Saturday 8 June, 1918 Another place

Somewhere in France

My dear mother,

As you seen by my new address I have made the long anticipated change of habitation. Yesterday reveille was later than usual as we were not starting till after dinner. The morning was occupied by packing up and the remainder of the time I rested. Dinner was at 12 o/c and parade in full marching order was at 1.30pm. Then we started the march. With thoughts of what I went through on that march of which I gave you a little idea a month ago, all the "stuffing" was nearly knocked out of me before I started. But the day was fine, a breeze blowing and the country through which we were marching was pretty so I didn't do so badly. Fortunately I was at the head of the column and was thus not dust choked as some those at the rear must have been. As a rule the french roads are not protected from the glare of the sun by hedges as they are in England, so that during the afternoon the heat was rather uncomfortable. We had sweat halts during the earlier part of the march which were welcome. We had tea on the roadside at 5.30pm just outside a fairly large town which was situated in a well wooded valley. By this time I was about knocked to the world but after the half an hour's respite for tea I felt refreshed and was settling down to the remaining eight kilos when a couple of lorries met us to take our packs. My word! Didn't we cheer. As soon as we had dumped our packs we became as merry as sand boys and could have marched "umpteen" miles more. So the remainder of the march was done with comparative ease. We spent last night in tents just outside a large village and the majority of us slept like tops. As for me, I got to sleep in no time and did not wake until 8o/c this morning when breakfast was ready.

We are striking camp later on today and going further on to our destination, but we shall not mind the march as our packs are being carried.

I should suppose that we marched about twelve miles in all so that you can guess that I feel a bit stiff. Happily my feet are not sore, the boracic powder with which I filled my socks prevented that.

I am traveling eastwards from the last place and am therefore getting a bit nearer the war; but as I am not going much further there is nothing to worry about.

Well, I think this is all the news up to last night. I did not have a chance of posting yesterday's letter as there was no outgoing post.

I hope you are well and as cheery as usual.

Now I must say Tootletoo

Your loving son

Bert xxxxxxx