As a continuation of our post on the Battle of Mametz Wood and its connection to Kidwelly…”
In July 1917, from his hospital bed, David Morris Davies wrote a heartfelt letter to his parents—a letter that would be printed in The Welshman on Friday, 3rd August 1917. Just four days later, on 7th August, David succumbed to his wounds at the Royal Victoria Military Hospital in Hampshire. His letter offers a poignant glimpse into the daily life of a British soldier—the routines, the dangers of no man’s land, and the quiet heroism performed without fanfare. In his closing words, he urged his parents “not to worry,” leaving us to wonder whether he knew, even then, the gravity of his condition.
The letter…
“We were in Ypres, and as you know, there was some heavy fighting round there. We had been out of action for a few days—what I mean to say is, we were not holding the front line.
But at night they used to send out parties to ‘No Man’s Land’ to dig new advance trenches. They sent me in charge of a party. It was some sport—although dangerous—to dig a new trench right under the enemy’s nose, and yet they didn’t see us.
Well, we worked at it for about six nights, and by then the trench was deep enough and quite safe. On the night of the 21st June we started out again, but had not gone far before they started shelling us, killing three out of the nine in my little group and wounding six.
We finished the job, attended to the wounded, and carried them back. Then out we went again. This time we had better luck for a bit. We laid there for some hours, when suddenly—bang, bang—went a couple of bombs, dropped amongst us. Frightened us a bit, I must tell you—but we soon got over it.
But another surprise was in store for us. To our horror, we found ourselves surrounded by the enemy. But they were not going to have us cheap! We made a fight of it, and the result was that we drove them off.
I thought it was all up with us then—but thank God, we came out of it. It was now daylight, and we started back. We had to go over miles of country and had got nearly home when they started shelling again. I thought it was all up with us once more—but on we went until we came to the wood where we had breakfast and turned in to have a sleep.
Then that wood was shelled something awful.
All was quiet until about 12 o’clock. I got out, but before long I was hit—and my head seemed to be going round and round, as if it was coming right off.
I shall never forget the hours I lay there. If anybody ever nearly died, I did. It was the worst feeling I ever had.
I am wounded in the ear, and I also have a compound fracture of the leg. It is a bit painful, but please, dear parents, don’t worry as things could worse.”