24/12/1914

Private G. Hand, of the South Wales Borders, now in the Duchess of Westminster’s hospital in Paris, writes to a friend in Burry Port. He is well known at Ammanford, having resided for some time in Penybank, and his letter, which is as follows, will be read with interest in the town : - “I am here like a young colt, feeling quite well except for the old arm. Of course, I cannot throw my arm about just as I like, and I don’t expect I will for a while. We are well looked after in hospital. We get everything we want, and as there are 300 of us here, you can guess the work of the sisters and the orderlies. I must tell you how I got my little lot. I can tell you I am lucky to be as I am because they tried hard to put me out. On October 29 we advanced to take up a position. Well, we got it, but we had to lie in a wood until dark. I had two bullets in by pack as I was lying down. My head was very low on the ground, or I should have had them through there. When it was dark we left the wood and dug trenches during the night, then lay in them. We were there until the afternoon of October 31, until we were forced out of it by thousands of Germans. They came along like a lot of bees, but they soon stopped after we tried a little, and gave them a doing. After I had fired a few rounds I got these two. They were only about 6 yards away at the time with only a little hedge between us. Bullets were flying around like a swarm of bees, and I had to lie in a trench until dark, when I found my way to hospital. Our boys fought back to the same place again, but lost a lot of men, though the Germans lost at least double the number. Next day, when I examined my great coat I found a bullet hole through my right wrist, another through the right arm, another through the left arm they went through the coat so hey only hit me two out of five. I call myself lucky.

OUR DRILL SERGEANT P3

A few months back he wasn't much to speak of;
By profession just a plain commissionaire.
If you addressed him he would touch the peak of
His braided cap and answer you with care,
You see, when he retired from active service,
With medals gained while fighting with the Boer,
His grateful country said, “What you deserve is
A shiny stool outside some office door, My old Non-Com !”
But when our suburb set itself to muster its own battalion of the Spare Time Corps,
The authorities were in a pretty fluster
For want of men to drill the Johnny Raw.
“Now then !” said they (of course, they used politer
Language, with a more persuasive ring),
“This here's your chance, you obsolete old blighter!
Get off the stool and come and serve your King, My old Non-Com !”
So now we all obey him with precision,
And fall in quickly when we hear him shout;
We show respect, and hope he's short of vision
When we wobble as we try to right about,
Oh, you may have been his managing director
When he sat upon that shiny office stool;
But you've got to hold your blanky head erect, or
You're nothing but a (censorated) fool

To this old Non-Com !”

DUDLEY CLARK .



ALLIES MAINTAINING PRESSURE DISILLUSIONMENT OF BERLIN OVER “ POLAND VICTORY.”
06/08/14 13/08/14 20/08/14 27/08/14 03/09/14 10/09/14 17/09/14 24/09/14 01/10/14 08/10/14 15/10/14 22/10/14 29/10/14	AMMANFORD SCIENCE MASTER.. CAPTURED AFTER SIX WEEKS' FIGHTING. Men Fell on Right and Left and a Bullet Just Missed His Heart. P1 Second-Lieutenant W. Thomas, the appointed science-master at the Ammanford Intermediate School, who, as already reported, is a prisoner of war in Germany, has written home a letter to Llandyasilio, giving additional details of the experiences he underwent before being captured. He was wounded in the left shoulder, and is now in a German hospital at Paderborn, Westphalia. “Since I last saw you, he writes, “I have had a most terrible time, six weeks unceasing fighting in France, with men falling right and left of me. I often heard last groans and prayers, but I always got off. However, my turn arrived on October 13, when a bullet entered my left shoulder. It was all over with me, and I became unconscious. Later I was taken up by the German Red Cross and off to hospital. I am still in hospital, by feel fairly well. The bullet has not been extracted. I shall have it taken out at the Millbank Military Hospital when I return. You need no send me anything.” . “CEIDDRYM” AND THE KAISER. SINGING PRAISES OF A SOLDIER TRUE. P7 These verses were sung by “Ceidrym” on the occasion of a smoker (word) in honour of Private Dan ---------------, who had been invalided home after being wounded while fighting for his King and country. To change the map of Europe The nations are at war, And many now are fighting That never fought before, Siberians and Zealanders, And Gurkhas and Sepoys, Red Indians, Pathans, Fijians, And many British boys. And in their midst we cheer A soldier true, to-night, Who's proved himself a warrior And ready for the fight. We've met all here to greet him, And honour dear Dan, For he's proved himself right always A soldier and a man. He's been in many battles, He's gone through many a mill, But they have never ground him, And I think they never will, For he's again returning To fight the good old cause, And pop the cruel Kaiser Upon his meddling done. On Sunday in the paper Twas said of Kaiser's hair That it had turned its colour And goes all white with care; I never saw the tyrant, The truth I cannot tell, But one plain fact we're sure – His heart's as black as hell. We're taught to fight the devil By every means and ways, But the Kaiser beats the devil In all his wicked ways; A butcher like the Kaiser Mankind has never fought, For he has done a thousand things The devil never thought. Thank God for men like Danny To go to face the knave Who's sacrificed in thousands The innocent and brave: We hope he'll smash the Kaiser, And shut his awful row, And bring when he's returning His whiskers to the Plough.	BULLETS FLYING AROUND. HOW A PENYBANK SOLDIER GOT WOUNDED. OVERCOAT RIDDLED, BUT ONLY Two SHOTS GOT HOME. P1 Private G. Hand, of the South Wales Borders, now in the Duchess of Westminster’s hospital in Paris, writes to a friend in Burry Port. He is well known at Ammanford, having resided for some time in Penybank, and his letter, which is as follows, will be read with interest in the town : - “I am here like a young colt, feeling quite well except for the old arm. Of course, I cannot throw my arm about just as I like, and I don’t expect I will for a while. We are well looked after in hospital. We get everything we want, and as there are 300 of us here, you can guess the work of the sisters and the orderlies. I must tell you how I got my little lot. I can tell you I am lucky to be as I am because they tried hard to put me out. On October 29 we advanced to take up a position. Well, we got it, but we had to lie in a wood until dark. I had two bullets in by pack as I was lying down. My head was very low on the ground, or I should have had them through there. When it was dark we left the wood and dug trenches during the night, then lay in them. We were there until the afternoon of October 31, until we were forced out of it by thousands of Germans. They came along like a lot of bees, but they soon stopped after we tried a little, and gave them a doing. After I had fired a few rounds I got these two. They were only about 6 yards away at the time with only a little hedge between us. Bullets were flying around like a swarm of bees, and I had to lie in a trench until dark, when I found my way to hospital. Our boys fought back to the same place again, but lost a lot of men, though the Germans lost at least double the number. Next day, when I examined my great coat I found a bullet hole through my right wrist, another through the right arm, another through the left arm they went through the coat so hey only hit me two out of five. I call myself lucky. OUR DRILL SERGEANT P3 A few months back he wasn't much to speak of; By profession just a plain commissionaire. If you addressed him he would touch the peak of His braided cap and answer you with care, You see, when he retired from active service, With medals gained while fighting with the Boer, His grateful country said, “What you deserve is A shiny stool outside some office door, My old Non-Com !” But when our suburb set itself to muster its own battalion of the Spare Time Corps, The authorities were in a pretty fluster For want of men to drill the Johnny Raw. “Now then !” said they (of course, they used politer Language, with a more persuasive ring), “This here's your chance, you obsolete old blighter! Get off the stool and come and serve your King, My old Non-Com !” So now we all obey him with precision, And fall in quickly when we hear him shout; We show respect, and hope he's short of vision When we wobble as we try to right about, Oh, you may have been his managing director When he sat upon that shiny office stool; But you've got to hold your blanky head erect, or You're nothing but a (censorated) fool To this old Non-Com !” DUDLEY CLARK .	05/11/14 12/11/14 19/11/14 26/11/14 03/12/14 10/12/14 17/12/14 24/12/14 31/12/14