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Saturday 11 November 2017

Monday 12th November 1917

On trains.

The journey along the Mediterranean coast raised Sgt. George Richard Goodchild (see 11th November), to even greater heights of rhapsody,
“It was Marseilles which welcomed us at 6.30 am on Monday the 12th.  I had often heard of the clear blue of the skies of the Mediterranean.  Now I saw them, for as the morning mists cleared – there had been a white frost during the night – the vault of heaven showed us a cloudless blue.  The waters of the Mediterranean we could not see then.  The whole town of Marseilles glinted and sparkled in the sunlight, its creamy walls reflecting the sun’s rays and causing the eyes to blink with their brilliance, whilst overall was a glorious dash of gold caused by the sun striking the golden tipped tower of a large church in the town.  We stayed here long enough to have a wash and clean up.  The latticed windows were just opening and signs of renewed life for the days toil were just becoming evident.  Queues waited for the morning trams just as they do at home causing memories to crowd once more to the mind, for who cannot remember the jostling of civilians all anxious to secure seats on the cars and the pushing that there is on the conductor’s platform when the absurd idea of giving tickets at termini is carried out?  Upon reaching Marseilles we completed the crossing of the entire length of France, something most of us had ever imagined we should do.
We left the French port at about 8 o’clock and passed through varying vistas of beauty along the sea coast until reaching Aubagne at 9 o’clock.  Between these two places we saw the first nectarine trees – originally mistaking them for orange trees.  Half an hour afterwards we were passing through deep cuttings excavated out of the solid rock.  These were of a dazzling whiteness and hurt the eyes to look upon them.  At 9.40 am we got our first glimpse of the Mediterranean with its broad blue bosom heaving gently and the waves rippling on the shore and sparkling in the sunshine.  This lay on our right.  On our left were seemingly impassable barriers of hills, but these were negotiated by means of lengthy tunnels bored out of the solid rock.  Each time we came out into the daylight the sea welcomed us and all eyes were out of the right hand windows of the train straining to see everything of the coast which it was possible to observe.  Many have paid thousands of pounds to see what we were seeing for nothing and it is now quite understandable to us why people so willingly pay these large sums to visit the wonderful and beautiful southern portion of France and the Mediterranean.
Next came St Cry-sur-Mer which was reached at 9.55, and between that bright little place and Toulon the country was one beautiful vineyard protected by hills and mountains of great grandeur and splendour.  We arrived at Toulon at 10.11 and received a great welcome.  At the station itself Red Cross nurses came to greet us with smiles of welcome on their faces and good things to eat and drink in their hands.  The populace were not behind hand either for they turned out in large numbers and cheered us in our way.  Our band played lively airs on the platform their efforts culminating in the rendering of the Marseillaise which aroused great enthusiasm.  As the train steamed out we were given a parting cheer and we left the great naval arsenal behind bringing with us pleasant memories of our short visit to its hospitable precincts.
Here it may be apposite to draw attention to something which may not have impressed itself on everybody.  I refer to the great use of electricity for lighting and power purposes in France.  Every little hamlet has its supply.  We in England think we are almost pioneers in the use of electricity and believe we have achieved something great when the water power of a small village is harnessed to produce electricity for the inhabitants.  We are, however, a long way behind France in this respect, for literally every nook and cranny is illuminated by electricity.  This was the thing which perhaps impressed itself upon my mind more than anything else during the journey.
At 1.50 pm we were at Camoulles where we made a short halt for refreshments.  Now the earth was of a chocolate colour differing from any I had ever seen before.  It gave the whole earth a warm and inviting appearance and was evidently of a good yielding quality for everywhere vines were in profusion just shedding their leaves but still giving a fair indication of the life giving properties of the soil in which they grew.  The hills too were noticeable because here and there one could see small smoke clouds hovering over the mountain tops proving we were in a volcanic country.  Fortunately no outburst of the earth’s fury occurred during our passage through this part of France.  Now the houses had exteriors of the palest of pinks and fig trees grew in profusion with sloes for neighbours.  At Camoulles a native lady have us gifts of freshly plucked figs.  They were entirely different from the fig as the Englishmen ordinarily knows it.  Of a damson blue colour on the outside the inside somewhat resembles that of a pomegranate on a small scale.  The taste was also altogether different.  It was somewhat sour and, after eating a few of these figs, we one and all came to the conclusion that the dried fig so well known in England was far preferable to the fresh variety.  Another noticeable point in this district was the fort crowned hills.  The highest of the rocky peaks were all surmounted by forts in various stages of dilapidation and decay, but still giving indications of the strong topographical advantages the occupiers of them must have held in former days.  They were now but shadows of their former selves but withal with interest to historians and antiquarians.
Les Arcs was our next stopping place.  We reached here at 3.00 pm on the 12th and had a welcome drink of coffee.  I was one of the lucky ones who were fortunate enough to purchase a few nectarines.  These were luscious and appetizing, but next time I shall remove their tough skins before eating them for these leave rather a nasty taste in the mouth.  I am told that the proper way to eat a nectarine is to slice off the top and consume the fruit with the aid of a spoon so removing all necessity for the skin to touch the lips.  Cactus growths now appeared in great profusion; huge prickly bushes which, formerly we had only seen in a few of our English hot houses.  At Les Arcs, too, we were able to send letters home and I managed to get one letter and a few Field Post Cards home to England.
Proceeding to Cannes we passed Boulourade sur Mer; St Raphael with its large granite quarry; Agay where we made a short halt, and just before reaching Cannes (at 5.35 pm) I witnessed a glorious sunset beyond a high range of mountains the tops of which were shown up by the setting  sun in all their beauty. It was a glorious sight.
At Cannes our welcome was hearty in the extreme.  We were now in the renowned Riviera and at Cannes we were met by English women.  There were VAD ladies and also English civilians to greet us and right hearty was their welcome.  Outside the station along roads running parallel with the railway crowds of people gathered and cheered lustily when the Marseillaise roused their ardour to a high pitch.  Our entry to the famous Mediterranean pleasure resorts opened very auspiciously at Cannes.
We knew it would be night when we passed the other places so  well known on the Riviera so we all kept awake to see as much of them as possible by artificial light. Here there is no dimming of the lighting of the Mediterranean coast through fear of the enemy.  Another great welcome awaited us at Nice where ladies from the Allied Red Cross meet every troop train by night and day.  They provided us with biscuits, hot tea and cigarettes and spoke to us in our own tongue which, perhaps, was more heartening to us than anything else.  They were some of our own womenfolk for whom we were fighting and who were helping us and cheering us in the dark hour of our nation’s history to the utmost of their power.
At 8 o’clock we were at Monaco with its fairyland bay.  The town is built on the shores and hills surrounding its little bay and at night the illumination of the houses rising tier upon tier above the sea gave the appearance of a place illuminated on a gala night.  Just beyond the station is a wonderful little valley which must look very charming in the daylight.  Right at the bottom, overshadowed by lofty hills on either side and at the back, is a small church all by itself, whilst on the surrounding hillsides are gaily coloured and illuminated houses which, at night time, make the valley look very beautiful with their twinkling lights.  On reaching the eastern side of the little bay we could look back on the town.  And what a sight it was with its lights shining all round the bay.
10 minutes later we were at Monte Carlo where those who were on the lookout could see the huge casino around which so much romance excitement and mystery are woven and where so many lives have been ruined by the call of the gambling devil.  Monte Carlo is a beautiful places as, indeed, are all the Mediterranean resorts.
Mentone was reached at 8.30 where nurses from the neighbouring hospital welcomed us.  These ladies meet every troop train, working in relays day and night, in order to give a parting cheer and wish of ‘good luck’ to English soldiers leaving French soil to pass over the frontier into Italy.  At Mentone we all promised to go sick immediately upon arrival at our destination and to ask to be sent to Mentone to be cared for!
We entered Italy at Ventimiglia at 9.20 pm Monday November 12th, and the first Italian soldiers seen were two Bersagliere with their picturesque headdress.  Our thought were now centred on Italy, what the country would be like, the people, what our welcome would be and all the thoughts which crowd upon the mind when unfamiliar lands are first seen.  By the country we were greatly impressed, its grandeur and beauty being quite equal to that of France though, if anything somewhat grander and more imposing.  Italy’s people were full of hospitality and could not do enough for us.  Their welcome was quite uproarious.  Indeed our first impressions of Italy were very good indeed.
After leaving Ventimiglia the first place we came to was San Remo – very little different from the neighbouring French resorts – which we reached at 10.15 pm”.
Capt. William Norman Town (see 11th November) recalled how the Battalion band had played during the halt at Les Arcs, “Anyhow, the band had practiced in the train and, when the left half Battalion caught up with the right half at Les Arcs, all the Frenchmen in the station were ecstatic at its rendering of the ‘Marseillaise’.  
Maj. Edward Borrow (see 29th October) reported for duty at Northern Command Depot at Ripon and was posted to 71st Training Reserve Battalion.
Pte. Frank Blakeborough (see 26th September), in England having been wounded on 20th September, was discharged from 5th Northern General Hospital in Leicester and posted to Northern Command Depot at Ripon; he would have ten days leave before reporting at Ripon.



Pte. George Carter (see 26th September) was discharged from hospital in Eastleigh and posted to 3DWR at North Shields.
Pte. Sydney Exley (see 11th September), serving with 2nd/6th DWR, was appointed Lance Corporal.
At home in Barnsley, Edith Haywood, wife of L.Cpl. Joseph Henry Haywood (see 4th November) gave birth to the couple’s first child; he would be named Joseph.
A payment of £2 2s. 4d. was authorised, being the amount due in pay and allowances to the late Pte. Henry Marshall (see 12th June), who had been killed in action on 7th June; the payment would go to his father, Samuel. His father would also receive a parcel of his son’s personal effects, comprising, “disc, wallet, photos, cards”.




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