The second army was much bigger so no comment was made about them. The second army marched across France to the front line, with full pack. They became tired and thirsty and so stopped at street pumps for water, only to find that some of the French had chained these pumps so the British army could not get water. They continued tired and thirsty until they reached their camp for the night.

Sometime in 1916 my father was wounded in the leg and after being sent to the field hospital was sent to England to recuperate for a few weeks and then sent back to France. In 1918 he was wounded in the arm and while he was lying semi-conscious in a shell hole with his arm outside it, a stray bullet hit him in the wrist. This time during his recuperation in England the war ended, so he did not go back to France.

At some point during the war, the Germans sent gas over the British lines which badly affected my father's lungs . In later years because of his weakened lungs, he developed pleurisy every winter and pneumonia a few times. The doctor informed my mother that his body was at least 20 years older than his age because of what he went through during the war.

It was then found that his arm, wounded at the elbow, had not been set properly at the field hospital, so the ends of the bones did not join completely. The ends of the bones not joined together began to decay and so he had inflammation and great pain for the rest of his life. The wrist and leg wounds healed completely but bits of shrapnel worked their way out of his leg right up to the year he died.

In 1935 he was sent to Dunston Hill Hospital as it was thought they would find something to relieve the pain and inflammation. My mother visited him there every week. There were many men in the hospital who lived there all their lives as they had no-where else to go. Some had relatives, but because they were badly wounded or shell shocked, the relatives would not have them back. All the men wore blue suits in the hospital. After a few months he returned home but wasn't much better, so he was sent back in l937. Again my mother visited him every week, and on one memorable occasion took we three children with her. I remember the train journey to Newcastle and then a bus from Marlborough Crescent to Whickham. We were made a great fuss of by the men as they rarely saw children. One very cheerful man had had his legs amputated at the knees and he could move faster on his stumps than most of the other men on their feet. He would jump from the floor to his bed and then jump from bed to bed around the ward. He had a wonderful spirit and kept the ward entertained with his antics and jokes. Again my father returned home after a few months but never returned to the hospital because of the Second World War. He died in 1958 aged 64, which was quite a long life considering his health and experiences. He and my mother were married 35 years but she was a widow for 45 years as she lived until she was 101 years old.