Lt Burnard, Royal Flying Corps WW1 diary
OTD 1918. Airman on Western Front with 35 Squadron, then prisoner of war. Ex-army #Somme #Passchendaele.
Wednesday. August 7th. Wrote home interesting facts [code] as to the abundance of food. The varicose vein seems to be diminishing in size, happily.
We seem to be coming in lately for a large amount of vegetable soups; fresh vegetables, chiefly turnips and mangels; my particular abomination of course. It is usually nick-named Fresh Fruit – amongst us. Nowadays I only visit the dining hall for barley, semolina, and potatoes.
Tuesday. August 6th. Both yesterday and today got bread parcels from Copenhagen readdressed from Hannover. Dad or the R.A.F. must be responsible, for I only wrote them since being here.
Monday. August 5th. Seemed to have started a varicose vein in the stomach. Hope it’s not going to do anything serious. Still, it’s not particularly painful. What a Bank Holiday!!
Saturday. August 3. First day of the advanced French class. Our instructor, or teacher rather, a Second Lieut. named Ardagh, is an M.A. of England and France, and speaks English, French, German and Italian fluently. He was born in France and invariably thinks in French. A first class man for the job. Gave us a dictation today, in which I was top with 4 mistakes, but some others had as many as 27. I foresee some weeding out. The rest of the day was chiefly remarkable for an omelette!! made from Cooks Farm Eggs and Golden Syrup.
I think I must have dropped in weight from nearly 13 stone to less than 10, but I’m getter fitter rapidly now. Similarly, with our increased grub, we become more civilised again. We have indulged in a small china cruet, more plates. We put the jam on our plates, and don’t dip out of the pots. No question about it, hunger drives man down to the level of beasts. Wait till I tell you about Rastatt.
Friday. August 2. Red letter day. Got my first letter from Dad, full of news. Bucked me up no end; a letter sent to Karlsruhe. Miller got his first parcel from Scottish Rifles Fund. It will be jolly convenient if he gets all his from them as it will give us such variety, mine being R.A.F.
Thursday. August 1st. Played and lost one of the keenest games of chess I’ve ever had, against one Haddon. Lasted 2¾ hours. Adjourned twice. Thought the position each time was worth recording. I played black.
Wednesday. July 31st. Got an R.A.F. parcel yesterday, one today, and hear that I’m getting two tomorrow. So now it seems as though I’m fairly embarked on calm weather as regards food parcels – and even should mine slacken off somewhat, Miller’s should be arriving very shortly. Only clothes worry me now. I’ll make no further mention of the arrival of food parcels, as I keep a special note of them, and of letters, in another book. The R.A.F. application for our removal to a special R.A.F. camp has been officially rejected; and I must say I’m jolly glad. In no other camp would I get the fine opportunities for learning Spanish and French, and for chess as well, which I find here.
Sunday. July. 28th. Wrote home pointing out the necessity of careful packing, and the unlikelihood of leaving here anyways.
Friday. July 26th. Nothing worth mentioning except a midday meal, a most glorious hash of my composition. Recipe:- 1 tin bully beef. 1 cooked big onion, 2 whipped up eggs (from Cooks Farm eggs), 2 French biscuits ground up, a little black bread, all minced together and heated in a slow oven for two hours. Ambrosia!
Thursday. July 25th. Hurrah! This is quite a red letter day. Miller and I had for breakfast tea with milk and sugar in it; with bacon and eggs, thanks to Cooks Farm Eggs. Jolly fine! And to cap it, I got a letter from the Kid, dated June 22nd, directed to Landshut. She started at Alton on July 8th at just twice the money I started on. Good luck, Kid! There was no other news in it. All the news I’m waiting for must be wandering round the country. Still it’s fine to know that everyone is well.