"It's simple really," said Bob, smugly. "Your man Hesketh was right about it being shorthand. It's just the words back to front .. no great code mystery. The good lady used to teach pitman, only took her a few moments to work out what was going on."

I expressed my undying gratitude and promised Bob a bottle of Johnny Walker for Christmas.

"Hold on son," he replied. "If we've translated this right - and I reckon we have - this guy Morgan was up to his neck in some very dodgy goings-on. It doesn't make a great deal of sense to me but you probably know the whole story. I'll send you on the transcription."

Account based on details from the Tom Morgan papers (unpublished).

By early September, the 7th Mudshires had received two drafts of replacements. They weren't from Mudcaster, in fact they weren't even from the same county.

What had been a predominantly local unit, now boasted Glaswegians, Cockneys and Brummigham boys in the ranks.

There was even a whole platoon's worth who had been sent out from the Shropshire's Depot, and it turned out that a similar number of newly-trained, home grown Muddies had ended up with SLI. Such was the pattern in the British army by the autumn of 1917.

Company by company, the old hands had done their bit in the line. Having taken a pasting on August 16 at Langemarck, the battalion was confined to line holding duties in the quieter sectors of the salient.

Yet, even when they were on duties in the communication lines as carriers or road menders, the trickle of casualties dripped on. Atrocious weather had reduced large parts of the salient to a swamp. Men contracted fevers and chest infections were widespread, many of the soldiers reckoned the gas attacks carried out on a widespread basis by either side were causing long term health damage.

In fact, some doctors would make the claim that the plague like Spanish flu which swept around the world just after the war had ended could be traced back to obscene origins on the western front.

For Willie McCallion and his chums, now lumped together in a composite platoon, there was another cross to bear in addition to the shells, slime and sordidness.

Newly promoted Captain Hartley MC was becoming what some would later term 'an insufferable martinet'. Dai Macallister had another term for the intolerant company commander. The Welshman pronounced for all who wished to hear that Hartley was, and I quote, 'going f..king loony.'