Bed ridden

I am starting this year’s run of blog posts with some letters Colonel Hubert Morant, commanding officer of 10th battalion, Durham Light Infantry, wrote to his wife from an old chateau in France being used as a training school. On the 27 January 1917, he writes, ‘The cold of this chateau is terrific, in my room everything is frozen, even a shirt I washed and put in the chest of drawers is absolutely stiff’.

D/DLI 7/63/2(103) Drawing of a bed by Reverend JAG Birch, 5th Battalion, Durham Light Infantry

On 5 February 1917, Morant describes how ill he has been: 

‘Ever since I wrote last, on the 3rd I think, I have been ill! After writing to you I took my temperature and found it was nearly 103 degrees, it has been about 102 at night and 100-101 by day since. I have a nasty tight cough, but am getting better now. Everything in the room was frozen of course. My bed was fairly comfortable but hopeless to move about on as it has an enormous chasm in the centre - fairly comfortable when you are there but impossible to get out of except by a great effort. My servant was also sick so I was left pretty well on my own. I have not eaten anything since this started ,I occasionally drink a little tea… The doctor seems of course to have no medicine that is the slightest use, the number of bad coughs about is terrific… Well I’m going on alright but very uncomfortable and look awful not having shaved for three days.’

I have sympathy with Morant as I too have been laid up in bed this week with a very nasty cold, (hence the late posting), but I at least had a warm, and flat, bed.