Book Description
The letters of Captain Hugh Wallace Mann and Jessie Reid, safe-guarded in a small leather case until her death in 1976, form the basis of Under the Shadow. The early letters reflect a lively young Scottish couple whose love is never in doubt while at the same time providing a glimpse into middle-class life in Scotland before the onset of the First World War. The letters continue to flow for the first three years of the war when Hugh serves with the 7th Battalion of the Queen's Own Cameron Highlanders at Loos and later with the 5th Battalion at Arras and Passchendaele. Despite the brutality and loss of life at the Western Front, the welfare of the men in his charge is foremost in Hugh's mind. While Hugh longed for that 'blighty' which would send him home to his beloved Jessie, only once, following over six months fighting at Arras, does he claim to be depressed. Jessie's last letters to Hugh, returned to her after his death, and Jessie's letters to her parents from Hugh's death-bed in a military hospital in Normandy place a poignant seal to their tragic but noble story.
Excerpted from Under the Shadow: Letters of Love and War 1911-1917 by Brid Hetherington, Captain Hugh Wallace Mann and Jessie Reid. Copyright © 1999. Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved
Hugh's letter following the Battle of Loos
France 29th September 1915
Dearest Jess
Here I am, but I don't quite know how. All I got was a bullet thro' my sleeve and a bit of shrapnel ripping my hose-top. Our battalion had a terrible smashing-up - 75% casualties. Shall I tell you the story? It's a good one and I expect you'll see it in the paper some day - the charge of the 44th Brigade.
We formed up in our own trenches the day before while a most terrific bombardment went on. At day-break we went over the parapet and at once men dropped. We got over the German line, but were held up 10 minutes at the barbed wire in front of Loos. We got it cut and went thro' into the town. What scenes! We were under heavy machine gunfire from the houses and each house had to be bombed. Then as we pushed them back, they came tumbling out with their hands up shouting "Camarade, friend". We rounded them up and sent an escort back with them and pushed on up Hill 70. We got to the top and away beyond, but our left flank had not come up, and so we had to fall back. The fire here was terrific and our own shrapnel was giving us fits. We took up position on the near crest of the hill and entrenched, or tried to, there, and at this spot we hung on till we were relieved at eleven that night. I never knew before what absolute physical exhaustion was. To add to our joy the rain was in torrents. Altogether hell can hold no hotter corner. For hours we held that damned line against constant counter attack, and ceaseless enfilade fire, and always one was waiting one's turn to be hit. It was horrible. Well, we came back and are now down a bit, and likely to go further for a rest. I have lost nearly all my friends. I am the only sergeant left in D Coy, and the Coy numbers only fifty-four. But the Germans won't forget the 44th Brigade. The Brigadier was seen in the base village with the tears running down his cheeks saying, "Glorious 44".
I will write more later dear. I'm responsible for the Coy just now, and also the fight has left its mark on me. Love to all, Hugh