Beatson James - Private Beatsons war : life, death and hope on the Western Front : a diary of the Great War

Contents

James Beatson (right) with his mother Elizabeth, brother Donald and sister Isabella; in all James had eight brothers and sisters.

We were relieved last night, dragged ourselves for eight miles to the little wooden hut at Vlamertinghe. The Belgian village of Vlamertinghe after heavy shelling.

A party of us went digging trenches today. 2nd Royal Scots Fusiliers digging trenches north of the Menin Road, October 1914.

The roads are lined with tall trees. Dispatch riders on a typical tree-lined road near Dickebusch, 1914.

The streets are lined with the kind of building that is met throughout France cafs with seats in front. An old French lady serving coffee to British troops relaxing near Armentires, in 1916.

Nobody could be anything else but happy. 51st Highlanders.

A letter to Carrie and a note to her Dad ran me into nine pages, which relieved my mind a great deal.

The blankets havent been given us, so we retire thusly socks on, kilt loosened, jacket buttoned only at the waist, greatcoat turned upside down and legs slid into the sleeves. This leaves you to curl up and chew the mud off the foot of the coat.

Our dug-out, that is Watson and I, was only about 3ft high. Casino, a support line dug-out in the Bois Grenier sector.

Shifted again last night back to our old dug-outs in the Sanctuary Wood. A communication trench linking the front line (fire trench) and reserve trenches, Sanctuary Wood, June 1915.

French soldiers are resting and very interesting to talk to although laborious. Soldiers from the French 7th Infantry.

Beatsons father John, in Royal Scots Pipe-Majors uniform.

She is an exceptional specimen of the refugee species in this village. A Belgian soldier looking after refugees.

Today Ive spent cleaning myself; just had a shave and a wash-up, cleaned my rifle and bayonet. Men of the 9th Royal Scots shaving, or at least pretending to shave, with bayonets.

The fumes are horrible and hang in the air for a long time. The primitive but quite effective form of protection against gas worn by Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders in this May 1916 photograph was soon replaced by a more sophisticated gas mask with a variety of filters.

I was called out again last night to guide a stretcher party to the dressing station. The 18th Field Ambulance dressing station at Vlamertinghe, June 1915.

Things have been quiet as far as big fighting goes but there is a steady dribble of casualties. No. 10 casualty clearing station at LAbeele.

I saw the wounded on all sides. I did what little I could but it is heart-rending to hear the fellows asking for help and see the dead lying so very still. British doctor and padre attending to wounded British and German soldiers.