Letters home from A. W. Woods
Last month I did a blog series on Saint Margaret’s and the Great War, which featured several posts on the parish’s founding rector, A. W. Woods. I also preached a sermon on Woods at the evening service on the Feast of Saint Margaret, November 15.
Yesterday I received in the post a book I had ordered when I was doing my research for that series, “My Grandfather’s War” edited by William D. Mathieson, and it contains some extracts from letters written by A. W. Woods to his teenage daughter Winnifred, whom he addresses as “My Dear Little Gopher.” Here is a selection from the letters:
13th October 1915
How I would like to have Tommy in my room for a couple of nights to frighten the rats and mice away. They run all over me at night and sometimes I feel them crawling about under my pillow. I pound it with my head and all is quiet for a few minutes until they renew their courage and come back.
This morning I put my hand into my haversack and out jumped a mouse. One of the men got bitten by a rat and the poor fellow’s arm swelled up - it was very painful for some days. So Tommy would have the time of his life if he were here. He looks so comfortable and contented with himself in the photo.
18th January 1916
The first instalment of the mince pies arrived today and after having sampled them in a very generous manner in such a comfortable humour, I must write to thank you for them. They are really lovely and dear girlie, the socks are here too. Thank you. You made a very great success of them and they fit beautifully.
Two boxes arrived Sunday - one from Aunt Patsie and one from 106 with the lovely cake. I have enough good things on hand now to treat a number of the boys.
I have the wishbones you sent, and the holly and mistletoe hanging where I can see them - but no girl to kiss, and I don’t know of any substitute.
8th August 1916
Darling I am afraid I shall be away another winter unless I run away, which will be a sore temptation. It is a very long from Tipperary yet, and a rough one too - but it is a long road that does not end up somewhere.
Three years is about all that I feel I can stand of continuous war. Very few of the old boys are at the front now. What are left are in England or Canada. But I would rather be here than in England. No one relishes another winter’s campaign.
9th February 1917
Although there is great deal of hate and misery in the world, there is also a great deal of love and good fellowship. It would be intolerable if it were not so.
I often ask the question, is it possible for war to become a normal condition. One cannot imagine it and yet one can get used to almost anything and even find pleasure in things that are utterly abhorrent.
5th January 1918
Sweet heart you may write D.S.O. after my name now if you wish. The first Padre in the Canadian Corps. Why, I cannot understand. Four of my men got the M.C. after the Passchendaele scrapping, the highest record for any one Division. I feel very proud of my boys.
13th February 1918
Your two letters, one written on Xmas evening and one on January 4th, reached me yesterday. It was a feast after a prolonged famine of three weeks without Canadian mail. So you can imagine what it was like - with yours came a big bunch from friends with congratulations.
One is inclined to feel very important, but the swelling has gone down dear - things are quite normal again. Tomorrow I leave for England and have written my friend George V to that effect so he will have the medal ready for the investiture.
-GM