Cookies

Cookie settings

Transcript: Camp-Alexandria Letter

Camp-Alexandria

1/1 Worcestershire Yeomanry
2nd Mounted Division
Base Post Office
Alexandria
B.M.E.F

Post Office 1st Nov 1915

My Dear Old Dad,

The above address will always find me sooner or later.  It is the only safe one to give as we may be moved from here (Mudros) before long or, on the other hand we might stay here until after Xmas.   I believe the weather is likely to be quite decent until Xmas and then much colder and wet.   We may get sent back to Alexandria – no one seems to want us here!  We are moving into another camp a few miles off soon where there is a good water supply but food will be just as scarce.  I should be glad of small packets sent out separately so that some of them may reach me.  Plain chocolate, candles, Horlicks malted milk tabloids + meat or soup tabloids, also quaker oats.   I had no time to get these things in England.  It was such a rush, and I couldn’t get them in Malta.   Don’t send me much at a time, small dribbles so that if some of it gets lost I shall get a little of it.  I’ve had all my hair clipped off close to the scalp.  It is a bit chilly but much cleaner + easier to manage.  I’ve no time to write more.  Biddy has a longer epistle but it doesn’t contain much more news.  We know nothing - we are just dumped here waiting until we are taken away to be dumped somewhere else.  If it wasn’t for the censor I could tell you one or two things that you will never read of in the papers!  But it is useless, I will tell you when I return.  I don’t find the rations so bad as some of the others do who have had no previous experience in the ranks, but there seems to be very little of them.  They seem to shrivel in the cooking!  I’m alright + haven’t been attacked by dysentry yet which is rife everywhere on this island. 


My best love to you all.  I hope you are keeping fit.  The poor beggars back from Gallipoli for a rest look like haggard scarecrows.  They say most of the men couldn’t charge if they were told to, + I can quite believe it.  Cheer oh. 
Your loving son,
Brian.   

B. Hatton     

Go to top

Site map