Wartime letters home reveal tales of growing beards and eating crocodiles

These were passed round towns and villages where they were eagerly read by folk who knew the men well.

Their messages were more personal than newspaper reports. Sergeant Jack Battle of the Yorkshire Regiment wrote to Harry Tomkin and other colleagues at Shildon Wagon Works, where he served in the offices before being called up as a reservist.

After describing a long march in which each soldier carried heavy kit and 100 rounds of ammunition in the blistering South African sun he said: "We made sure there was going to be a fight, and were all elated at the prospect of having a pop at the Boers."

They had to lie down as they neared the enemy lines, with shells zooming over them.

The men had every confidence in General Buller, he added, as he knew full well the need to bring about the relief of Ladysmith.

This town, which had been cut off by Boers, was relieved soon after the letter was sent.

It arrived just as Alf Charlton was leaving the works to serve in the war. He was presented with a pipe, tobacco and some money.

Private James Atkinson. who lived in Bowes before joining the Coldstream Guards, wrote to his father George, who had moved to Bishop Auckland, saying his unit was heading for a big battle with the Boers, adding: "There is supposed to be about 22,000 of them so we should shift a few of them if we get at them with the bayonet as we did at Belmont.

"The Boers are a lot of heartless cowards. They hide and pour severe volleys on us, and when we charge them with the bayonet they scatter like rabbits."

Several soldiers spoke of the intense heat, followed by downpours. Their clothing was often soaked, but it soon dried.

Corporal A. Ward, another Coldstream Guardsman, wrote telling his mother at Crakehall that he was with a sergeant and corporal when both were shot dead in a charge by the Boers.

He was left on his own and gave himself up for dead. But he prayed, then got up and ran about a mile, with hundreds of bullets flying past his head.

His prayer was answered as he reached his company without suffering even a scratch.

Lance Corporal George Parker of the Yorkshire Regiment wrote home saying several men in his unit had been killed.

He and other troops never took their clothes off night or day, and were having to grow beards as they could not shave.

He reported that a lot of men in the Suffolk Regiment had been killed near him, but he did not think their general could be blamed.

Driver John Pullan of the Special Ammunition Column told in his letter how two drivers in front of him were shot dead, leaving him the only one left in a gun team.

He felt that once the Boers suffered one or two defeats they would give in. Other men were still being sent from Weardale, Teesdale and Swaledale to join the war.

But when 22 riflemen volunteered at Stanhope only one, Frank Lodge, was accepted. The others must have been too young, too old or unfit.

The war went on until May 1902. Around 22,000 British and Allied soldiers died, either in battle of from disease.

The Boers lost a much higher total, including women and children. A memorial in Durham Cathedral lists 153 men from the county who died.

The majority were in the DLI. A memorial in Galgate, Barnard Castle -- a boulder on top of a stone plinth -- honours 29 Teesdale men who gave their lives. A plaque on it pays tribute to those killed in later wars.

Corporal Jack Kelley had a different type of hazard to describe when he was serving with the 32nd Light Infantry in Sudan in 1885.

He told about it in a letter to his brother in Barnard Castle.

"Crocodiles are very abundant here," he reported.

He went on to state how one was killed: "Lord Avonmore, who is on the staff, shot one today. It is over 12 feet long and the natives made for its flesh as they say it is good to eat."

He complains that his regiment hasn't been able to get a shot at the Mahdi opposition, and that the Camel Corps may have got to Khartoum.

But his family and neighbours who read his letter were probably more impressed by the idea of troops going out on patrol and having to be wary of hungry crocodiles lurking around riverbanks.

Conditions were often grim in lodging houses attached to lead mines in Weardale, Teesdale and Swaledale.

Men who stayed during the week in those places, known as mineshops, usually had to squeeze into uncomfortable bunk beds, sometimes three at a time lying on skimpy mattresses meant for only one.

But the men in charge of the buildings could make things better if they really tried. At each mine this person was called the king because his role was so important -- and acknowledged as the best of all was William Bainbridge.

He was in charge of the mineshop at Coldberry in Upper Teesdale for more than a decade, and was one king who was held in high regard by everyone.

He had worked underground for years so he knew what was required by men coming in dirty, hungry and cold after a long shift.

Their first need was lots of hot water to wash themselves, and he ensured there was enough for everyone. At some mines there was only cold running water from a nearby stream.

He also kept himself busy tidying up the bunk beds, repairing or replacing the mattresses and blankets, and washing so many every week.

He swept out the main rooms every day, washed down the tables, and had everything spic and span as the weary miners trundled in.

He gave the place a homely feel, whereas some mineshops were bleak buildings that were given poor reports by government inspectors.

He was so good at it that the Coldberry men and boys had a whip round to present him with a clock on an engraved marble stand.

He was believed to be the one and only king to be thanked in this way in all the mines in the dales.

As well as caring for the building he was entrusted by the management with the distribution of explosives, candles and tools which the men needed for their dangerous, health-sapping hours of toil underground.

The admirable Bainbridge, who lived in Lunedale, was honoured in this way in 1890. It was stated that everyone employed at Coldberry, from the youngest washer boy to the most experienced miners, mechanics and managers, chipped in to pay for the gift.

The men were from both Teesdale and Weardale. Veterans who had worked at a number of mines said they had known many mineshop managers but never one so obliging, helpful, amiable and reliable as this fine man.

Bainbridge said he had worked in the mines for 35 years so he knew what was needed to make the men as comfortable as possible.

He was pleased that he had made their workng lives a little easier. At that they all sang For He's a Jolly Good Fellow -- and they meant it.

How does anyone know the logs they buy, or cut for themselves, will keep their house well heated in the winter?

Some dale families used to swear by a poem written by an anonymous countryman, giving guidance on how to choose one type of timber over another.

One veteran has recalled having a handwritten copy of it pinned up beside his fireplace as a boy.

It starts by claiming that beech log fires are bright and clear if the logs are kept at least a year. But chestnut is only good if laid away for a long spell.

And elder should not be used otherwise there will be a death in the house.

The ode goes on: But ash new or ash old/Is fit for queen with crown of gold/Birch and fir logs burn too fast/Burn up bright but do not last.

Hawthorn is recommended for making the sweetest bread, but elm is dismissed for being like churchyard mould, with even its very flakes being cold. Other trees are summed up thus: Poplar gives a bitter smoke/Fills your eyes and makes you choke/Applewood will scent your room/With an incense-like perfume.

Oak logs are said to be fine for keeping away the winter cold, but only if they are dry and old.

However ash seems to be the all round favourite of the unknown versifier.

Following the remark about it being fit for a queen there are two further plugs for it: But ash green or ash brown/is fit for queen with golden crown.

This is followed by another royal tribute: But ash green or ash dry/A king shall warm his slippers by. It may be worth bearing all this in mind when ordering the next winter supply.