The following are interesting extracts from letters to his wife by Brigade Quartermaster-Sergt. W. E. Morgan, of Tanybryn, Tycroes, who enlisted in the Army early in September, 1914.
He joined the R.F.A. as a gunner, rising to his present rank after several promotions. As many of our readers know, he served in South Africa in French's Scouts, in which corps he also reached the rank of Quartermaster-Sergt.
His letters are from the Dardanelles :
CHARMED LIVES.
August 24th
I am very sorry I have not been able to write to you sooner; first, because of the scarcity of paper and envelopes (I have found some now); second, because we have been working day and night.
Since we landed, our Brigade has not been out of action, all the boys working at the guns day and night. I generally get my little rest in the daytime, as I have to draw rations, &c., from early evening until midnight, and in the early morning, as it is too dangerous to do so in the daytime, being that we are under heavy shell fire from the Turks all day. I have had a few narrow escapes, but luck has been on my side so far; trusting that it will last.
We are not having any luxuries here, such as the troops in France get bull beef and biscuits being our standby so far; but no doubt we shall have things improved when we get in better working order.
We are very lucky as to casualties in the Brigade only one sergeant killed (accidentally, with his own rifle) and about 18 wounded, and only one wounded in the column an officer wounded in the hand by shrapnel the first day he was in action.
The boys in the column seem to bear charmed lives; they seem to take no more notice of a large shell bursting amongst them than if a cracker had just gone off.
Our shoeing smith had his towel taken out of his hand last Monday by a shell, which burst, killing some of our horses by his side; another shell took our cookhouse away, not more than six yards from where I sleep, no one being injured.
Myself and a sergeant are dug well in under a large stone, and we are pretty comfortable in our dug-out. It is surrounded by shell boxes filled with earth, with a wagon cover on top to keep the sun off, and covered over by bushes.
A large shell has just gone past and burst among a lot of engineers, but no damage done.
Jonah Joshus did not leave England on the same boat as we did. He arrived in Egypt a week after we did, and arrived here at the Dardanelles after us. He is now in his dug-out about 30 yards form me. I saw him last night, when he came across to see if he could get something to smoke. I was lucky to have a few fags, so gave him some. We have had an ounce of tobacco issued out to us as a comfort since we have landed here, so when you find time send men a few packets of zig-zag paper.
We have been camped in the same place for nine days. Some of the boys of Ammanford who were in Ireland , are out here. They came to know that Jonah and I were here, so they came up to see us. More of them are expected in a few days.
I have also a man who used to be shunting with the Rhos engine. He is here with the Territorials. My table on which I am writing this is my mirror.
MEETING AMMANFORD FRIENDS.
September 2nd.
Just a few lines to let you know that I am still uninjured and happy under the circumstances.
We are having plenty of shelling every day; but our good luck still lasts. They gave my Brigade a terrific bombardment yesterday, but we were very fortunate, only tow officers and tow men being wounded. One of the officers had both his legs broken, and is not expected to live.
The Welsh Territorials are camped half a mile from here chaps from Ammanford, Llandilo, and Llanelly. I took a walk down under shell fire to see if I knew any of them, and met two or three that I knew from Ammanford; also some from Capel Hendre.
One man from Ammanford used to live at Penybank Sergt. Dai Thomas. I also met the Thomas who used to drive out for Rees Jones cabinet maker. He was intending to come up to see me the next night, but was never seen after a fight they had during the day; so he is reported missing, poor chap. Dai Hughes, Tan-y-bryn, I have seen twice, and he looks well, nearly too fat to move. I was so pleased to see him, and he to see me. He had heard that Twm was out here, but had not seen him.
SHRAPNEL IN THE BACK.
September 8th.
I received your letter of August 13 th safe yesterday; also the papers, tobacco, and envelopes.
I know for certain that some of my letters and papers have been blown to atoms, as I saw our Division mail bags shelled by the Turks, thirteen men being killed at the same time. I was one of the group, being on the landing stage where this happened, at the time.
I have a memento of a shrapnel which struck me in the back last week; but it had burst too far away to hurt me. our Major was with me at the time.
We are under heavy gunfire day and night, and our good luck holds still. May it continue. Corpl. McGraith, who was my deputy, was wounded in three places; also a gunner seriously wounded, with a piece of the casing of the shell inside him. They were both lying in their dug-out at the time.
The Lieutenant who was injured last week died on the hospital ship the same night. Jonah has not received letters nor papers since he landed here, and thinks he has been forgotten.
I have not been well lately, not being able to eat, and you would not know me now, as my clothes hang on me like a sack. Am taking four days rest, by Captain's orders, so shall try to write some letters.
FATE OF TWM HUGHES.
September 15th.
We are still in the same place, well dug in, as the winter has set in.
Got up yesterday morning at 5 a.m., soaked to the skin; only went to bed at three. Evidently it had been raining, as there were pools of water under me; but I have experienced it before, so as a soldier did not worry.
All day yesterday, midst shot and shell, I tried to make a good roof to keep the rain out of my palace, so think I shall be able to keep most of the rain outside.
Would you like to have a new breed of flies? We can't sleep during the night nor eat food in the day for flies; they are the worst things here. We have been through hell here; I don't want to go through another like it. Was up all night last night, soaked to the skin; can't sleep to-day for flies.
I expect you know by now that Tom Hughes is dead. About a week ago I went up to the first line of trenches, and coming back, someone called Mr. Morgan' after me, so I stopped, and after shaking hands and a few words (I did not know to whom I was speaking)
I found I was talking to a son of Morris, Old Cross Hotel, Ammanford, and he told me that poor Twm and thirteen others were killed by the same shell. I arrived back in camp about 10.30 p.m.; but in spite of my weariness (I was so cut up at the news), I walked half a mile to break the sad news to his brother Dai. I found that he had gone up to the trenches, so found the means to let him know by one of his corporals.
Give his mother my deepest sympathy. I have lost a true friend, but he died a brave man; and here's hats off to his memory. Can't write more now.
