On 8 December, he received a telegram (dated 30 November) notifying him that his sister had died after a short illness. He spent a miserable and depressing Christmas Day holed up in his post, little more than "a shell hole converted into a bit of a trench" on the edge of No Man's Land.

Letter to his parents, 7 January 1918
"I thought it was going to be quite decent on Xmas Day, but unfortunately a sad thing occurred: about 1 a.m. Captain Brownsword came round visiting. He bent down to drop in on my post. I said, 'Hurry up, get down quick!' but unfortunately he was not quick enough; there was a crack & I knew he was hit in the back, & he just toppled down and I caught him with my arms. 

Then the difficulty, imagine it, of looking after a man 6 foot 3, in a bit of trench half the width of your kitchen, and no longer; partly filled too with a fire step. I had to sit on the step, and hold him across my knees, while the stretcher bearer dressed him. Our stretcher was broken, & with difficulty we got another, one bearer being shot through the head bringing it..."

When daylight came we put out the Red Cross Flag (a mutual arrangement of that part of the front) & four men having been told off for the work, we hoisted the stretcher out of the hole & got him safely away. I heard afterwards that they carried him miles without incident, but only to have him die from exhaustion within sight of the dressing station."