Courageous letters of doomed youth go up for auction
Letters written 100 years ago by a teenage soldier to his young sister back home in Cardiff, in which he carefully protects her from the horror of the front line, have provided a poignant glimpse into the life of a south Wales family living in the shadow
LETTERS written by a 19-yearold soldier from Wales have revealed fascinating details about what it was like to serve on the front line in France during World War One.
The work of Second Lieutenant Albert Illtyd Evans, the letters are addressed to the Cardiff teenager’s 14-year-old sister, and were penned during a year of training before he served five months in France.
Tragically, the last was written just three days before he was killed in action.
Covering various topics, the letters are to be sold at auction later this month.
North Somerset auctioneers Clevedon Salerooms say they appear to be written in a way designed to cause his sister no distress – instead, describing his life as an adventure.
The auctioneers said if Albert had fears, his letters never revealed them. And nor did he describe the horrors of the war he may have seen.
The letters were in fact written to make his sister, Ruth, feel that it was she, at home in the suburb of Whitchurch, who was in a more difficult position.
One letter, dated April 12, 1917, ended: “I close with love to all three of you – you who are left at home to do the worrying – a cheerless job! Yours very affectionately, Albert.”
In another letter, Albert, a soldier serving in the 85th Brigade of the Royal Field Artillery, shared his thoughts on the infamous Flanders mud, writing: “...even rain lasting one minute has the effect of turning the whole land into a quagmire – and that’s the trouble – the mud!”
An extract from another detailed an encounter with three German planes attacking the front line.
He described the moment when
the British barrage balloon pilots – “balloonatics” was his affectionate name for them – bailed out of their balloons, wearing parachutes, as the German planes approached.
Albert then described how “two of the new British tri-planes appeared”, before giving details of the aerial combat overhead.
One letter devoted an entire passage to a vivid description of a typical artillery barrage by the British, an example of what he calls “blind shooting”, likening the noise to that of his family dog, Kip. In his example, he said they usually start at 4am when they hear the noise of the artillery. “Like Kip barking right in your ear... The fire at first may be so intense that the series of flashes will merge into one – and all is light... This barrage will last, say, for three minutes when the fire suddenly ceases, another whistle is faintly heard and bang! “They go again – this time perhaps on a different target altogether... There may be six or seven barrage in a stint: the infantry may or may not go over the top.” Another letter thanked his sister Ruth for the cigarettes he received from home and he said he only intended to smoke until his 21st birthday: “Never fear – it will be celebrated in dear old Wales.” Two German prisoners were mentioned in a further letter: “One is short and seems very dejected... The other is a big, brawny, bully beef chap with a British Tommy’s cap on his head. “He evidently knows a lot – for every British officer he sees – he smilingly, and not at all insolently, salutes!”
The final letter to Ruth was written by Albert on August 14, 1917.
In it he spoke of the “battery mascots”, which provided morale to the men and which Albert realised he had not yet mentioned to Ruth in previous letters.
The mascots, it turned out, were two French goats that had been with the brigade for many months and caused amusement to the French as they passed through villages, mainly because the goats travelled on the canvas roof of army wagons. Much to Albert’s amazement, neither goat had ever fallen off.
His final letter home ended: “Well – until next time, heaps of love, Albert.”
Albert Illtyd Evans was killed in action three days later and is buried in the Poperinghe New Military Cemetery, Belgium.
The letters’ owner is a descendant of Albert’s family and wants the memorial plaque and photo to “go to a new home where they will be appreciated, rather than sat in a drawer or buried in an archive”.
The collection is estimated to fetch £200-£300 and can be viewed in person at the salerooms in the days leading up to the auction, which will take place on November 16.
For further information, contact Toby Pinn at Clevedon Salerooms on 01934 830111.