2. I was eighteen years of age when I received notice of ‘Call Up’ to report to the War
Office in Whitehall at 9am on March 22nd 1918. Attempts by Professor H.M.Turnbull
of the Institute of Pathology, The London Hospital to get me exempted failed, even
though I was employed in aiding the Professor, technically so, in his research upon
the cause of death of many soldiers who had contracted the foul disease whose
salvation treatment was the cause of death.
The very warm and sunny March morning saw me lined up on Horse Guards Parade
together with about one hundred other youths already to entrain to Hounslow
Barracks. Upon arrival there we were immediately interviewed by an Army Officer
seated at a table on the parade ground and after verification of name and age,
forthwith allocated to the Kings Royal Rifle Corps at Sheerness, Isle of Sheppey. The
stay overnight at Hounslow Barracks was uneventful and the following morning saw
us entrained for Sheerness. Upon arrival we were marched to a large hutted
encampment, a common type of foul mouthed Sergeant told us in his language to
wake-up and look sharp, whatever that may have meant and to fill up a palliasse with
straw and collect two sanguinary blankets apiece. We were taken into a hut to house
about twenty of us and helped ourselves to three long planks of wood and two three
feet wide wooden brackets that when positioned formed our bed struts to hold the
straw palliasse. Actually, with seven years camping as a Boy Scout, many weekends
with the Canadian Forestry Corp, sleeping in their pine tree log cabins at the Duchess
of Albany’s Claremont Estate and as a Boy Scout of the Princess Alice’s Own, who
had introduced us to the Canadians, I was completely well aware of Army Camp life,
and did resent the Sergeant’s wake-up advice.
The next visit was to the Quarter Masters store to gather uniforms, and the necessary,
and full equipment, most of which was second-hand, and ill-fitting. Immediately, the
fine weather changed to ice and snow. Greatcoats were worn on route marches.
Lectures in the main hut with Officers explaining our being very fortunate in being
chosen to join the famous regiment whose marching pace was quicker than any other
regiment, and so forth. Although, no doubt, we were considered young, and lacking
in army experience, most of us were intelligent enough to take in all the blarney with
the proverbial grain of salt, and ask no questions. We had only been in that regiment
for about two or three weeks or so when we were lined up one morning, and to be told
to pack up our gear as we were being transferred to the Hertfordshire Yeomanry next
day in Colchester, Essex.
Next morning, and with all our equipment, and thick corned beef sandwiches we
entrained to the ancient town of Colchester, much to our joy, and with thought of
horses, different uniforms and spurs. Arriving in sunny late afternoon at Colchester
station beyond the town, we were welcomed by a smiling well dressed Yeomanry
Officer, and a squad of bandsmen which within a few minutes were playing military
music and leading us joyfully through the town to army barracks a little beyond the
High Street – a vastly different outlook from the dismal KRR atmosphere. It was all
something to look forward to.
!2
3. The empty married quarters of Assuage Barracks were to be our home for some time
which we found much to our liking of three men to a room. Having names verified
we were divided into Companies of the usual A, B and C. It just resulted in the same
members as at Sheerness. Three board beds and straw palliasses were found, and
conveyed to a room for three, which also contained a convenient table. The food was
much better, and collected to be eaten at tables in the rooms. The staff of the
Yeomanry were of an entirely different, and well dressed cavalry style, and very
friendly kind in attitude. Orders were given for us to attend the Company Quarter
Masters Stores to obtain better and new uniforms but no spurs. The winding of
putties was of a different style with tapes wound at the ankles.
The 1st Hertfordshire Yeomanry were still horse mounted in Egypt. We the 2nd/1st
Hertfordshire Yeomanry much to our very disappointment were mounted on strong
BSA bicycles that had to be kept spotlessly clean and fitted to take the Lea Enfield
rifle and for a few with fittings for the Hodghiss light machine gun. The first few
weeks were given over to what was known as square bashing; meaning drills of
exercises which were guaranteed to bring our backs up and general fitness; on top of
which came tuition in rifle knowledge and Mills Grenades and priming, plus use of
the bayonet. Guard duties were not too frequent, I was warned for just three, but did
just one, for it was known that the Orderly Officer picked out the smartest and
cleanest looking one as Colonel’s orderly for the day, which ended in the afternoon. I
just happened to know the tricks used by the Guards concerning smart turn out that
included boot polish lustre and blanco use.
Home leave came after six weeks and for just seven days, I stayed with my sister,
whose young husband of just three years before being killed in the ill-timed
Passchendaele battle of 1917, that resulted in loss of 400,000 men and including
17,000 young Officers: simply to be forgotten by High Command as just one of those
mishaps. We had been informed that the purpose of the special training we were
receiving, that included chasing up slippery and wet embankments was for a secret
Brigade event. It so happened that the authorities changed their minds for the day
after St Georges Day in 1918 we were informed by the Colonel that he was sorry that
we had been deprived of the glory of The St Georges Day Zeebrugger event which
had taken place by volunteer Royal Marines of blocking the cannel there, that led to
the Germans submarine base. The successful attack and landing took place under the
command of Admiral Keys. Many who landed were captured to become prisoners of
war in Germany. Having later learnt of the many deaths and the fate of prisoners of
war we were not at all displeased to have missed the glory.
The month of May had passed and we had left the barracks and been transferred to
wooden huts at nearby Reed Hall. They were well constructed and of good
proportions still near the town. Much rifle firing was achieved and of which I was
reasonably ‘up-top’. A hut friendship had sprung up with about half dozen of us and
whose evening’s entertainment was the YMCA hut and ginger beer or lemonade
beverage instead of the Colchester High Street mooching and so called pub-crawling
!3
4. Summer evenings. One fine evening we found fun at the small bore rifle range in
charge of a friendly and elderly Sergeant who encouraged us to group shot
marksmanship. In a sense it was good free entertainment. It so happened that the
Company Captain and another Officer were passing by and stopped to enquire of the
Sergeant what we were doing. He told us to call in the office the next day to pick up a
free weekend pass as a reward. A week or so later the whole Company were detailed
for grouping with small bore rifles. It so happened that there was a very pleasant and
rich young Officer attached to the Company and was in charge of grouping that day.
There was only room for groups of about ten. He said he wanted to make a
ompetition of it and reward the winner of each group. That suited my purpose
enormously. Being a non-smoker then and non-alcoholic I could steady my aim and
not even breathe at the precise trigger press. The target cards came back and my half
inch group was the smallest and my reward a ten shilling note, worth much more in
those days. The Captain got to hear of the reward and topped that with a free
weekend pass, Friday afternoon to Sunday night. Actually life in the Hertfordshire
Yeomanry was very pleasant and with a smiling intelligent NCO, staff also. June, hot
and sunny came on with the ‘Spanish Flu’ which finally brought more World deaths
than those of the War. I was among the first to go down with it and to recover fairly
quickly. In July, considered fully trained, we were warded and issued with new
identity discs bearing name and numbers plus the fact that we were to be transferred
to the 18th Hussars as shown in the discs when we reached France after our return
from ten day overseas leave. Within a few days we made a final night march of about
two miles, wearing our gas masks to gain the experience of what we could come up
against later on. The march ended up after midnight at Colchester railway station,
there was a train already there to take us to London Liverpool Street.
I arrived home at my eldest sisters flat to find the kitchen key for me to flop down on
my bed at about 5am and to sleep soundly until mid-day when my sister arrived home
from Brighton where she was holidaying. A day of cleaning up, and both back to
Brighton for seven days to a residence where my sister had been staying with some
actress friends. It just happened that one of the younger actresses had been my first
girlfriend of 1917. The holiday was a lovely change, and a farewell party was given
to me by the actresses, three of whom became rather famous in the early twenties in
London theatres. They said they would be sending parcels to me in France, they did
so but I was not there to receive them, I learnt that they were shared out and very
much praised of the contents.
My leave over and back in Colchester; within a day or so, I was included in the first
draft of about one hundred men. We marched one evening to the railway station and
led by the Hertfordshire Regimental Band playing lively march music. At the station
entrained for Liverpool Street, London, the rich young Officer came to the carriage to
say good-bye and to let us know that he would soon be off to Egypt. It seemed to me
that there was sadness in his eyes, knowing that many off us would bound to be
wounded and some to die. My sister was at Liverpool Street to kiss me good-bye.
She had said good-bye to her husband similarly in 1917 but, if it be true, they would
meet again when she was 89 years and had died peacefully.
!4
5. The ‘draft’ arrived at Dover and next day we were on a ship, escorted by two
destroyers across the channel and to arrive at Calais at dusk. An officer met us and
after discussion with our Hertfordshire Yeomanry Quarter Master Sergeant who had
been with us as a guide the Officer led us to a large tented encampment with a huge
central marquee and told to kip down. It was then without any illumination as night
time had arrived. Most of us laid down on the ground and went to sleep but during
the night we were woken up to find a thunderstorm and much wind and rain had
brought down on top of us the marquee canvas roof. There was no physical damage
only rain saturating our uniforms. It was pitch dark except for an Officer with an
electric torch who led us to bell tents, hot tea brought round by orderlies and to fill
our tin mugs.
The next day we were transferred to another camp site of bell tents and simply left to
wait further instructions. We roamed around and on one road leading to the town of
Calais we found a cottage where eggs and chip potatoes could be bought. The mother
and daughter evidently made a business of cooking just eggs and chips for soldiers; it
was certainly a welcome meal and change from camp food of mostly soup and corned
beef. We, the half dozen friends did manage a dip in the sea about half a mile away.
Roughly a week was spent there with another check-up by doctors who refused to
pass one of the friends fit for trench-warfare; he was certainly of the underweight and
timid type, the doctor remarking that he should not have been sent to France. Within
a few days, our Hussar discs were taken away from us and substituted with those
marked 12th Norfolk Yeomanry. We later learnt that this regiment had been in Egypt
in the earlier years.
To most of us this change was a disappointment, since we had discovered the past
renown history of the Hussars, said to be known in Napoleonic War as the daring
‘Cherry Pickers’, true or false, we were disappointed, which later proved to be
justified. Within a day or so the whole contingent of massed units that included the
Herts first draft were grouped all together to a total of about three hundred bronzed or
sun-tanned and healthy looking young men waiting to be addressed by a Staff Officer
who rode up on a horse and who with usual palaver informed us that we were going
forth to fight and defeat the enemy and at the same time let the Germans know the
kind of stuff the British troops were made of etc, etc. On top of all that ‘pep talk’ he
ended with two typically foul jokes that did make some of the lower types roar with
laughter which seemed to please the Officer, who then rode off having completed his
day’s task. The next day in fine sunshine the Norfolk group only were assembled, and
two young Officers leading we marched through Calais to the railway yard and to be
herded into cattle trucks. On the way through the town an elderly French lady ran
over to me from her house and kissed my hand and gave me a bottle of home-made
wine, it seemed that she had tears in her eyes as she waved us good-bye. She no
doubt well aware that of those youths, some would not be alive much longer in their
efforts of showing the enemy what stuff they were made of.
!5
6. The cattle trucks travelling all day reached the town of Abbeville in the evening
during an air-raid. Sleep came easily on the truck floor and next morning after army
tea and porridge we rode on to pass by the town of Amiens, the Somme area capital
city and later in the evening to disembark at the small county town of Flesselles; the
Norfolk Brigade HQ and Depot. Food of some kind always seemed to be available by
army cooks. A huge barn where tiers of strong wire-mesh was attached to strong
upright wooden square posts and straw filled palliasses in place as a bed to sleep on.
We slept well but woke up itching, the cause of which we discovered a day or so later
to be due to invasion by lice, the kind that come under the heading ‘pubic irritants’
and lined all the seams of our uniforms in which to lay their numerous eggs. It was at
Flesselles that we heard the distant artillery fire. The stay there of two or three days
was followed by a long and arduous walk along country lanes sometimes
camouflaged on the enemy side. Very often a horse drawn truck would approach
packed with the dead bodies in khaki on the way to their final resting place and for us
to conjecture a similar fate now that the sound of the guns was becoming much louder
with each mile covered.
Towards the evening we came to some corrugated iron huts in a farmland area in
which we slept overnight and again on the march next day, passing through war
destroyed villages until that evening in July we reached the devastated village of
Mericourt L’Abbe, near one wrecked house, together with a completely destroyed
grand piano and with sheets of music scattered around that brought to mind the sound
of music that once floated peacefully on the air. Although all of us still teenagers we
were much concerned about the waste and destruction of war. Mericourt, recently
captured from the Germans was our Norfolk Yeomanry H.Q. We all lined up, our
names were called for us to be distributed to A and B Companies. That night A
Company went straight into the front line in a deep well-constructed trench and deep
‘dugouts’ which at great cost had been captured from the Germans. B Company, to
which I was attached, was in a nearby area once the village of Morlancourt. Actually
Morlancourt was situated on high ridge-like ground that looked down on the front line
area and beyond. The night had drawn in and star shells with brilliant white light
were often illuminating the area as well as coloured signals of reds and yellows that
seemed to signal messages.
A crusty looking Sergeant wearing Boer War medals told us to kip down on the ridge
ground which we did and even though the scene before us gave a dramatic appearance
of Guy Fawkes Night of brilliant bursting star shells together with the coloured red,
green, and yellow signals we were too exhausted to care and went to sleep
immediately. Typically of those kinds of Sergeant, we had not been asleep so very
long when two of us were awakened to get up and fill some dixie’s with water. When
I enquired ‘from where’ I was told to follow the pieces of bright tin which were stuck
in the ground and strangely enough they reflected enough light to guide us to the
water tank. This done we lay down again on the ground and went to sleep until the
dawn broke to sunshine, tea and porridge, bread and butter.
!6
7. We were now able to get a good view of our devastated surroundings. The
Morlancourt village appeared to be just a mass of bricks from smashed up cottages
and houses, lower down were some shallow trenches, our support lines to which we
were led after the meal and for us to meet the remains of the Norfolk B Company.
The Company Captain and staff with the grumpy Sergeant were already there. A
corporal, a very likeable person took us in hand and showed us the ropes of trench
life. He told us that the Sergeant had suffered great losses in the recent attack on
Morlancourt and German front line trench, that being the reason for our rushed
transfer from the Hussars. Not a great deal occurred for the next few days and we
soon learned the necessary trench procedures and acquaintance with the never ceasing
shell explosion, mostly humming overhead, distant machine gun fire was very
frequent from both German and British front line trenches, even the sound that often
represented the tune ‘God save the King,’ manipulated by trigger pressure da da da
dada.
For two or three days the Germans shelling on our rear was intense enough to prevent
water and food from being brought up by lorries from Flesselles. We had become
proficient in guessing where the shells would be falling and realising that we would
not remember the one that hit us. For two days we were without water and food. We
laid out at night time our ground sheets to gather the dew. We did have our corned
beef rations which we heated up over two halves of candles wrapped in hessian cloth
from sacking material to burn under our dixie lid, together with broken up Army
biscuit. This arrangement in the side of the trench wall formed a kind of oven and
with the heat from the burning candle-hessian material served as a tasty cooked
breakfast. Our planes did fly over to help out, but unfortunately dropped the supplies
in ‘no man’s land’ too dangerous to retrieve in daylight. On the second day there
arrived in our trench, an apparently important Staff Officer of Major rank in clean
tailored cavalry uniform, highly polished riding boots carrying an air of self-
importance even thought he had lost one arm no doubt in battle. We were brought to
attention and to listen to him telling us to clean our boots and polish our buttons, in
fact to smarten ourselves up. He asked me if I had shaved that morning, he must have
been aware that we were without water, and he did not appear to be pleased with my
answer when I told him that I had no hairs on my face to shave, yet still only eighteen
years of age. I emphasized that since the Government Order was that no man under
the age of nineteen years should be in the ‘Front Line’ area, something the Army
authorities completely disregarded. Typically, he must have decided that he had
accomplished his days work, and left the trench without another word.
Soon after he left, the Company supplies arrived. Water was still unavailable then,
but I learnt that the Morlancourt village pump was again in working order even
though it was advisable to keep low on approach since a hidden German sniper had
that area in his telescopic sight. Risking that I managed to reach the pump and fill my
water-bottle, when suddenly the zip of a bullet was heard passing my ear – saved by a
fraction of an inch. Another much experienced soldier came up to the pump to curse
as a bullet just missed him, who then declared he would get the ‘swine’. I do not
!7
8. know if he succeeded, for I got back quickly to our trench to tell the tale to others and
warn of the sniper.
After about seven or so days we knew that something was in view with regards to an
attack on the German lines for our ammunition was checked and Mills Grenades
given to some of the men. One night, about half-a-dozen of us were given spades to
tuck in our back packs and with a Corporal leading us to the front line and over the
top with orders to join up a few out posts with shallow trenches. These out posts were
just deep enough for one man to keep an eye on a possible patrol attack by the
Germans and to give warning to our ‘front line’ guards. One or two of our group kept
look-out whilst the rest began to dig the join-up trenches but soon had to cease for we
were overcome by mustard gas fumes still held in the damp subsoil. At that moment,
an Officer appeared to find out our progress. He also became aware of the obnoxious
atmosphere and told us to cease digging and to get back in our own time.
One or two false alarms had forced us to pick up our rifles, so in the pitch dark of the
night the Corporal led us back as he thought to our ‘front line’. The ground was
uneven in parts and after about five minutes or so I saw some German Jack-boots
standing up on top of a trench. I told the Corporal that we were in ‘Jerries’ front line
and pointed to the Jack-Boots being aired. No doubt, the Germans down below in
deep dug-outs or even if they were there at all for it was not known if their trench was
really occupied at night time. However, we turned about, lost in direction and trailed
on hopefully when suddenly we were halted by a voice calling ‘halt who goes there’ a
few feet away and pointing at us was a bayonet and rifle. Our call of Norfolk’s
satisfied the guard standing in front of high ground and who wanted to know what the
hell we were doing as ‘Jerries’ lines were not far away. We said we knew that as we
had just come from them since we had got lost in the dark. He told us to follow a lane
near by and we would reach the Norfolk lines which he knew were next to theirs
which we thought were the ‘Cambs’ lot. At that moment a terrific artillery
bombardment took place by the Germans letting hell loose on the rear of where we
guessed our lines should be. We were not too worried as the shells were passing well
overhead. Also the distant sky of semi-illumination created by the bursting shell-fire
did help us to find our way to rest and find shelter and sleep in a partly demolished
barn. We simply flopped down not caring what happened and went straight off to
sleep. Waking up in bright sunlight the Corporal and I discovered that our heads were
half way in the carcass of a dead horse that we had failed to perceive in the dark of the
night before. It was all part of warfare that had to be accepted and still find
something to laugh about as the others did. The night shelling had ceased and we
continued down the lane now a mass of churned up soil and soon to find our lines.
The Officer who the night before had told us to get back in our own time showed
relief at seeing us safe and sound for as we did not turn up he imagined we had been
killed or perhaps taken prisoner. The Corporal’s explanation satisfied him and
forthwith we got back to our trenches, but to find they had suffered from the over-
night shelling also. Fortunately, those we left behind had found cover elsewhere. The
Germans were no doubt aware that some move was in the offing and their aeroplanes
were often overhead spying, so rear shelling activity was frequent and they were not
!8
9. wrong, for a day or so later we were warned to check ammunition and rifles and some
Mills Grenades were issued and primed. On the morning of the 25th August 1918 our
first ‘over the top’ and battle conditions were experienced. The 5am near dawn
suddenly broke out with terrific ear shaking and earth tremors of Australian Artillery
barrage on German lines. It began on ‘no-mans’ land which we followed slowly with
rifles and bayonets at the ready. Machine gun bullets were whizzing from the German
machine guns and here and there the field gun shells bursting and the cries of the
wounded for stretcher bearers together with the cries of ‘oh’ from many who had
stopped a bullet. It was all a new and devastating experience of noise and earth
shaking for the Hertfordshire Yeomanry first real battle experience. I saw in the dawn
mist and shell smoke, a German machine gunner raking us with bullets, then suddenly
all was quiet again except for the odd German field gun fire. The sun came out and
the day broke for us to discover we had achieved the object of over-taking the
German lines and to witness for the first time some Germans with arms raised and
shouting ‘Kamarade’. Although the attack had ended there were still odd German
shells coming over and I witnessed one Herts man blown sky high. An Officer came
over to tell us that the Captain and his runner had been killed by machine gun fire. I
did not learn much concerning our loss except that one of our friendly Herts group
was absent. It was not until after the war that I learned that he had been shot in the
foot.
The picture presented in the bright sunny morning was a semi-sunken road which I
was told was the Mennen-Albert Road. The sloping side was used as openings of
deep dugouts and in one of which a group of Norfolk’s were shouting and apparently
getting no response, then someone threw a Mills Grenade down the hole. With that a
German Officer came out, obviously badly wounded but firing his revolver
indiscriminately, but suddenly fell to the ground dead from a shot from one of our
men. All this was at a distance from where I was surveying the scene. Walking up I
got there just in time to see one fellow opening the Germans pocket wallet and to
abstract a photograph. It was of a good looking family group, the Officer in civi
clothes, his well dressed wife and two young children a boy and a girl. I felt then of
the sadness that would soon overtake that wife and two children. The same that
happened to very many others of all who took part in the war to end all wars.
Refreshed with the usual breakfast we were left to ourselves most of that day, the
battle was won and the Town of Albert taken over by the Australians during that
sunny morning. I had seen in the near distance the famous statue of the hanging
‘Madonna’ of Albert, I was given the understanding that this statue hanging down
from a war damaged church had happened earlier in the war and that when the statue
fell the war would end. Looking towards that town early in the morning I suddenly
saw Australian soldiers on my left walking casually and with their rifles slung on their
shoulders, towards that town. It all appeared in one aspect as a cinema scene. Not a
gun was heard, there was complete silence, and the Germans individually walking out
of that town and with arms raised in surrender, knowing that for them the war was
ended. The casual stroll of the Australians was to me unrealistic, still more so, when
one or two of the Australians vented their spite by punching some Germans on the
!9
10. nose they were passing by. The feeling then to me was that we were winning the war.
I think that sunny scene of my idle yet revealing viewing lasted for about half an hour.
The town on that sunny August morning surrounded by some green country was the
last time I saw it and I was to notice as I left that ‘Madonna’ had fallen – the war
would soon be over.
The next day we were on our way to another part of the Somme. I believe that we
being so called Yeomanry, we were used to fill up the gaps that sometimes occurred
with the Germans back or some regiments resting for a few days then we just take
over. Sometimes it meant going by coach. In one instance the village known as
Nurlu was taken by the Essex Yeomanry in a night attack and the next day we took
over that area. There was much German equipment that included their helmets,
bayonets, rifles and one or two discarded service revolvers. The area appeared as if at
one time it had been a blackberry wood, for there were heaps of trodden-down bushes
covered in ripe blackberries. One of our finds was a very big canvas sack full of
white sugar.
I suggested making some blackberry jam. Plenty of ripe fruit was collected and
mixed with ample sugar, boiled in a dixie over a camp fire it resulted in lovely
looking jam which when spread on bread and margarine tasted marvellous after Army
plum and apple. Next day we all began to suffer more than discomfort and had to
miss duties. The doctor said we had picked up a ‘bug’, but it was not that serious.
We knew better since the mixture had been thoroughly boiled we few were the only
sufferers. My view was that the blackberries probably retained mustard gas. Being
damp the mustard gas was retained in the damp earth. The Germans often sent over
the gas in shell form and its obnoxious odour was often present in the air and took a
fair time to disperse. We were better the next day and completely free of the
dysentery-like condition. We were on the move again; the jam left behind and still in
the Somme area, we took up positions well in the rear in shallow trenches and near a
clean looking free flowing stream or river and told to take off all our clothes and have
a dip in a contrived bath of hot water and soap to help remove all lice debris and
accumulated dirt. Holes had been dug and lined with material similar to sail cloth and
which held the hot water. After a good soaping and clean-up we had freedom to swim
in the river, which to us then was a gift of the gods. Thus well refreshed we were
handed new issues of long and close fitted cotton-like thin vests smelling of camphor
and someone gave them the name of ‘Chat Wallis’. They were another god send and
did help to free our bodies of the itching. On top of which we gave our uniforms a
very thorough clean up, scraping the seams to be rid of all lice eggs. We were
relieved at last of the bulk but no doubt some eggs survived.
Back again in support lines neared the ‘Front Line’, we were warned that another
morning attack was on the way. That afternoon before the attack day, the letters and
parcels were delivered and since there was none for me I was watching a young
Norfolk original being particularly absorbed in cleaning his rifle. He was one who
had survived the Morlancourt attack and which had probably brought fear of these
attacks to his mind. Suddenly, a shot rang out and I saw that part of the finger of the
!10
11. youngsters hand covered in blood and at the same time heard his cry of ‘mother
mother’. A cry I heard before in battle. It all happened so quickly. Our Captain
rushed up to us and shouting usual Army language and wanted witnesses, the injured
one calling out it was an accident. Another soldier telling the Officer that he saw the
culprit pull the rifle trigger. The next order was for the friendly Corporal, witness and
culprit to be kept under arrest and taken to Flessels. I never heard of the Court
Marshall result, but what I saw of the young soldier manoeuvring with his rifle, I
doubt it being accidental. From then onwards we were often going ‘over the top’, the
enemy often retreated at the first sign of attack. At night time in the far distance we
could see the glare of German dumps, their burning of dumps took place every night
time, but they were still shelling us every day and often with effect from their high
explosive.
One day the whole Battalion was paraded and addressed by the Colonel for our recent
advances and to let us know that on foot we had driven the enemy back for twenty-
two miles in the past August weeks and which in those trench fighting days was quite
an achievement.
One sunny August day we took over positions on the rising grass bank of Fricourt
Ridge. From their lower side the Germans were sending over frightening ‘Wizz
Bangs’ so called. These things whizzed rapidly anywhere through the air. It
reminded me of fire-works day of old when wizz-bang fireworks were let off, but the
German version was rather terrifying and ear-splitting and death dealing. We were
guarding the front-line of that area and when night came a Corporal and about three of
us were sent forward to occupy an outpost shell hole to keep eyes and ears alert
against a possible German patrol raid. As it happened all was quiet. We knew that
another regiment was attacking the Germans at dawn. Again, suddenly and in the
dark before dawn we could make out the regiment walking towards us. The Officer
leading with revolver in hand, the men in line in close formation and rifles with fixed
bayonets pointing towards us, then the sudden shout of ‘here they are’, luckily, and
just in time we shouted quickly, ‘Norfolk’s here!’ They were completely surprised,
for they had not been told we were there and they were expecting to meet Germans.
We had only just escaped death in the matter of seconds. They wanted to know where
the Germans were. We just said ‘over there’. Within minutes machine-gun fire was
heard, the Germans were awake and ready. As the faint dawn began to break we saw
our men running back and conscious of machine-gun fire bullets buzzing around. We
then kept well down in our shell-hole for safety reasons and to hear our Captain
dashing up and shouting ‘Cowards’ and telling us to shoot the sanguinary swine,
which, of course we did not, for the men running back were much fewer than those
who passed us earlier.
With the sun up, all was then quiet, we then got back to join ‘B’ Company behind the
ridge. We were fully aware that the attack had failed and in the early afternoon to
witness our Colonel and Staff Officers deep in conversation and out of earshot a small
distance away.
!11
13. Their decision was final ‘B’ Company was to go over that afternoon and the
remainder of the regiment to follow if we were successful. Led by our Captain with
his revolver at hand we traversed the ridge and in the sunny afternoon looked down
on an extended sandy space and a line of German emplacements of trenches in the
near distance. Getting down to the sandy base was easily accomplished and the
Captain led us forward to meet a hail, literally so, of bullets sending up tufts of sand
as they fell and some of the men being unlucky and falling down wounded or dead. I
have no idea how I survived, for bullets were striking the sand all round me as we
walked towards the Germans who were now standing up firing their rifles. I was also
firing from the hip position as I walked. Suddenly the Germans retreated and we who
were left took over a complicated array of trenches and deep dugouts all in the nature
of a fortification in land depth, which explained the previous night’s failure in the
complete darkness. Alone, I ventured to walk deeper since the firing had ceased and
came to deep dugout about twelve feet square that housed a young German pointing
his rifle at me and grunting something in German. I called down ‘Kamarade’ but it
made little difference, he looked scared, but still pointing his rifle. As I got back for
safety reasons the Captain and Sergeant Major joined me. I told them about the
German in the ‘pit’, forthwith the Captain yelled ‘Kamarade’ several times but the
German pointing his rifle remained silent. With that the Captain told me to shoot him,
but I said that I could not do so in ‘cold blood’. The Sergeant Major raised his
revolver and the stupid or simply scared young German collapsed, dead from the
aimed bullet. Whether there be some physical form of retribution I do not know; but
the Captain had moved off immediately after giving the order to shoot, then again
suddenly a German field gun shell landed and burst nearby. I felt the blast only and it
did appear that the Sergeant Major was hit except that he showed complete signs of
shell shock. He began to shake or tremble; dropping his revolver and just shambled
off, completely in a trembling condition just within minutes of shooting the German
dead.
All seemed to be under control again and apart from field gun shells falling
indiscriminately beyond the new occupied trenches by the regiment, in full, there did
appear a young Officer reporting to ‘B’ Company Captain that he had and his small
group had thrown Mills Grenades down every deep dug-out. It was getting towards
late evening when down came rain. Unfortunately I had lost my strapped ground
sheet when going ‘over’ and I tried to trace the way back I had come in order to find
it, I was unsuccessful so had to endure the all night rain for me to suffer drenching in
a deep trench and no cover. Next days hot sunshine helped one to dry out and we
were on the move again, more or less resting in the rear as reserve.
We were now into September 1918. One morning, just about four of us were sitting
in a deep shell hole in which we were sampling some German black bread we found
there that tasted much like charcoal, when suddenly we were conscious that a shell
was about to drop from our immediate sky. We all ducked and heard it fall and I felt
the earth debris scattered on my neck and shoulders. Nothing further happened so
very slowly I turned my head round to perceive an unexploded shell about six inches
!13
14. away stuck upright in the rim of the shell-hole we were sitting in. Knowing that
lightning never strikes twice in the same place I wondered whom I had to thank for it
being a dud one and the nearest that any German shell had been to me.
We had retaken much of the land that the Germans had captured in their successful
March ‘push’. Nevertheless, as far as we were involved, there were still some areas
that need to be cleared up. One was a densely wooded area that contained a German
machine-gun troop. Orders were given for us to tackle that and nearby trenches. It
was a sunny early September morning in 1918 that our Captain and other Officers led
us forward on the broad green field that sloped down to the wood. We were well in
view of the Germans and then their field artillery let loose with the result that both
Officers who were well in the lead suffered chest wounds from flying shell fragments
and had to retire. That was the last I saw of them, but learnt much later that they both
survived well. Then two Sergeants took over and we continued on but fierce shelling
began again and we were forced to stop. Without Officers we were at a loss and the
shelling ceased. Communications must have been on the go for we witnessed on our
left the Cambridgeshire Regiment attacking and distant Germans being driven from
their trenches. For us the attack was cancelled and we were moved back to rest near
the Canal du Nord that had been taken the night before and crossed without any loss.
That ended all forays for us and a new Captain appeared. He was the young
Lieutenant who had led a group of bombers that day we went forward from Fricourt
Ridge. Actually it was the first time I had seen him then. He was a rashly fearless
type who seemed to enjoy throwing Mills Grenades down deep dug-outs. He
explained that we were resting for ten days and at the same time practising for the
coming big battle. It happened to be the important Battle of Ephy and of which I
learnt much later that more regiments than ours took part in its capture. As far as the
troops were concerned we learnt that Epehy was well fortified by the Germans. The
Captain of ‘B’ Company explained that moves were to be, in theory, maintained. We
were shown photographs of the area we were to attack. These were aerial
photographs taken by our airmen of the whole area. The attack to take place 5am on
the 18th September beginning with a preliminary and fierce barrage of Australian
heavy artillery for us. This time we were to advance slowly in columns of about half
dozen men with a section leader who also carried the large tin of soup and bread for
the section. I was put in charge of a section who were the friends of Hertfordshire
Yeomanry days. We were to advance to a railway embankment and wait for the
barrage to cease then follow the daring, if not mad, Captain leading us mounted on his
white horse, to me it was a definite target for the Germans to see and eliminate
immediately. Having killed off all the enemy we were to advance another thirty yards
to ‘dig-in’ a trench then drink our soup. The reason for the thirty yard advance was to
avoid shelling of the German trench whose range would be known by the enemy field
gunners.
We practised the moves during the ten day rest, so called and we were confident that
we would succeed as we had been accomplished against German troops mostly of a
similar age to ourselves. At last the day of the 17th came. We knew this time that it
was something ‘big’ about to take place. The whole regiment, the 12th Norfolk
!14
15. Yeomanry on that sunny afternoon, led for the first time by the Regimental Band
came to a halt presumably not too far from the ‘front line’. The Band continued to
play the popular music of the day sung by the troops mostly on the march. The
Company Officers were drinking whiskey and dancing to the tune of ‘Believe It If
You Like’. We did not blame them for we gathered that with so much hilarity they
knew of something positive and that now we could only guess about. They, typically
brave British leaders, who were always with revolvers in hand, first over the ‘top’
carrying out orders from the Generals, theirs not to reason why, theirs just to do and
die. From that period of rest and hilarity we marched slowly up to the ‘front line’ we
took over at dusk. The deep trenches in rugged country area with darkness coming on
quickly so it seemed. As usual water had to be collected from unknown Head
Quarters. A Corporal and one or two others were sent in the pitch dark but failed to
return. Therefore my section with another corporal was sent to find the Company
Head Quarters, which proved to be just a deep hole in the ground and covered with a
sheet of corrugated iron. We were told promptly to clear off as the water had been
collected. We got back just in time to tell the Officer who had sent us what had
happened when the barrage opened up.
The uproar was really terrific. It did not seem possible that anyone could be found
alive under such a barrage of high explosive. The whole regiment went over to follow
slowly in the dark smoke and sound of the guns and explosions. The area was very
rough and uneven. We managed to reach the railway track and the German machine-
gun fire was frequent and accurate and the cries of the wounded were frequently
calling for stretcher bearers. This was something completely different from what we
had previously experienced. Star shells were illuminating the sky. The Captain
leading us over on horse back was immediately mowed down and both killed. I saw
the German machine gun that was pouring bullets continuously into the men on my
right. The Germans knew the range which was not a great distance but then mostly to
my right.
We were lined out and flat on the rail track so I suggested we all together emptied our
rifles together on the machine gun that we could see. I empted my magazine and as I
got down from my elbows firing position with the idea of re-loading I felt a terrific
thump on my back or right shoulder. I described the feeling as if a ten ton weight hit
hard in an area of one inch. There was no pain but I could feel the blood flowing
warm down my back. I knew then that I had stopped a machine-gun bullet. I told the
others that I had been hit and passed the food over to the next man. I could see an
Officer and Corporal to my left in a shell hole as the dawn was beginning to break. I
crawled over and the Corporal was just telling the Officer that I was ‘just over there’;
but I told them I was wounded. With that the Officer said that I should make my way
back. The Corporal gently removed my back valise and other equipment and
suggested that casualty would be best rather than dressing it with one we always
carried in the trouser leg pocket. The barrage had ceased and the dim light of day
showed the devastated way back through long wet grass land. The buzz of bullets
could still be heard as I walked back in the smoky dawn. I was able to manage alone
on my own when suddenly I fell into a narrow long grass-covered trench full of cold
!15
16. September dawn water. With just one arm I managed to get out of that, but drenched
with water. Walking on still in the foggy dim light I felt and heard the wizz of bullets
around my legs. I stood and looked round and was lucky to observe one of our
observation balloons going up in the opposite direction to that I had been walking –
back to the battle area with bullets still travelling.
Walking on I again fell in another narrow trench of water. Coping with that again I
got away at last from the battle area and clear daylight and flat grass-land. A young
Officer and two men appeared and wanted to know what was happening. I told them
that I did not know except that resistance had been great. German shells were
beginning to fall and soon I found an Artillery Officer and just one big gun hidden
under some trees. He gave me a hot welcome cup of tea and told me to get to a horse
drawn Red Cross wagon in the near distance. There was just room for me in the rear.
The green canvas covered wagon was typical of the times with the strong canvas held
in position by very strong brass hooks that fitted into strong brass rings screwed in the
canvas green cover. The driver led the horse along a semi-sunken road but for some
unknown reason stopped just a few feet in front of a very heavy gun battery which
were on the bank level with the top of the ambulance. From where I sat in the open
back I could see the gunners loading the heavy guns with big shells. Suddenly there
was a terrific roar of gun-fire. The horse reared up on its hind legs the canvas sides
fell down with their stout brass hooks all straightened by the force of the percussion
shock. My ears felt shattered and no doubt some kind of injury occurred which at that
time was not recognised as it has been proven medically so today. The greatly
bandaged head of the German soldier who was sitting opposite to me began to show
much haemorrhaging taking place. The initial shock was such that momentarily I
thought we had been hit by a German shell. The gun Officer cursed the horse driver
for stopping there right close to his guns and the driver cursed the Officer and with
that he led the horse and ambulance on its way to an obviously recently erected
canvas casualty clearing station of very big marquee and smaller ones. There was a
fair staff of doctors, nurses and orderlies, all giving the impression that many
casualties were to be expected and of which I was one of the first. Details were taken
of each of the walking wounded and written down by an RAMC orderly. In the main
marquee a doctor attended to my wound, firstly easing the tunic off carefully then
cleaning the wounds of which there were two. With two dressings in place he then
injected in my arm a fair-sized solution of anti-toxin.
With my tunic back on, the doctor told me that the bullet had entered the upper
shoulder, travelling downwards had been deflected by the scapular to make an
extended six inch gash coming out. Since there was no pain I felt fine and very
pleased to be alive and away from the battle. There was a long table with many plates
piled high with fresh white bread, butter and jam and mugs of hot tea. I tucked into
that completely satisfied with my lot. Outside in the sunshine a small marquee was
open to reveal several tables containing writing materials, pens and printed cards with
just indications to tick off. My two cards for posting; one to my sister the other to the
Hospital Professor ticked off: - I have been wounded, I am well, I underlined the well.
The place began to fill up with the wounded and I was soon placed in a small motor
!16
17. van with two wounded Officers, one wearing a kilt, all the time of the journey through
ruined French Towns of Peronne and Bapaume they were engrossed in recounting
their battles, but my interest was in the ruined villages, all then tidied up on the route
to Rouen. There, another Red Cross marquee and tent clearing station, with nurses
and sisters all going about their appropriate tasks with the wounded.
I was placed on a stretcher as a bed, given a tin of cigarettes and told to go to sleep,
which I did immediately, having been covered in blankets and miles from the
battlefield of that morning. Awake later in the day to find another tin of cigarettes on
my blanket which incidentally were of no use to me, I was fed, dry and comfortable
and later to sleep through the night. Next morning I was washed and had breakfast
and told that I was off by train early to Le Havre. The train to the landing stage there
on the coast was packed with wounded soldiers, all confined to bunks as is usual on
train sleepers. We were looked after by a few young ladies who were volunteers for
such work again with cigarettes, whereas for myself I would have appreciated
chocolate.
It so happened that Le Havre landing stage had been converted into a hospital and a
real bed for me in clean sheets, on orderly of RAMC to give me a bed bath and a
nurse to change the wound dressing just seemed like heaven. I had a fine view of the
harbour with the sun shining and a band nearby often playing music of those days.
The scene lasted for about three days and the war news was that of Germany
retreating almost every day. I was told that an Australian Liner was picking us up late
in the evening. It came well marked with huge Red Crosses painted on the hull. I
saw it arrive and soon the RAMC stretcher bearers were busy transporting the
wounded and our small bags of Army issue of washing and shaving materials, the
latter still not needed by me.
!17
18. On that fine September summer evening I could see from my bed the Australian Liner
Essequibo as she drew up very slowly to berth along side the landing stage. She
presented a wonderful picture, ablaze in bright light and decorated with huge Red
Cross designs on hull and deck. That lovely ship said the nurse is taking you tonight
across the Channel to Southampton. Within a few minutes I was transported by
stretcher to the First Class State Room whose ceiling and walls presented a fine décor
of white and gold, together with many bed-cots of similar decoration, the whole a
sight never to be forgotten. A smiling nurse very efficient looking gave me a life-
saving jacket and instructions how to wear it if needed and which she said was
unlikely. We had already been well fed on the landing-stage ward, but a mug of hot
drink soon sent me to sleep and for me to wake up next morning to a fine breakfast on
board, and berthed at Southampton.
We were soon on stretchers on landside and to watch the Essequibo leaving again to
Le Havre. An orderly of the RAMC began taking particulars of all the wounded and
checking my name and number and home address of London. Forthwith I found
myself along with others on the way by train to Birmingham, arriving there later that
afternoon. The train was evidently special for wounded since we were all in two tier
beds with some nurses in attendance and young ladies handing out many cigarettes,
but never chocolate.
From the station into a small motor ambulance I ended up in a converted children’s
school at Kings Heath, a few miles from the city. The school rooms held about three
beds and apart from the nurses was under control of RAMC. With daily treatment of
my wounds and another small injection of anti-tetanus serum I was very quickly on
the mend. Blue coated trousers were soon issued together with kit bag and other
essentials necessary for daily use. Allowed up within a few days I took a trip by tram-
car to the very busy city. I had no idea of what to find there and was surprised to see
the busy covered market place, theatres, shops typical of similar London life. Within
a week or so I was told I’m to be ready for Malvern.
At Great Malvern Station I was met and driven in a horse drawn coach through the
lovely spa resort to the fine house close to the Malvern Hills. Earl Beauchamp had
loaned the place as a convalescent home for wounded soldiers. On the way there, an
Army Officer walking by, saw me in the slow moving coach and immediately walked
over to tell me that Turkey had surrendered unconditionally to the allies and that the
war in France would soon be over. I then wondered about the part that the famed
Lawrence of Arabia had played.
At the fine house entrance I was welcomed by a very pleasant elderly and to me a
typically hospital Matron of those times. She took me straight up the wide stairs to
my bedroom in which there were three similar fine beds and giving me some pyjamas
told me to stay there for seven days. Later, two other young soldiers appeared to later
form a good companionship. Although my wounds still needed daily attention, they
were healing very nicely of fast granulation tissue, so much that after three days the
!18
19. Matron found my wounds had responded so well that she said I could get up and
collected from their store a better blue jacket and trousers etc, than the ones issued at
Kings Heath.
In presenting myself downstairs I discovered there were about twenty-five other
soldiers in the blue worn by the wounded of that war. A variety from Australia to
Scotland and different English Counties. I then learnt that we were expected to help
in the house maintenance for a short period each morning for about half an hour. The
Matron asked me what had been my occupation before being ‘called-up’, when I told
her of Pathology technique at the Whitechapel London Hospital she became very
overwhelmed, for it had been her hospital and Nurse Cavell had been her friend and
was further pleased when I told her that a Nurses Home in her name was being
erected there as I left.
The next day she called me into her room and said she wanted me to be her orderly.
This was a very pleasant job of cashing cheques at the local bank or delivering letters
to local resident helpers and such like. My sister came to visit and was pleased with
my healthy looking complexion evidenced in Malvern.
The large dining room contained several white-clothed tables of ample proportion.
The condiments in complete order in silver containers and white serviettes with
cutlery of similar refinement was all suggestive of Earl Beauchamp’s contribution.
The well cooked fresh food of ample proportions was simply gorgeous and served
from china tureens by the nursing staff who appeared to be well trained of better class
and politely affable volunteers who seemed to look upon us as war heroes. All well
trained, no doubt, by the fine Matron whose word was law to everyone and
appreciated by all.
A good companionship of four young wounded soldiers sprang up between us, I being
probably the lightest of wounded of all others for two had lost a leg each. The walk
around Great Malvern and climbing the hills was very satisfying. It was late October
and the weather mostly fine . In the afternoon we decided to visit Malvern Wells and
tea room there. We found on that first sunny afternoon three young land girls
recovering from the flu bug. Immediately a fine healthy friendship sprang up. We
offered them tea and soon discovered one Dora of Birmingham had a lovely singing
voice, being a member of the famous Birmingham Choir, she was also a good pianist.
On the whole, our voices were appreciated by the owner and daughter who listened to
our singing the songs then popular, Roses of Picardie, The long Trail a Winding,
They’ll Never Believe me, my solo of Good-Bye Sister Dear, I could sing then!! We
could only meet in day time up to 5 o’clock and no alcohol was allowed to boys in
Blue, wounded, but everyone was content, for within three weeks the war to end all
wars was over. As it happened on the November 11th we met the girls in the High
Street and gave one the money to by a bottle of Port Wine as we ourselves were
prohibited. In the High Street we could only drink from the bottle to wish everyone
of us Good-Luck.
!19
20. The next day the young land girls had vanished, being recalled, but the Birmingham
Dora had been very much friendly with one of us who had the address and given her
my address also. Later she wrote that if ever I visited Birmingham would I call and
her mother would put me up for a stay there if I wished. I thought that was very kind
of her and we had all been so very good friends but so suddenly had ceased and
without even saying good-bye. Later she wrote that one of the good companions was
back in Birmingham, still needing special wound treatment, also that she very much
missed the happy afternoons of The Malvern Tea Rooms. I never managed to get
there for the war had ended and we each had to go our way, but the memory and
melodies linger on. Within a few days or so the doctor found my wound had healed
and so classified me as B1 not fit for active service.
With a new uniform and kit, the Matron gave me a farewell present of chocolate and
wished me good luck at her old hospital. Long leave came but Christmas with the
Norfolk’s at Felixstowe Barracks was pleasant enough and then the most amazing
thing happened for me. One morning the RSM came to me with some
correspondence papers and as in typical Army language who the so and so was I
supposed to be and forthwith handed the papers over and told me to pack all my kit
and clear-off to London first thing in the following morning. A letter from my
Professor Turnbull had been written to the ‘Home Secretary’ letting him know that his
pathology research, requested by the Government, was held up for my technical help
and since I was B1 and not needed Army wise would he get my release. The Home
Secretary wrote to the Norfolk’s Colonel demanding my immediate release. The next
!20
21. morning a young Norfolk’s Officer accompanied one to the railway station, saw me to
a carriage compartment and said ‘cheerio’ with a smile, waiting for the train to depart,
saluted and waived me good-bye. I think I was one of the first to be demobilised
from there and get such special treatment. At Crystal Palace demobilisation area, I
was discharged and awarded five shillings and sixpence per week after being
examined by the doctor. I mentioned a little loss of hearing but he declared that it was
probably wax. The five shillings and sixpence for twenty weeks was for the machine-
gun bullet wound. To claim that I was compelled to be verified as such at the local
Police Station in order to collect five shillings and sixpence at the Post Office. Even
so averse suspicious in considering my looking too young to have been in the war, but
offering to show my wounds they signed my paper as prescribed.
My autobiography has ended, but the memories linger on.
!21
22. PostScript:
During the next few years his hearing deteriorated and eventually my Grandfather
became totally deaf. He carried on working at his beloved London Hospital in the
Pathology department, where he became expert in what they would now call
homicide. He worked on famous murder cases and was an expert at dating remains
from their bone deterioration. He had a chance to meet his hero, Lawrence of Arabia,
but this was post-mortem. He took photographs of the first cases of Mad Cow disease
in humans in the 1920’s and was active in the home guard during WW2. He married
Doris Dearman and had two fine sons, my Dad and my Uncle. He always had a sense
of humour and a sweet tooth. There was always chocolate in the house.
!22
