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[Page 23]
has enlisted, is found a large yellow card, which attracted our attention. It read – This house has sent a man to fight for king and country. Isn't this truly English?
Well, we spent a number of such afternoons and days. Moreton near-by, is a charming spot, the holding of Squire Frampton. The church chapel, a small but exquisite one, dates to Charles I. The evidence of this familie's open heartedness towards the peasant population, is everywhere apparent. They must be a fine old family. It appears that the Squire of the district owns all the land & dwellings, which are only rented to the rustics. From this rent and a toll system on the roads, he derives his income. A true relic of the feudal System of the old Saxons.
Wool, Poole, Wareham & Dorchester we visited. But these are more or less modernised by the Railway. Dorchester is charming, and well worth a more lengthy visit than a single Sunday afternoon. There is a large German concentration camp here, and a charming stream wends its way through the town. The White hart Inn, has a large statue of a white deer in front of it, quite an acquisition to an inn front. It stands back from the road, with a cobbled platz in front, and I could just picture Mr Pickwick taking the foaming tankard from the inn maid, while the old legginged groom wiped down the foaming horses. Its funny how you picture things, and how certain places appeal to you almost as tho' they were known to you from old acquaintance. I'm always getting impressions thus. How wrong they are I have not the fortune to know. So I don't grieve, I just like to associate them with some abstract impression stowed away in my cerebellum, derived from some scanty reading.
On October 16th I got a dreadful shock from a telegram sent from Bhurtpore Headquarters, stating that dear old Alan "Died of wounds at 21st S. Mid., Casualty Clearing Station, Warloy France, on 14th August". So the 13th boys were right. No doubt it was just