Private Cyril Kay writes as follows, under the date September 17, 1916 from “somewhere in France”…

I will let you know as much news as I am allowed to write. We can’t tell you where we are, I am sorry to say. Anyway, that won’t trouble us, so here goes…

After six months of the best times in Egypt, we sailed for England. We left Egypt at the end of May and arrived in England on June 8 after a pleasant voyage through the Mediterranean Sea and English Channel.

We were a bit scared going through the Mediterranean on account of submarines  - ‘tin fish’.

We were chased for two hours one day; and that puts a nasty taste in your mouth, when one is out in mid-Ocean, I tell you. We got through alright though. Our ship was called The Briton – a good, fast boat.

Well, we landed in Plymouth, a very pretty township. We got to the train there, and it took about six hours to get to our destination. It was a lovely ride. As to the climate, one couldn’t wish for better. 

The train pulled up at a place called Exeter between Salisbury Plain and Plymouth. We disembarked there for buns and tea which were given to us by the Mayoress of Exeter.

The scenery was very nice going through to Salisbury Plain. When we got to our camp we had to drill practically the same as we drill in Australia, only a bit more busy.

After we were at Salisbury for a week or two we began to get leave to London.

London was about two hours’ run in the train from our camp. We used to get four days leave at a time. I visited the London Tower, Westminster Abbey and other interesting places. In the streets of London there are very few trams running. They use motorbuses mainly in the streets and the trams run underground – tubes they call them. They travel about 60 miles an hour. One has to go down in lifts to them.

Well, I was two and a half months in England and had the very best of times.

Then we left for France where I am not having as good a time, I tell you. I have been in the firing line twice and have escaped luckily each time. This kind of fighting is not as good as it is cracked up to be.

I would rather have the boxing gloves on.

As we were marching into the firing line for the first time and our (missing) all around us, I felt a bit (extracted).

(Extracted) when we got into the (extracted) trenches, a German high explosive shell landed pretty close to where I was and our Sergeant sang out, ‘I’m hit’. That shook me up a bit – first experience of a shell landing close to me.

Anyway, we got the firing line all right, then the fun started. We were about 600 yards from the Germans’ line. They peppered our line pretty hot with all kinds of shells, some of which make a hole big enough to put eight men in.

We shifted down the line a bit, a few hundred yards. We had to run across open land 200 yards, which is not a nice game.

We just got settled down alright when, bang! A big shell landed about five yards from me and two other chaps. It threw dirt all over us. We scrambled out of the dirt like rabbits getting out of their burrows and went down the trench a bit further for fear of another one landing close. We came back after a while to get our rifles and we had to dig for them, so that was a pretty narrow escape. Nobody was hurt luckily.

The nastiest job I’ve had in that firing line was going out of a night time between our lines and the German’s line digging a new trench. One could see the fire of the guns in every direction.

A piece of a shell hit my mate on the steel helmet and dented it right in. They are great things these steel helmets.

We came off that front for a spell and it was very acceptable after not having had a wash for a week and with beards like wild men. We had a good spell and then back again to another place.

The first four nights we were put on fatigue which is a nasty game.

We were in supports and had to walk about half a mile along a road where the transports pull up and get bags of tucker to take down to the boys in the fighting line.

One night it was raining pretty hard and it was pitch dark.

We were falling into shell holes and slipping all over the place.

This front was pretty quiet of shells of a night time they used to get the machine guns at work during the night.

I tell you honestly, I was walking in slushy, sticky mud up to my knees with a bag of jam and a bag of bread on one shoulder and a can of water in my hands. It was pitch dark too. I was not sorry when that night was over.

We went into the firing line after four days of that job. The line was pretty quiet generally but sometimes they would get busy. They used (extracted) a shell called a ‘Minney Wer(extracted)’ that weighs about a hundred and thirty pounds.

They shot it straight up in the air like a sky rocket and when it landed I pity anybody who was within 15 yards of it.

You will see trenches flattened in and boards flying in the air. It makes a might explosion. Kindest regards to all in Moree.