily papers, said Double, gave a correct illustration of the scenes, as for on instance, he had entered chateau, or mansions, and found the places ransacked, marble clocks thrown in the fire grates, mirrors broken, wine cellars empty, and all sorts of atrocities that the German is capable of. Refugees he had seen by the hundreds, pitiful sights they were indeed. The trenches were in a terrible state, and Private Double’s uniform was shown to our correspondent. Mud and slush were not a name for it. Double was glad to get out of the trenches, if it were only for a wash, for it is after being through an ordeal of this kind that one can fully appreciate a wash. He was very optimistic of a victory, and said, “We are bound to win, but I fear it will take a very long time, and a great deal will have to be sacrificed.” On finding he had been poisoned, Double was at once sent back to England, via Boulogne, and found himself in a hospital at Folkestone. By this time he had grown whiskers, and was called the old man of the ward. Eventually he had them clipped, and joke which lasted for days in the hospital was, “What has become of the old man,” and some of the nurses would not believe what had happened when they were told. One fine afternoon he was taking a rest on the front at Folkestone when two of Kitchener’s men came past, with their buttons shining brightly, and on seeing the dirty buttons on Double, and of course not being aware that he had been out at the front, remarked, “Why don’t you clean your buttons, man?” Double replied with his finger pointing towards the sea, “When you get across there, my boys, you’ll have no time to clean buttons; you go there for something of a different nature, but at the same time I admire you for your cleanliness at home.” Double finished up a very interesting chat with our correspondent by showing him the small plate, on which is inscribed this soldier’s name, number and initials of the regiment, which is tied around the soldier’s neck for identification. “Words cannot explain what it’s like in the trenches and firing line, but John Bull is a long way from being played out this trip.”

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At Ammanford police court on Saturday, William Jones, of Llandebie-road, a private in the 4th Welsh Regiment, was brought up before – Messrs. Hy. Herbert (in the chair) and B. R. Evans – on a charge of drunkenness and disorderly conduct. Defendant said he was guilty, and Inspector Davies told the Bench that about quarter to eleven the previous night he was called out of the house and saw the defendant outside, opposite Mr. Major’s chip shop, with his coat off, his sleeves turned up, and wanting to fight. He was accompanied by another man from Llandebie, and after some persuasion they wet away, but after proceeding about fifty yards defendant commenced cursing and shouting again. He would not go away, and consequently was taken into custody. Chairman : it seems to me that he ought to be fighting the Germans instead. The Inspector explained that the members of the Ammanford Company, 4th Welsh, had all been given permission to come home on twenty-four hours’ leave prior to proceeding to another destination. In reply to the Clerk (Mr. W. L. Smith) defendant said he had to report himself to headquarters at Swansea at quarter-past five that evening. It appeared that his furlough expired on Friday, and he was on the way back when he met the other members of his company coming home and joined them. Mr. B. R. Evans : this is the result of the evil of friends “treating” soldiers on their home coming – a case of mistaken kindness altogether. Anyhow, I hope you will be in good fighting spirit when you meet the Germans. The Chairman, addressing the defendant, said they were sorry to see him before them, as he was wearing the King’s uniform. Take a lesson (he proceeded); don’t do it again. Keep yourself respectable. Don’t take any more drinks : it does not do you any good. It is your first offence, and in the circumstances you will be let off.”

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CHEERFUL LLANDEBIE “TERRIER.” WITH THE 6th WELSH IN FRANCE. P1
A cheerful little letter has been sent home by Pte. Jack Thomas, of Llandebie, serving in France with the 6th Welsh Regiment of the Territorial Forces, the recipient being Mr. Willie Rees, tailor. It reads thus :- “I now take the pleasure of penning you these few lines in the hope that they will find you in good health, as it leaves me at present. I am sorry that I have been so long before dropping you a line, but I suppose that you know the old saying – ‘ Better late than never.‘ I am also sorry that I can not let you know the name of the place I am in at present, but I shall let you know after the fun is over. How are all the boys there? – Ted Phillips, Dan Crwys Evans, Tommy, and I must not forget, John Carson and Dick Carrod. Give them my best respects. Well, we have had very good weather, but at the time of writing it is blowing and raining a bit. I never thought that we would be out here, as it was India we were told; but I had a doubt about it. We did not go till the Wednesday after Christmas dinner in Berlin – that is, this one or the next, as I am not in a hurry to come home. I am still an Officer’s Orderly, so you may see how I get a bit of life. Just fancy me flopping about wit a French girl! I can speak French all right – that is, as much as I want to. So you may guess that I am having a jolly time of it, and indeed my arm is sore shaking hands – auee le bonne fille Francdis. I have not seen Tom Maesteg and Dai Issac since I am out here. God knows where they are. I am on the look out for Dan Lemonheigh, 2nd Welsh, and Tom Double, Northumberland Fusiliers, but I have not seen them yet. Tell Ivor Jones that I have not had a letter from him yet, and I wrote to him. I have no more now, but just remember me to the K’nuts, and don’t forget to give my best wishes to them at your house. Well friend, I must wish you good-night, and good-bye until we meet again.”