June 13th, 1916.

My dearest family,

Naturally I have not heard from you since I was hit, but I have given instructions to have my mail forwarded to [?], and it should come through before long.

I am now at No.4 London General King's College , [?] Hill, in a semi-private ward with another officer, a Canadian, not a bad chap, but somewhat disappointing. We left Etaples at 3 a.m. the day before yesterday, and we traveled just 24 hours, it was rather tiring but of course nothing to me in comparison with some of the other poor devils.

The journey should not take anything like that length of time, but the boat was held up on account of the tide, and besides you can have no conception what a stupendous task it is handling the wounded.

We came down about 400 strong in the train, and about 200, including myself, were stretcher cases. The loading of the train took a good hour, the loading of the boat longer, then the boat had to be unloaded on to the train at Dover, and the train unloaded again at London into ambulances.

I can't say enough about our treatment in France and on the way over. They fed me in the hospital before we left, again on the train before we reached Calais, twice on the boat, and most delicious meals, and free [?] cigarettes. On arriving at Dover they served a supper of coffee and bread and cheese on the train, and again hot milk etc. when we reached the station at London. You get any amount of attention and sympathy, in fact you are totally spoiled. This place comes as a rather rude shock. Of course, it is allright, but everybody is hopelessly overworked; the nurses are sour-looking and aged, the food is unappetizing, and there is a sort of general air that you are a bally nuisance.

It is a gigantic [?] with some 2000 military beds beside the civil wards, but it is in a poor district, and looks out on nothing pleasing to the eye. I had visions of a nice quiet private hospital with titled ladies and actresses fighting to see me and bringing me grapes and bewitching nurses smoothing my borrow and holding my hand! Noting stirring! The chief amusement is some misguided female I expect, someone anyhow who plays persistently at a large organ quite close to my room, and most melancholy damn tunes. She is likely to be reported missing some day soon.

I have written anybody in England who might worry about seeing my name in the casualty list, and I have also today written Mrs. Murphy and Mrs. Niel consoling with them. ………………

The question of fighting does not now resolve itself into men and the quality thereof, it is guns and munitions. I am satisfied you could not have found in the British front troops of better quality or sterner resolve than the 3 Canadian divisions who were occupying the line. In fact the fact that they were there is proof of what the British authorities thought of them. The Guards and ourselves have held the Salient longer than any other troops and in expectation of an attack. The Salient I may say is the hottest place in the British line; they say: "there is fighting, there is damned heavy fighting, and there is the Ypres salient." It just amounts to the fact that if you are in the front line at the time when and on the place where the enemy is going to attack you are wiped out. The men who attacked our Battalion walked over with full packs on and carrying shovels and sand-bags, they did not expect to find a soul alive, and cannot have found many. One man I know, a chap called Compton, who got the D.C.M. last fall was there unwounded with three other bombers, two of whom were wounded. A party of 20 Germans and an officer came round the wood on to them and for a moment were quite lost what to do. Compton and the others had 4 bombs each (rifles out of action) they immediately started to bomb the Germans, and had the satisfaction of putting 8 out of action before their bombs gave out. They then beat it across country to the support line with the Huns sniping at them as they went. Compton was hit in the thigh when about 100 yards away from the front line and 300 from the supports, his leg was broken and of course he was bleeding terribly. One of the chaps remained behind with him and dressed it although wounded through the shoulder himself, and Compton after dusk crawled into our trench still alive, and what is more, he will live. He was taken out of the field dressing station in the same ambulance as myself and is getting on O.K.

In my opinion we have only heard the beginning of this fighting at Ypres. I think probably the Germans are going to make a determined push there, but of course every day we are getting up more guns and munition and that is what counts…………………………………………………...

Frank.

I am doing splendidly - wound healing up in fine shape & my foot being massaged. Its only badly bruised & should be all right in a week. I have preserved the bullet which went through my arm & shall send it to you -