Pte Ralph Eastaff, Royal Army Medical Corps, now with the Indian Expeditionary Force, wrote to his mother Sarah at Collinwood, 47 Reginald Street, Luton, about his journey out East from Aldershot.

His first letter was written from Aldershot on February 2nd, 1916. In it he wrote: "I am still kicking my heels at Aldershot, wearying to get away. Strange to say, this very afternoon I was called out as one of the advance party of the 32nd Hospital and received orders to hold myself in readiness for departure at any time. I am feeling very glad at the prospect of getting away from Aldershot, and especially pleased because we almost certainly going to Alexandria, the place of all the world I would have chosen.

His next letter came from Alexandria on February 18th. In this he wrote: "The first 4,000 miles of my long journey is past safely. We have been anchored in the harbour here for about four days now, and I expect we shall get orders to go still father afield some time next week. Up to the present we have had a real picnic in glorious weather. There is plenty of excellent food, we have swinging cots and soft beds, little to do except wash, exercise and attend lectures and moonlight concerts on deck."

Pte Eastaff (pictured right) wrote that on the way to Alexandria they had passed Gibraltar on one evening and spent a day in Malta, after which they spent a night in a glorious tropical thunderstorm. He had also suffered four days of sea-sickness during the journey.

In a letter dated April 19th, he wrote: "At last I have come to the end of my journeyings for a while, and am now waiting to begin my nursing duties once again. I am about 7,000 miles from home, having travelled from Egypt just about as far as Egypt is from England.

"Part of the journey was made in a large hospital ship, from which we were transferred to a smaller transport. This brought us within three miles of the place where I am writing. We were half punted and half blown here along the creeks, through a great forest of date palms in a funny native boat.

Pte Eastaff went on to described his new surroundings. "We have transformed the shed of an old liquorice factory into hospital wards and you may guess we have had a busy time. Here we are scorched. Of course we wear sun helmets and very little clothing, but the sun is so hot that the leather of one's boots seems almost red hot - this, too, at the beginning of the hot weather.

"However, I am standing it well, and have never had even a headache. Our chief trouble is to get water fit for use. There are streams of water all around the clearing in which the hospital stands - so much, indeed, that yesterday we were all call out suddenly to build banks to keep the rising water of the river from flooding the camp.

"Yet the water is so impure that we are not allowed even to swim in it, and on no account must we drink any which has not been boiled. Oh, for a drink of the pure cold water of the Chilterns! Never mind, we get plenty of tea, so do not suffer too much from real thirst.

"Our food is quite decent, but there is, as usual, hardly enough to satisfy the vigorous appetite of a Tommy, and I spend most of my pay in supplementing my rations."

He next wrote of a feeling of being isolated. "We are in the midst of a great swamp forest, and can see nothing but the fringe of dark palms and the life which enters our clearing from the outside world by means of the creeks and pathways.

"As to the war, I am sure we know far less about it than you do at home. Of course we see the moving of men and hear constant rumours that certain events have taken place, but as to reliable information we have absolutely none.

"The woods are very beautiful just now. The date palms are in blossom, and there are many other flowers to be seen, oleanders and pomegranates being especially lovely. Many strange birds - hawks, wild geese etc - are constantly on the wing, whilst the little brown sparrow is always present to remind us of home.

"Lizards, tortoises and various insects sport themselves in the sunlight, and at night the dreaded mosquitoes flit about, the bull-frogs hold their noisy concerts and the jackals prowl. All in very interesting and, in the glow of full health, I am enjoying it immensely. If it were not for the awful occasion which has brought us here, I should be perfectly happy.

"We are sleeping in tents and are quite comfortable. Yesterday we were supplied with mosquito curtains, and last night I slept under mine for the first time. It is frightfully difficult to keep clean. Our bathing is a comical performance. We just strip and then throw buckets of water over each other. We get some good fun out of it and manage to keep tolerably fresh."

His letter concluded: "I have just been interrupted by the arrival of the first two patients of our hospital - in with fever of some kind, I think. So now we start business. I am very glad as I have begun to get a wee bit sick of just moving about from place to place and apparently wasting time. Now for some useful work for a short time, and then - before long I think - home again."

[The Luton News: Thursday, August 3rd, 1916.]