BX October 26, 1915
P.S. – Send More Socks – Appeal Made by Brantford Lad Who Wants News From “Home”
Mrs. John Whiting has received the following letter from her son Mathew Whiting of the 13th Battery, Second Contingent now in Belgium
October 3, 1915
Dear Mother,
Well dear, you will think I have forgotten everybody in Canada. Not yet. We are all very comfortable at present in a new land “somewhere in Belgium.” I hope you got the cards Scotty and I sent you, especially the one with the seven different flags ALL FOR THE RIGHT. The climate is practically the same as in Canada, getting cold at night. I have received their letters, also the Brantford papers. I am glad to hear from my home town. I received your parcels mother. Macdonald’s tobacco is a treat.
We are very busy and expect to be until this war is over. We all hope to return to Canada. You no doubt hear more about the war than we do. We hear enough. We have not much time for writing. Tell all my friends to write for I sure enjoy the letters from home. Well dear, in regard to myself I am well, hoping you are the same. Love to all once more.
Mat.
P.S. Send more socks
BX January 15, 1916
Cheerfulness and Confidence – Shown in Letter From Mat Whiting, New in the Trenches
That life in the trenches has its bright side, as well as gloomy, is evidenced by a letter received recently by Mrs. Whiting, from her son Matthew Whiting, who is now in the trenches. His letter, dated Christmas Day, is full of cheerfulness and confidence in the ultimate outcome of the war, and proves that even at the front Christmas is not altogether a meaningless word. The letter reads as follows:
December 25, 1915
Somewhere in Belgium
Dear Mother and All
This is Christmas night; I have just finished supper and am taking time to write you. I suppose while I am writing this you are enjoying your dinner. You no doubt will be anxious to know how we spent the day. Reveille at 6.30; we did our usual work, and then got in shape for breakfast. First, oatmeal, with real milk; it sure tasted good, bacon, cakes – good enough for any man. Dinner – roast beef, potatoes, carrots, tomato sauce, plum pudding, chocolate cake (my favorite), candy, oranges, cigars, cigarettes; to finish it off a drink of rum. Supper – Bread and butter, dates, macaroni and cheese, tea. So you see we were well fed; no kick coming. We are going to a concert at 7.30 instead of going to Langford Christmas tree. Our captain said today at noon he hoped we would all eat our next Christmas dinner in our own homes. We will see the job finished – let it be one year or more. A week ago tonight there was something doing (very different from tonight). The Germans made an attack about 5 o’clock; it lasted until 12. Some fighting while it lasted. The earth fairly shook. They tried gas on us, but the wind was against them, and it proved a failure. Our artillery was too much for theirs.
We even had old Santa here last night. Each one received a stocking filled with useful articles. I received your parcels; many thanks. The Christmas cake was a treat. It is some question to handle the Christmas mail; you have no idea – so many friends and all so kind, sending something to make us more comfortable. Well, mother, dear, this probably will be my last letter for this year, and long before you get it the new year will be started. Cheer up. The war will be over some day. We are in the right and bound to win. I am well, getting fat, so you see this mud must agree with me. Remember me to all the friends. Wishing you all a Happy New Year.
Your loving son,
Mat Whiting
