Part 02: Dene Barrett Fry letters, 17th May 1915-16 April 1917 - Page 137
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[Page 137]
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with wounded, but that is not all. Inside the waiting tent are seats arranged round cheerful fires, and on these sit bundles of living mud. These are the soldiers from the trenches, not our Pit Street soldiers. An AMC chap calls from behind a canvas, from whence various squeaks, & groans denotes a doctor in attendance, & one by one they make their way in, as best they can. "Smith next," and some bundle-of huddled up humanity, more mud than man, lays his shrapnel helmet down in his possy, and rises to his feet, But, in the glow of a warm fire he has forgotten, and with a groan, sinks on his knees. Keeping his feet from the ground he commences to crall. But a bearer soon spots him & carries him in. "Trench feet on the right." An orderly whips a knife in the mud of his puttees & boots slits both to ribbons, & pulls them off.