war.
The whole thing is so "class" and full of "form" and tradition and
worrying over "putties" and etiquette and rank. It is the most
wonderful organization I ever imagined but it is like a beautiful
locomotive without an engineer.

The Boers outplay them in intelligence every day. The whole army is
officered by one class and that the dull one. It is like the House of
Peers. You would not believe the mistakes they make, the awful way in
which they sacrifice the lives of officers and men. And they let the
Boers escape. I watched the Boers for four hours the other day
escaping after the battle of Pieters and I asked, not because I wanted
them captured but just as a military proposition "Why don't you send
out your cavalry and light artillery and take those wagons?" The staff
officer giggled and said "They might kill us." I don't know what he
meant; neither did he. However, I'm sick of it but there's nothing
else to talk of. I hate all the people about me and this dirty town
and I wish I was back. And I'm going too. I'll have started by the
time you get this.

I mean to cut out of this soon but don't imagine I'm in any danger.
I'm taking d---d good care to keep out of danger. No one is more
determined on that than I am. Dear Mother, this is such a dull letter
but you must forgive me. I was never so homesick and bored in my life.
It will be better when I go out tomorrow in my green tent and leave
this beastly hole. I like the tent life, and the horses and being
clean. I've really starved here for four days and haven't had a clean
thing on me. God bless you all and dear Nora God bless her and Chas
and the Lone Fisherman.

DICK.

Outside Ladysmith.

5th March, 1900.

DEAREST MOTHER:

I was a brute to write as I did last night. But I was so blue in that
miserable town!!! It was so foul and dirty. The town smelt as bad as
Johnstown. My room in the so called hotel stunk, the dirt was all over
the floor and the servants had to be paid to do everything even to
bring you a towel--and then I had no place to write or be alone, and
nothing to eat-- The poor souls at my table who had been in the siege,
when they got a little bit of sugar or a can of condensed milk would
carry it off from the table as though it were a diamond diadem-- I did
the same thing myself for I couldn't eat what they gave me and so I
corrupted the canteen dealer and bought tin things-- I've really never
wanted tobacco so much a