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Duchess of Connaught’s Red Cross Hospital - 15th Canadian Hospital



   The Duchess of Connaught Red Cross Hospital, was located in 15 acres of the grounds of Cliveden, a stately home set in an 376-acre estate near Taplow. The hospital was built by the wealthy American Astor family and furnished by the Canadian Red Cross for the treatment of mainly Canadian soldiers. The first patients arrived in March 1915. It was later renamed 15th Canadian Hospital. The military hospital closed on the 15th of September 1919.

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Those known to have worked or been treated at

Duchess of Connaught’s Red Cross Hospital - 15th Canadian Hospital

during the Great War 1914-1918.

  • Wingate Walter Ernest Fenton. L/Cpl.

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Records of Duchess of Connaught’s Red Cross Hospital - 15th Canadian Hospital from other sources.


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Want to know more about Duchess of Connaught’s Red Cross Hospital - 15th Canadian Hospital?


There are:0 items tagged Duchess of Connaught’s Red Cross Hospital - 15th Canadian Hospital available in our Library

  These include information on officers, regimental histories, letters, diary entries, personal accounts and information about actions during the Great War.




264243

L/Cpl. Walter Ernest Fenton Wingate 7th Btn No.4 Company

Walter Wingate

Walter Wingate served with No.4 Company, 7th Battalion Canadian Expeditionary Force. The following accounts are the personal accounts of Walter F Wingate and his experiences before and during WW1:

1st account: “Enlisted at Esquimalt B.C on October 1st 1914 in the 88th Victoria Fusiliers, and in the following month was passed medically fit into the 30th Overseas Battalion, in training at the Willows Camp, Victoria, B.C on 14th of February 1915, battalion left camp en route for England, arriving at Avonmouth on March 7th where it entrained for Napier Barracks, Shorncliffe. On May 2nd my company, No.1, was transported to Boulogne, and two days later entrained for railhead, from which we marched to billets near Bailleul where my company was split up, I being drafted into No. 4 Coy, 7th Battalion. On May 19th we were quartered in a ruined farmhouse behind Festubert. On May 24th my company was badly shelled in German trenches and I was slightly wounded in neck & left arm. I was sent down to Marlborough Convalescent Camp at Boulogne, and a week later moved to No.19 Camp at Le Havre. On June 15th rejoined my company, near Bethune, and following night marched into trenches at Givenchy. Towards end of month the battalion was relieved and marched up to Plugstreet where for next two months we were in and out of the front line. On August 27th I was seriously wounded by shell fire in the front trenches, and sent down to No.13 Stationary Hospital (eye ward 264243) Boulogne where my right eye was removed, and on Sept 2nd I was transported to Dover en route for No.4 General Hospital, London, where I underwent several operations. On Oct 7th I was taken by ambulance to Can. Red Cross Hospital at Taplow where I was again operated on. On Jan 15th 1916 I was sent to Uxbridge for the West Cliff Eye Hospital at Folkestone. Here the medical board recommended my discharge, and on Feb 25th I entrained for Prior Park, Bath, receiving my discharge from there on March 10th, 1916.” W. Fenton Wingate.

Diary entry of WFW records soldiers from Platoon 15, No. 11 Section, 7th Division CEF wounded at Festubert on 24th of May 1915:

  • 77819 L/Corp Wingate, W.F. (wounded)
  • 16881 Davey, J.H. (wounded) home
  • 16891 Gill, K.E. (wounded) home
  • 21714 Jones, D.
  • 21086 O'Brien, E.L.
  • 16929 Richard, H.P. (wounded)
  • 77892 Reynolds, E. (wounded)
  • 77223 Nicholls, M.R. (wounded)
  • 77796 Smith, L.G.

2nd account of WW1 Military service: “ Brief Record of events” Walter Fenton Wingate:

“We left the Napier Barracks, Shorncliffe, on Sunday evening of May 2nd, entraining to the harbour, and at nightfall we embarked for the French coast, arriving at Boulogne after an uneventful crossing. We there disembarked and marched through the darkened town, up past the black loom of the cathedral (reminding me of my visit there four years ago) out onto the uplands at the back of the town to Camp St. Martin where we slept under canvas that night. We did very little on Monday, not being allowed outside the precincts of the camp. Barry O`Longdon and I patronised the YMCA tent in the camp to a considerable extent, managing to get quite good coffee, cocoa, tea, and cake, and other eatables. On the Tuesday morning the entire camp went out for a short route march through remarkably pretty, well settled country. On the way we passed the Convalescent Camp for the sick and wounded of our Indian forces, and the Sikhs, Gurkhas and Pathans lined the hedgerows and fences, many of them saluting and cheering us. That evening we marched down through Boulogne to the railway station where we entrained for a destination unknown. We travelled for about six hours at a very slow pace, and finally detrained onto the railway track at a little village, called Steenwercke, just as dawn was breaking into a lovely day. This was railhead, and we marched out beyond the village onto the main road where we piled arms and camped for several hours, making a pretty hearty breakfast of Bully Beef and Hard Tack. The surrounding country is very pretty, rather flat but fairly well wooded and well settled. The picturesque old farmhouses, with their red tiled roofs peeping out from amongst the budding green foliage, dotted the landscape. Whilst eating our breakfast we watched the vigorous shelling of a couple of Aeroplanes, presumably English, away east on the firing line, some 8 or 10 miles away. Although the sun was then high up we could easily see the flash of the bursting shells which seemed to break all around the planes. I have since seen this occurrence frequently, resulting in a tremendous wastage of ammunition and no apparent damage to the planes. About noon we began our march in the direction of Bailleul, some miles to the east. The weather was very close and stifling, and our heavy equipment and the rather rapid pace we forced began to tell on us, and we were soon reduced to a state of perspiring exhaustion. We lunched on Bully Beef and hard tack by the roadside, beyond the town, and shortly afterwards we were broken up into smaller parties and marched off to our various billets. I was lucky, making one of 22 in a small farmhouse where we all slept in the attics. We were in a quiet secluded side road and there we stayed a couple of nights very comfortably, until we were all split up into our new sections and drafted into the 7th Battalion, or 1st B.C Regiment. My new company, No.4, was billeted about a mile and a half away from Battalion headquarters in a very prettily situated farmhouse near an old mill, and a bare half mile from a village. We were all quartered in the barns, cowsheds, and haylofts. I was in a big straw barn, solidly built of brick and timber with the inevitable and picturesque red tiled roof. It was very dark and none too clean, and we were packed pretty close, but in the week we were there we soon shook down into the conditions. We all had to wash in a dirty duck pond teeming with animal life. Every day the regimental water cart came round bringing fresh drinking water, that had first been boiled, with which we used to fill our bottles. The food was good, but there was practically no variety, and we missed the vegetables. Since leaving England we have had no green food at all, and we are certainly feeling the want of it. We had a couple of hours parade each morning, and a two hours easy route march in the afternoon, so we were not overworked. We were allowed to take walks within our billeting area, and the village was our one source of “excitement”. One afternoon Longdon and I walked there, and had a good supper of eggs, coffee (tea is almost unknown around here) bread and butter and very good ginger bread cake. On the Sunday morning we marched to the Brigade Headquarters for a Divisional Inspection by the G.O.C, General E.A.H Alderson, who gave us all an address after Brigadier Curry, our Brigade Commander, had inspected us. Although only 8 or 9 miles from the firing line we heard tremendous cannonading on the British line which continued for many hours. We afterwards learnt that it had led to an advance on our part of 8 or 9 miles towards Lille, our objective. On the whole we had lovely weather, hot and cloudless sunshine. A couple of days before we left our billet several slight cases of German measles developed in our company, and, consequently, we were quarantined. On Friday, May 14th, we got orders to move our billets, and that night we marched out, linking up with the rest of the battalion at certain points. We marched all night, nearly 7 hours, and just before dawn reached our new billet, tired, and a good many of us footsore. However, we were allowed to sleep late into the morning, and we are now enjoying a day off. We are just outside another village, in a prettily situated farm standing amidst the most charming country. The barn we are in this time is much more light and comfortable, and our platoon is by itself here in charge by our Sergeant. There is a small orchard at the back with the trees all in blossom, and the extensive meadows around are carpeted with buttercups and daisies. Although the country is very flat, it is pretty, well wooded and very thickly settled, red tiled farmhouses being dotted all over the landscape. All the meadows are intersected by small ditches of more or less stagnant water, the drainage of this flat country being very poor; but the soil is well farmed and the crops look promising, and the stock in general appear in good condition. When we got up on Sunday morning we received orders to fall in at 9am in full marching order for the front, some 12 or more miles away. We marched off to company headquarters where we stood-to for further orders, and here we have been all day (close upon 6pm) still awaiting orders. At 9pm last night orders were received at our Brigade Headquarters for us to move off at once to the firing line at La Bassee to support a British advance, but it was countermended at once. Since writing the above we have been in the trenches and received our Baptism of Fire. We moved up from Robeq on Monday to Feslobes where we bivouacked anyhow in a big farmhouse which was already filled with troops, an ammunition supply column from Secunderabad. The following day we moved still further up towards the firing line, and camped in a straw loft of a small barn, and on Wednesday night we came in here, a partly ruined, deserted farmstead, barely a mile back from the firing line. On Thursday evening just before dusk a hundred men out of my company were detailed for fatigue duty in the trenches, and I and my section were amongst them. We marched off in greatcoats and full kit. Between our billet and the trenches lay the village of Festubert, which must have been quite a pretentious place before the war, but now it is a mere scattered heap of ruined houses, and it is necessary for all reinforcements to pass through the village in order to gain the trenches. The Germans know this and constantly shell the place in hopes of blowing up any troops. As we neared an open part of the village we were told to double which we did, escaping a couple of heavy shells by the skin of our teeth.” (not completed due to being wounded by shrapnel shortly after)

Ross Edwards






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