Sunday, Jan. 3, 1915
Wedhampton Cottage, Devizes.
As you see from the address we are at last in shelter out of the mud. We moved form camp on Wednesday afternoon into billets here in Wedhampton. It is just on the edge of Salisbury Plain and north of our camp ground West Down North.
On Tuesday a part of our officers, including myself and the Sergeant Major, rode hard leaving camp at 11.30 until we reached Patney. Here we stabled and fed the horses and had a lunch of bread, cheese, jam and beer. We then visited the billets by motor, a police constable accompanying us and he carried the list. I joined the Sgt. Major at Patney at 3.30 and we went to Wedhampton and sized up the situation. W then fed the horses at the Bell Inn just outside the village, had supper and made out our billet lists. We left at 7.45 in a terrible storm and reached camp after a seven mile ride of two hours duration wet through.
Next morning, Thursday Dec. 31st, we left camp with the guns piled high with kit, stoves, blankets etc. at a about 1.15 and marched to Wedhampton with our transport wagons, three teams in each following. We arrived at about 3 P.M. and after "parking" the guns on the side of the road, the men and horses went to their billets. There were, both men and horses, in barns and lofts for this night but the men soon found the villagers glad to give them rooms, beds, baths and food.
The officers, Art Ryerson, Jim MacDonell and I are all staying here with Mr. Wilson. He is a typical jovial English gentleman, fond of sport, hunting, shooting, etc. and cant do enough for us. We have bedrooms just like home, and such meals, grouse, pheasant, mince pie and delicious cider and burgundy. He is awfully like father in his love of horses, trees, sport and reading.
Mrs. Wilson is simply fine. I received my Christmas hamper just the night we left camp, and brought it here intact. I asked her permission to bring the things into the house and I tell you we have had a feast on Burghers and Christmas cake today. I sampled the shortcake but we have'nt really come to the rest of the things yet. She says she will have the pudding any day I say.
Betty is about sixteen, and splendid too. She rides quite a lot and can cook too. I could write volumes about our present home and guests. The cottage is thatched and just like home inside with beautiful old furniture, silver and pictures. We are lucky. Well there is no more news or rather I have'nt enough paper to tell you all I could write.
