Author Ramblings (June 2025)

Mid-January 2025, I was trawling a well-known online auction site for historic letter collections from the World Wars. I had recently bought a couple of small examples as a birthday present to myself, so it was a half-hearted search. However, it’s tough to resist having a peek every now and then just in case something special crops up. That story which might be saved through letters written from the past, unearthing those silent voices, allowing them to be reheard, enabling them to paint a picture, breathing life back into lost memoirs hidden in dark corners. 

It was the 21st of January 2025 when I messaged a seller of a WW1 collection written by Gunner Willie Webber in 1918, already a remarkable story according to the seller in the description, and I wanted them, the trouble was so did everyone else. In a message to Keith Bugden (the seller) I enquired about the collection after submitting an affordable bid, explaining my passion and what would happen if I were fortunate enough to win. I tried my luck asking him if he would consider selling them for my offer; Unfortunately, it was declined in a very polite manner, wishing me good luck, in the hope that I would win the auction. He was after all being fair to the already numerous viewers of such a prized collection, I would have done the same, especially to a stranger. I placed a bigger bid, that was about my limit. We had just had the expense of Christmas and that very long month in January to contend with, bills still had to be paid. I kept checking my bid daily. For a while I thought I may actually be in luck, although in my head I knew the bidding would soon increase, and it did. Disappointed, I had to let them pass me by, but something kept drawing me back to look. I needed to save these letters from the possible vultures, the dealers who buy collections then sell the letters on individually as items for profit, this just could not happen, not on my watch. I ummed and arred on the day the auction was due to end. Could I manage a little more? I looked. I withdrew. I thought. I looked again. So, it went on. The letters were several hundred pounds now. How could I find a way of securing them? Rare collections like these possess you. In a last-ditch attempt, I had made up my mind! I would make a final bid, waiting until the very last moment, 10 seconds in fact! I pitched my final offer, the seconds seemed everlasting. A notification appeared stating “we are confirming the winner”. Holding my breath, had I left it too late? A nail-biting moment. I had been fortunate and won the bidding (perhaps it was a lucky date – the 26th of January 2025, my granddaughter Delilah’s birthday). My heart said yes, my head doh! I need to pay for these! Obviously, I faced the situation and paid, deciding to worry about the consequences later. 

I proceeded to inform a few acquaintances about this incredible collection I had won, or rather had become the current custodian, their support was unanimous, I had done the right thing. Contacting historian and friend Neil Storey, who I knew would be just as excited as me, he immediately started to help with this journey, guiding me to a WW1 forum. A quick search soon followed and blow me down with a feather somebody had already been conducting research on Gunner Willie Webber, his name, Phillip Jones. Faster than a blink of an eye I had joined the forum and sent a question assuming Phillip had been the previous owner of the letters; In the meantime, I received a message from the seller Keith, explaining he was extremely happy that I had in fact won the auction. Several communications later we had connected through email and social media – Keith wanted to follow my progress. Shortly thereafter receiving a reply from Phillip Jones from the Great War forum, no he had never seen the letters, he had been working on something else but was eager to know more and share his knowledge. Another message on the forum began a chat with Paul O’Rorke, who immediately widened my knowledge and excitement. This was going to be great, with a wealth of knowledge already under my belt, everything was moving at such a pace my head was in a fluster, all these wonderful people wanting to help and put Willie Webber’s story together. It was on a Sunday that I had won the auction, by Tuesday, thanks to Neil, Phillip, and Paul, I had a whole wealth of information regarding Willie Webber and his wife Gladys Valentine. As promised, I explained how things were expanding to Keith the seller, explaining how far I had already travelled with this story. By the Wednesday I had notification that the parcel of letters had been delivered to my daughter’s home, literally as I opened the door to collect this prized collection, I received a message from Keith Bugden, it read.

“Hi Andy, I hope you manage to get the parcel safely from your daughter. I’m sure you will have many, many ideas for the book as you start to work on the letters and other information you find about Willie and Gladys. I have been thinking a lot about all this, and I’d like you to give me your PayPal details please as I feel strongly that you should have the letters at no cost. They were given to me, and I am giving them to you. You’re the right man to take Willie and Gladys’s story to the world. When you make your fortune, you can thank me!” Best wishes Keith.

Lost for words, with a tear in my eye, I couldn’t believe what I had just read. I must have read that message half a dozen times before finally accepting it to be true. Even now, months later it still has an overwhelming effect, there are still some good people out there in this uncertain world we live, I tip my hat to them all. Since that day forth Keith has been supporting me throughout with his generosity and hunt for hidden information, dare I say he is as excited as me, as we now travel this journey together. 

With the letters arriving safely, packed in a well wrapped shoe box, still overrun with emotions I was about to handle this treasure trove of historical importance. The contents were over a hundred years old, the majority starting their journey from the muddy fields in France during the First World War, crossing the English Channel, before reaching their final destination in Radnorshire, Wales, to be opened and read for the very first time by a loving wife, desperate to hear of news of a newlywed husband so dear yet so far. In time they would travel again, I do not know where, the letters had been read by someone else before landing into my hands in East Anglia. The evidence was clear, carefully attached to many letters held in place by a rusty paperclip were small notes written with fading ink, noting dates and the occasional snippet of information held within the envelope. The next task, carefully removing the paperclips with gloved hands, unfolding the letters, reorganising into date order, then the element I enjoy the most, reading and transcribing the letters. A task to behold as deciphering faded pencil writing wasn’t going to be easy, but if you could only imagine how this makes my heart skip with excitement with every word I encounter, scribbling notes along the way to be reviewed at a later date. As the author when transcribing letters, occasionally I have felt a presence, I cannot quite put the feeling into words, it is not unnerving but on occasion I have shuddered, felt suddenly chilled to the core. Working with these particular letters, I remember sitting alone in the kitchen one evening, out of the corner of my eye I witnessed a shadow with no form, it passed right though me and was gone, this was not the only time this happened, am I being watched or guided from the afterlife, I like to consider it a helping hand from beyond the grave, I’m not the only author, researcher to have felt this phenomenon while working with historical documents. What happens next; as the letters are transcribed, notes are revisited, learning like an eager pupil studying for their favourite subject, it’s electrifying. 

World War One history is not my strong point, it was a rapid learning curve, with every snippet found, my enjoyment was ten-fold. Tracing this history is limited, unfortunately due to the Second World War and Hitler’s Blitz bombing of London, it is estimated that two thirds of the 6.5 million World War One documents held in the War Office Record Store were destroyed by an incendiary bomb starting a fire that would cause irretrievable damage. The surviving documents known as the “burnt documents” many charred and water damaged have been saved and can be accessed, but only limited information remains, some unit war diary’s, medal and pension cards. Willie’s full service story may never be told in its entirety, however, through these handwritten memoirs, on occasion reading between the lines, one can slowly piece together this heart rendering story, thank you Willie & Gladys, the human race will be forever grateful.

“The pen is mightier than the sword”

Edward Bulwer-Lytton