THE WAR TO END ALL WARS

THE WAR TO END ALL WARS

August 9th 1914

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My darling Gertie

I write this brief letter shortly before we embark. The two horses are stowed safely. Altogether, there are xx cavalry divisions crossing the channel tonight and conditions are chaotic as you can imagine. God alone knows what part horses will play in this enterprise but the xxx Lancers shall do our very best. Look after our dear boys. You may find this letter heavily redacted as we have been advised that all mail is to pass through the censors.

My love to you dearest

Henry

August 16th 1914

Hello my darling

This is the first opportunity I have had since we bivouacked in Xxxxxx. Tell the boys that Flotsam and Jetsam are doing well though the Channel crossing was rough on both men and beasts. So far, the weather has stayed warm and dry which is as well as we are camped in the open and we have no shelter for our animals. To my chagrin, Xxxxxxxx has appointed me to his staff. I have objected as I came here to fight the Hun, after all, but I must do as I am ordered.

Much love Henry

August 23rd 1914

Dearest Gertie

The first shot was fired last evening and I am pleased to say that it was a fellow cavalryman who fired it, xxxxxxxxx at xxxxxxxx in xxxxxxx. I expect things will really start to kickoff now. Not much else to report, I’m afraid. Yesterday, we had a staff meeting attended by all officers but Xxxxxxxx bored us all to death with his monotonous drone. The man is a blithering idiot and, in my opinion, unfit to lead. I saw another officer looking at him with the same look of contempt as I. I had never seen this officer before but he was a rank above myself. He seemed to be making notes with a fine, gold ballpoint pen. I attempted to have a word with him at the conclusion of our meeting but he had slipped away. Horses are fine although restless and much in need of exercise. Darling, do you think you could kindly send me on my own gold pen; the one my father left me? My love to you and the two boys.

Henry

September 5th 1914

Dear Gertie

I am unsure how quickly news is getting back to Blighty but I thought it best to write immediately in case you were alarmed. Xxxxxxxx organised an unnecessary recce of conditions at the front and ordered a mounted patrol which he, himself, led. I was, at first, dismayed to be excluded but the entire contingent of the Xxx Xxxxxxx were killed in a shell attack by the Germans at Xxxxxx. Xxx good men, needlessly lost. 150 horses, too. Among them were Xxxxxx Xxxxxxx, Xxxx Xxxxxxx and Xxxxxxx Xxxx. All that remain of the Xxx are devastated. I know you will do your best for their poor families. I now find myself in charge of the Xxx and have called a meeting in an effort to restore morale.

My love to you all

Henry

September 8th 1914

Dear Gertie

As I am now in charge of the 9th, this letter will come by diplomatic bag and, thus, avoid the censors. Thank you for the pen and the socks, darling. It is a miracle how stuff from Blighty gets through. This missive gives me the opportunity to appraise you of our real situation. The death of our good friends, Albert Jessups, Paul Shelley and Francis Knox was a severe blow and I know that you will have been terribly upset by the news. May God have mercy upon their souls. The rain has started to make our lives miserable as we are surrounded by a sea of mud. Conditions are miserable for the nags, especially. This is no war for horses. Flotsam is ailing and I think he has a cold. A vet has given him a shot. Best not tell the boys. I called a meeting after Phillips disastrous recce in order to boost morale. I think I succeeded, just. Once again, I saw that strange officer I spoke of previously. He was wearing a trench coat and it seemed such a sensible thing. I wonder why I hadn’t thought of it myself. Please, darling, could you go to the Army and Navy in Victoria Street and purchase a trench coat for me? They have all my measurements.

Love to you and the boys

Henry Ransome Lt. Colonel

9th Lancers

October 1st 1914

Dearest Gertie

I am so sorry not to have written sooner but I have been so terribly busy. The 9th were ordered to use our horses to transport ammunition to the front. Then, to transport fresh troops in wagons to the front and bring back the dead and wounded to the rear. These are cavalry horses, not beasts of labour. It is outrageous. Flotsam, alas, died but, at least, was spared this ignominious task. Jetsam is exhausted by the work load, as are all the other horses. Mules have been drafted in to augment our numbers. Mules! I cannot even begin to express how I feel about the situation. The casualties, man and beast, are horrific and the wet conditions are not helping. Thank you, while I remember, for the trench coat and, also, the jam and cake, which I shared with all of the 9th. There is nobody I can even share our situation with; officers are killed and replaced with such rapidity. I really need somebody of a superior rank to press our case. Yesterday, I saw that unknown officer walking through our camp, as I looked out from my tent. He was wearing the same trench coat which was now filthy and splattered with mud and he appeared to be smoking a pipe. I hesitated just to don my own trench coat and set off after him, thinking that he would be an ally in my protestations about our horses being used for manual labour. Unfortunately, I succeeded only in getting drenched and, today, I am wretched with a cold. I must keep my head up though for the sake of morale though I fear my nerves are stretched thin and I have started my old habit of grinding my teeth which does not help me sleep well. We must forebear.

My love to you and the boys, dearest

Henry Ransome Lt. Colonel

9th Lancers

October 11th 1914 Dear Gertie

The Germans have resorted to using gas. It is appalling. The staff propose to hit back with our own gas attacks. Is this what the art of war has come down to? Jetsam. I am afraid was a victim of one such attack, as were several other horses. Our main corps now consists of mules. They are hardy beasts and have earned my respect for their powers of endurance. My cold refuses to go away and I am now coughing.

I have searched all around for that strange officer. He is a Colonel but nobody seems to know of whom I am talking. I am assuming that he belongs to another unit and must seek him out as I desperately need an ally if I am to make my case before we have no horses left. Fodder is now in short supply. I thank you, darling, for the books and the strange gift of a pipe. I have never been a smoker but I believe you have sent it to me to bite down on to help with the grinding of my teeth? You are a wonder.

My love to you and our boys

Henry Ransome Lt. Colonel

9th Lancers

November 1st 1914

My darling Gertie

Horror upon horror! Though I thought to hide this awful truth from you, darling, I want somebody to know what is really going on here. Thousands slaughtered unnecessarily by attacks that gain just a few inches of ground, if that. It is appalling. We are bringing dead and injured back from the front daily but are struggling to cope. The rumour is that French is to be replaced as Commander in Chief but why in God’s name are they taking so long to make that change? The man has no empathy for the men whatsoever. I had an opportunity to speak directly to him about the general chaos and lack of coordination all around and our desperate need of fodder for the horses and mules or they cannot carry on much longer. All French did was listen but offered no suggestion of how we might improve things. Today, to my amazement, I have received word that I have been promoted! For what? I am a cavalry officer reduced to a transporter of corpses. But this is how French operates; he promotes those who complain in order to shut them up. My cough is so much worse and conditions so awful that, for the first time in my life, I do not bother to shave daily. If anything should happen to me, Gertie, let these letters be a record of the truth.

I send you my fondest love and long to see you again

Henry Ransome Colonel

9th Lancers

November 8th 1914

Can it truly be only four months since I came across the Channel to fight the Hun? Four months of a hellish nightmare, my darling. We lost five more officers and fifteen men, yesterday, when shells were dropped so far behind the front. These Germans will stop at nothing. I was unharmed but I am dreadfully ill. I cough badly and, as I write this, I lie upon my camp bed shivering. I fear I have pneumonia but how can I complain or insist on medical assistance when so many are dead or dying? I...

My apologies, darling. I had to stop writing for a moment, a man looked into my tent, the rain teeming down outside. It was that same officer, the strange one of whom I have spoken so often. He looked soaked through, his trench coat filthy and his face with several day’s growth. It is not right that a Colonel should go about unshaven; bad for morale but I can hardly talk. His face, Gertie, his eyes, they looked so familiar...

November 14th 1914

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My dear Mrs. Ransome

It is with great sadness that I write to inform you of the tragic death of your husband, Colonel Henry Ransome, 9th Lancers, who died in a shell attack by German forces on November 8th of this year.

Colonel Ransome was a brave and respected officer and the Commander in Chief has asked me to pass on his personal condolences.

Colonel Ransome has been buried with full military honours but we have some personal items that you may wish to be forwarded to you. On the other hand, you may find these to be too distressing and I shall hold onto them until I hear back from yourself. They consist of a trench coat, a pipe and a gold fountain pen.

Once again, my sincere commiserations.

Yours respectfully

Lt. Colonel Arthur Bridges

Adjutant to Brigadier John French CICGS

British Expeditionary Force