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World War 1 One ww1 wwII greatwar great 1914 1918 first battalion regiment
Capt. A. Davis
South African Service Corps
from:Chatsworth Siding, S. Rhodesia
(d.3rd December 1918)
Captain Davis was the Son of George and Elizabeth Davis, of 38, Albert Avenue, Newport, England; husband of Adeline Frances Davis, of Farm Ndawe, Chatsworth Siding, S. Rhodesia.
He was 34 and is buried in the Dukambane Farm Cemetery, Hluhluwe, Kwazulu Natal, South Africa.
L/Cpl. Albert Victor Davis
British Army 12th Btn. Gloucestershire Reg
from:Tytherington, Glos
(d.22 April 1917)
Albert Davis´s parents were Thomas and Emily of no.2 The Crossings, Tytherington, Glos. His father worked at Tytherington quarry as an engine driver. Albert was one of nine children, four boys and five girls. Before joining the war effort Albert was quarryman at the local quarry and had been a member, as had a younger brother, of the Tytherington Junior Band. (pictured in a photo of the band in 1913). He was aged 17 when he enlisted, with his two older brothers, in 1915 at Bristol. His brothers survived the war. Albert's death appeared a newspaper casualties list, six weeks after he was killed. He has no known grave but is commemorated on the Arras Memorial.
Sto1 Alexander Davis
Royal Navy HMS Foyle
from:Edgehill, Liverpool
(d.15th March 1917)
Stoker 1st Class Davis was the husband of Mary F. Martin (formerly Davis), of 12, Lissant St., Edgehill, Liverpool.
He was 42 when he died and is buried in plot D.153 in the Drogheda (Calvary) Catholic Cemetery, Drogheda, Co. Louth, Ireland.
Bert Davis
British Army 9th Lancers
from:Heath, Wolverhampton
I'm in search of a soldier, Bert Davis, born on 24th of February 1894 in Heath Town, Wolverhampton to Thomas Davis and Mary Shaw. Probably Thomas Davis & Mary lived at Barnes, London, at the outbreak of the first World War.) Bert served with the 9th Lancers and was wounded by shrapnel in the knee or spine, in or around the vicinity of Ypres. He had a daughter named Daphne.
As you can see, I don't have much information to work with. His Granddaughter lives now in the Netherlands and is searching for information about her Grandfather. It seems that after WWI all of the documents where burnt by her Grandmother in the yard due to malcontent about all of the atrocities that happened on the front.
Bandsman. Charles George Davis
British Army 4th Btn. Devonshire Regiment
from:Exeter
My Great Uncle Charles Davis's journal of August 1914.
Bandsman. C. G. Davis. 4th Devonshire Regiment. Gaugh Barracks. Ferozepore. Punjab. India.
Dear Mother and Father
Just a few reminiscences of my trip to India with the 4th Devons. I have written down all most everything that has happened from July 25th to Nov 14th and I hope it will interest you.
It was on July 25th that I left home to do the usual fortnights training on Woodbury Common with the Band of the 4th Devons. This was my second camp and I know that I was looking forward to it very much, especially as there was a Ă‚ÂŁ1 bounty promised to men who did the whole 15 days, but I never thought that before I went home to work again, I should travel so much as I have done. After we had been in Camp for a few days we heard that trouble had arose between Germany and France, and before the first week had elapsed war was declared between these two countries, and owing to a very bad move on the German side, England was drawn into it. The Germans, in order to get to France invaded Belgium, a neutral power, thus breaking a certain treaty that England had signed, together with, Russia, France, Belgium, Germany and Italy, therefore it lay with England to resist the trespassers and uphold Belgium, and it was on the Monday night that we declared war with Germany. I went to bed with the rest of the chaps, and we were all talking excitedly about the war, when all of a sudden we had orders to strike camp. Corporal Clements brought the order into us and it was some time before he could convince us that it was right. Any rate at 10 o'clock we started to take down the tents and after making some big bonfires with the rubbish we stood round and sang hymns, until we were tired right out, and then some of us snatched a few hours sleep.
The next day (Aug 4th) we were mobilised and all that day we hung about in the boiling sun until about 6 o'clock, when we marched off of the Common for Exeter. We were told nothing as to the whereabouts of our destination and this made us feel very funny as we marched along the roads. People cheered us as we went along and waved Union Jacks, and I am sure that I was not the only one who felt a lump rise in his throat. We reached Exeter about 9 o'clock, and we had a grand reception there. The Exonians had been waiting all day for us to come, and as soon as we were on the outskirts of Heavitree, they filled the streets. I was looking out for Mother and Father as soon as I reached Gladstone Rd, and I was afraid of my life that I should not see them, but when I had come to the Tram Depot and I caught sight of them, and had a bit of a chat as I marched up Paris Street. Here the streets were simply packed and I must say we felt very proud of ourselves as we went through High Street and Queen Street. When we got down to St David's Hill the crowd pressed so thickly that we were completely broken up. We were playing the Regimental Marches at the time, and I soon found that I was playing all by myself, and I happened to catch sight of the cornet player a long way off; where the drummer was I couldn't say, any rate when we got to the station I managed to have another chat with Mother and Father and wish them Good Bye and then entered the station.
We had to wait on the platform for an hour in our wet uniforms and when we got into the train they gave us a banana. What we wouldn't have given for a decent feed. We steamed out of the station at 10.30pm and after having a bit of sleep reached Plymouth (North Road Station) at 1.30am on the Wednesday morning (Aug 4th) and lined up outside. There was still a thick drizzle in the air, and after marching through Plymouth and Devonport we came to the ferry. We were wet through and tired, and hungry, and as miserable as we could be. I am describing this trip a bit in detail because I don't think I shall ever forget it. I was bad myself and was walking two-double most of the way, but I stuck it to the end. After we had crossed over the ferry and had formed up in Torpoint we started marching again, with all sorts of ideas as to how far we had to go. By this time we had found out that we were bound for some fort or other and it turned out that we had to go 7 miles. How I did it I don't know. Once we stopped for 5 minutes and I laid down on the wet grass and I was nearly off to sleep when I was roused again. Another time I was so done up that I did not know what I was doing of, and shouted out to the Adjutant to stop, but by the time the darkness had lifted we had reached Tregantle Fort, and after the ranks had been served out with ammunition we were told off to our different rooms and were soon fast asleep. We had the day off next day in order to pull round a bit. The fort had the appearance of a big prison from the outside, but the rooms inside were very cosy. We happened to have the best room in the fort. It was the room where the permanent staff used to live, and there were saucepans and frying pans there, and a lovely big fireplace, and from the window we could look out across the Channel and see Eddystone Lighthouse, and very often two or three cruisers. The ranks spent most of the time in trench digging. I put myself under the Doctor while I was there, but he did not seem to be able to cure the pains that I used to get in my stomach, so that really I did not enjoy myself as much as I could have done if I had been well.
We stayed there until Aug 9th (6 days) when we packed up again and marched off about 4 o'clock in the afternoon. It was Sunday, and the weather was nice and fine so we did the 7 miles back to Torpoint a bit different to which we did before. As we neared Torpoint, people stood at their doorways with plates of cake and butter for us, and after crossing the ferry again we marched through Devonport and Plymouth to Millbay Station, this time followed by hundreds of people. We entrained, and we were taken to Salisbury Plain, stopping at Exeter for about 10 minutes at 10.30pm, and reaching Tidworth 1 o'clock in the morning on Aug 10th. We marched to Perham Down, a distance of 2 miles and pitched our camp at 7.30am. All that day, other battalions came, and the camp soon grew to the size of a small town. The camp was 1½ miles from Ludgershall, a small village, and 2 miles from Tidworth the second largest barracks in England. Ludgershall was not what you could call a very clean place, but it was a little change from the Downs. Tidworth on the other hand, was very clean, and the few business shops that were there, took off the barrenness of the barracks. There were places of worship there for all denominations, and the services were very good. After being in camp for 4 or 5 days, I was advised by the doctor to go to Tidworth Military Hospital, in order that I should be able to have milk diet, which he had ordered for me, the stomach pains not getting any better. I was in bed for a week and they started me on milk diet, and gradually gave me more solid food, until I was alright again. While I was there the ward filled up with cases. There were six beds, and I was in the end one, then came Dick Whittington, a regular of the 9th Lancers, with a kick on a shin bone by a horse, then an artillery territorial, with a broken collarbone; and on the other side a bandsman of the 13th Hussars, with a bullet wound through the arm, a 6th Devon service suffering from varicose veins, and another 13th Hussar chap with a fractured rib. I shall never forget when Dick Whittington's mates came up and wished him Good Bye before they went to the Front, he nearly cried at his bad luck at not being able to go with his chums. It was the 9th Lancers who did such good work later on in the war, led by Captain Grenfell. I stayed in Hospital a fortnight altogether, and when I went back to the camp I found that the chaps were getting on A1; the grub, which hadn't been up to much before, having been altered, and after a while I got as well as anybody again.
All the time we were on the Plains we trained hard but this did not prevent us from having an occasional outing. On Saturday Sept 19th I went to Southampton, with Reg Keen, Reg Mears, Bill Miles, Percy Call, and Bill Baxter, and had a jolly good time there. All this time the War was getting worse and worse, and Lord Kitchener, who was now Head of Affairs, was sending British Troops across to France as quickly and quietly as possible. Russia had now joined forces with England, and the Four Powers became known as the Allied Forces. Austria had also come in, fighting with the Germans. We were expecting all sorts of things but it was not until Aug 29th that we were asked to volunteer for foreign service. The Colonel addressed us on our parade ground, and on the following Sunday General Donald addressed us after Church Parade on the Regimental Parade Ground. He told us that the idea of volunteering for foreign service was that we should go to such places as Malta, Gibraltar, or India in order to relieve the regular forces and enable them to go to the front. Only two of the band refused to volunteer, Dick Snow and Walter Boucher.
On Sept 1st we played at the Battalion Sports, in which there was a Bandsmans Race. We had to run, playing a tune on our instruments, and strange to say Bert Heagarty came in first with the big drum. On Sept 5th the volunteers and non-volunteers were separated. The non-volunteers or Home Defence Battalion as they were called, camped about a Ă‚ÂĽ of a mile further down the road. On Sept 15th all the Brigade were inspected by Lord Kitchener and on the 24th we were told that we had been selected to go to India. This came as a surprise to us, because we were expecting to shift to another camp about 17 miles away, the transport section having gone on. They were fetched and told to return and on the next day we had another surprise. After coming in from the early morning parade, we were told that we could have three days leave before going to India. One half of the battalion went home from Friday morning (Sept 25th) until Monday morning, and the other half from Monday until Thursday. I went with the first half and got home about half past four in the afternoon. I had a good time home, but could have done with a little more leave. I left Exeter 8.30 on Monday morning and got into camp just in time to be inspected by the King and Queen. The Royal Horse Guards, who were doing special training near our camp, were all turned out galloping and charging about in sections with drawn swords. They looked very fine, and there were about a dozen aeroplanes flying about as well. After going back to our tents the 2nd half of the battalion went home on leave and I felt a bit miserable, but next night we went into the fair at Ludgershall and had a good time and got rid of all our homesickness. Things went on alright again after the other chaps came back, and the general routine for the day was as follows, Rise at 6am Swedish Drill 6-45; Breakfast; Stretcher Drill and Lecture on First Aid from 9-30 to 12-30; Dinner; and Band Practice in the afternoon.
On October 2nd the battalion was reduced from 1021 to 800, every company having to go to India 100 strong. This meant a lot of disappointment to some, and out of the band, there were two who did not come with us. They were Billy Slim, the bassoon player, and George Flood, the bass trombone, and they went down with the Home Defence Battalion with Dick Snow and Walter Boucher. Young Billy Baxter was also sent down there. I was fitted out with equipment, and all the band had to have rifles and bayonets. All this time there were all sorts of rumours flying about as to whether we should really go or not, and chaps were buying cholera belts and all sorts of things. The home defences left the Downs on Monday (Oct 5th) for Exmouth and Budleigh Salterton, and Billy Slim, who was very much cut up at not being able to go with us to India, had a farewell bust up in No 1 tent, on the Sunday night. The next two days we had lectures about embarkation etc, and on Thursday (Oct 8) we were inspected by Lord Kitchener again. We smartened up and paraded in full kit, the band taking rifles. He came about 11 o'clock and inspected us the same as he did before. He said that he was very much pleased with the general bearing of the men and he delivered a message from the King saying that His Majesty was much indebted to us for taking up duties in India. We cheered him off again at half past eleven and returned to camp.
The next day we cleaned up the camp and at 10 o'clock in the morning (Oct 9th) we marched to Tidworth Station, carrying our full kit, and rifles, our instruments and our kit bags, and entrained for Southampton Docks, which we reached at 1-30. Here we were joined by three other bandsmen, thus making the band up to 26. There were several new members who came from the Yeomanry band; they were, Bob Dean, Jimmy Wellsman, Bob Kendall, Bert Blackmore, and Ern Skewes, and later on we had another side-drummer (P Lowman) and a horn player, (Cpl Dart). We marched onto the ship and, after storing our rifles and kit bags, we were shown round to our different messes. The ship was called the 'Nevassa', (Glasgow), His Majesty's Transport, 9500 tons and had a speed of 15 knots. The messes were under the main deck. I was on No 89 mess, and we had our first dinner at 6 o'clock. At 8.30 we fell in and drew our hammocks which we slung up over the tables. It was a fine spree in the night when the chaps were trying to get into them. Some fell out over the other side, and others fell down altogether, not having tied the knots securely. Turning in the nighttimes was always an exciting time right through the voyage. I slept very well and was lucky enough not to fall out at all. They were very comfortable to sleep in, and the two thick blankets that we were served out with them kept us lovely and warm. While we were asleep the ship left the docks and when we awoke in the morning we found ourselves out of sight of land with five or six other big transports a little way off. We did not do any work the first day and in fact we did not do much all the voyage. In the afternoon we had a string band practise and in the evening we played in the saloon. The string band was an idea of the bandmasters (Mr Kendle) and it turned out to be a very good idea. There were ten (crossed out) twelve of us in it altogether, the order being 1st Violins. Bob Kendle, Reid Young. 2nd Violins. Billy Taverner, Bill Miles. 1st Cornet. Bill Davis. Viola. P. Plowman. 2nd Cornet. Reg. Keen. 1st Clarinet. Jimmy Wellsman. 2nd Clarinet. C. Davis. Bassoon. Ern. Curtis. Oboe. Billy Thompson Flute Reg. Mears. Trombone. Johnny Duguid. String Bass. Bob Duguid.
We used to play at Officers Mess when the military band did not play, and the band soon improved. We were told that we should probably be in the Bay of Biscay by the next morning, but we might have been anywhere for all could tell, as there was nothing but sea all around us. I got up about 6 o'clock and went out on deck and had a good cup of tea from one of the crew. The crew were mostly natives, lascars I think they were called, and they did all the swabbing etc on the ship. They were a very dirty lot at the best of times, and it was quite amusing to watch them eat their meals and do their work. They were very artful as well, because they got in a good stock of cigarettes and chocolates at Southampton and when we were out at sea they sold it us and the prices were something awful, but we were glad to give anything for it later on. On the Sunday we had a Church Parade, the military playing, and during the service we saw several sharks rise out of the water, and once we saw a whale spouting. By this time we had been joined by ten other transport ships the names being:–Alnwick Castle; Kenilworth Castle; Dunluce Castle; Braemar Castle; Cawdor Castle; Thongwa; Ultonia; Galeka; Ingona; and the Assaye; and all this convoy was escorted by two cruisers; the Bacchante and the Euralyus. We travelled in the same formation almost throughout all the voyage. There were three lines of us and the two cruisers were always on the look-out for other vessels. Sometimes they would sail right out of sight and do a bit of scouting and join us again further on. We were still going through the Bay of Biscay on Monday and the sea was lovely and calm. We found out afterwards that we had been very fortunate in escaping a big storm for only two days. On Tuesday we rounded Cape Finister in Spain and later in the day we passed Cape St Vincent. It rained all the day and the awnings were put up for us to get under. The ship started rocking very much and some of the chaps had a rather bad time of it, but we all brightened up the next day (Oct 14th) when we sighted land. We caught sight of it first on our left and later on our right, and everybody got excited although we had only been on the water for 5 days. It was the coast of Spain on our left and the hills looked lovely with the sun shining on them. As we got nearer and further into the Straits of Gibraltar we could distinguish towns and clumps of trees. We could also see the coast of Africa now, on our right, and after a while we were all looking out for the famous Rock of Gibraltar. We caught sight of this at 1 o'clock and when we got right opposite to it, the ship stopped and we had a lovely view of it. We could see the town and the great battlements all round with the big guns poking out. It looked very formidable, stuck up in the sea. After dinner a small boat put off from one of the cruisers, with about 20 jack tars in it, and went round to every ship in the convoy and collected the letters. While they were doing this the cruisers drifted quite near our ship and all the blue jackets came on board and we cheered each other until we were hoarse. We started sailing again at 8 o'clock while we were playing a programme on the promenade deck, and in the evening at 7 o'clock we were out of sight of land and sailing through the Mediterranean.
We sailed without any escort until we got to Suez, I suppose the Military or Naval authorities knew pretty well every boat that was inside the Mediterranean Sea. The next day was very wet in the morning but cleared off again in the afternoon, when the Algerian Coast came into view. The country looked very rugged but at the same time very picturesque, especially when the sun came out and shone on the sides of the mountains. In the evening it started raining again, and at about 8.30 after Officers Mess, lightening began to flash and to light up everything for miles around. It was a wonderful sight, one minute we were in pitch darkness and the next was as light as day. Many of the chaps stopped on deck until late that night in order to see Algeria the capital of Algiers, which we passed at 11.30P.M. Of course we could not see any buildings, or anything like that, except when the lightening flashed; all we did see were thousands of little lights twinkling in the darkness.
We band chaps were now given permission to go on the promenade deck anytime, and we used to sit about up there all day and sleep there in the nights. We could manage to get all sorts of things such as iced drinks, chocolate, and milk of the barman, as the Officers bar was on the same deck, and if it hadn't been for these privileges we should have had a much more miserable voyage than we did. We kept near the coast all the next day through the kindness of the Captain and gazed upon some lovely scenes. On October 17th we passed a French torpedo boat in the morning and later in the day cheered a French Cruiser. We saw sailing boats and steamers very frequently then, and it made it seem less monotonous. The next morning we sighted land again on our right, having left it for a while the previous day, and at 8.30A.M, we were entering the harbour of Malta. One would never think at a distance that it was such a fine place as it really is. All the houses are big with verandahs in front and are made of a yellow kind of rock. The harbour was crowded with little boats, built like gondolas, and there were a couple of warships there. We saw the battlements and the high wireless installation. It was a very pretty sight, and we could hear the church bells ringing for early service. We were very fortunate to have been able to enter the harbour and see the town (Valetta) so close. We should have gone right on if it hadn't been for a 5th Devon chap who was suffering from Pneumonia, having to be taken off the ship. While we were waiting for the Hospital ship to come, numbers of Maltese tradesmen came out in their boats selling fruit, haberdashery and tobacco. They threw us up a rope and we drew the things up the side of the vessel. The cigarettes they sold were very cheap but when the chaps started smoking them they soon found out their mistake. They used to smell like rubber burning. After staying in the harbour for bout an hour, the ship turned round and sailed out again while the band played the Russian, French and English National Airs. We had to hang about a good time outside in order to let all the other Transports get into line again.
Three cruisers accompanied us for a little way, and we were soon well out to sea again. On Oct 19th all the band was inoculated for the second time and of course that meant another three days holiday. I did not get at all bad with it and was very soon as right again as ever. During the next two days we were issued with deck shoes, and drill uniforms and sun helmets, but were not allowed to wear it. Frank Roseter, who was a bit run down went into the Hospital for a few days. The next day (22nd) was very exciting for us all. Early in the morning we saw the sight of the sun rising over Palestine, and a few hours later we saw hundreds of little ships with white sails. I believe they were fishing boats. At 7 o'clock we sighted land which of course was Port Said, and we had a splendid scene as we got nearer, especially as we were entering the huge harbour. We passed the statue of Ferdinand-de-Lessops, the man who designed the construction of the Suez Canal, standing up on the breakwater, and the first big building we saw on the shore was the hotel with “Dewar's Whiskey” written up over. We thought this was very funny. Going into the docks we passed hundreds of ships of all sorts and sizes, and numerous coaling barges with natives running about on them. The houses were very large on the shore and flat roofed. We passed the Custom House and saw hundreds of natives working, of all nationalities. Some were Egyptians, and some Algerians, but most were Arabs. They were dressed in long flowing robes with turbans wound around their heads, and at a distance it was hard to distinguish men from woman. All the Transports lay in the docks side by side, and two ships away from us was the Dunluce Castle with the 4th Wessex R.F.A . on board. I had some conversation with some of the chaps on board by semaphore signalling. Crowds on natives came alongside the vessel selling fruit and all sorts and some were allowed on board. The decks were covered in orange peel and paper, and we were so excited that many of us forgot to go down and have our dinners. All the time this was going on the natives were coaling the vessel and it was very amusing to watch them. They brought two big flat coal-barges alongside our ship and fixed up with two or three planks to run along on, and they carried the coal in baskets on their head. There were about a hundred of them altogether, and they kept on the run up and down the planks all the time shouting and raving for all they were worth. They only had loin cloths on and talk about being black, why they were pitch dark. While we were there a British warship passed us, it was the “Warrior”, and we played Rule Brittania to them, and their band struck up “Its a long way to Tipperary”. We cheered them and there were a lot of Devonshire chaps on board because they shouted “Up Argylle”, and of course we chimed in with “Up City”. In the evening an old school chum of mine, Art Lethereve, came on board from the “Warrior” with a couple of other Marines, and we had a nice little chat. It was not until 7.30P.M that we moved off, we were playing at Mess. Of course we had to go through the Suez Canal now, and we were a bit disappointed at first because we thought that we should miss some good sights through the night, but when we woke up next morning we found that we hadn't gone far. It was a lovely day and the Canal was as smooth as a piece of glass, and on each side of us was long stretches of desert land. We kept passing gangs of native workers who were employed on the canal, and we saw them working camels and mules.
Sometimes we would come to a sort of village place, where there were groups of bungalows and palm trees and these looked very pretty. The canal widens out in some places like a big lake, and here we passed various ships; some pleasure-boats and others, big dredging barges. We also passed a Transport of Indian Troops and Highland Light Infantry going to France. The canal is about ninety miles in length and we reached the end, where the town of Suez lies, at half-past-four, and of course the band turned out and played some more National Airs as various battleships passed us. We were getting quite use to this kind of playing now, and although it was the same old tunes we played every time, it livened things up a bit. We passed the town and an hour later entered the Red Sea, where we had to stop waiting for an escort for 3 days. The cruisers we were waiting for were engaged in escorting 1200 Australians to Marseilles and of course they were more important than us. All the rest of the Transports anchored around and it looked very pretty indeed to see them all lit up in the evenings. The Egyptians came out from the town in their boats selling wares, and to pass away the time the Captain gave us the use of the small boats. We went out for a row in different sections, about thirty of us could get into one boat. When I went out, we went round and visited the other Transports and when we came back we had the surprise of our lives. We were told that the Officers were going ashore and that the band had to go as well and play a programme, so we togged up in our drill uniforms and helmets and at about 8.30P.M we boarded a steam-launch, the private property of the Chief of the Police at Suez, and after a nice half-an-hour trip, landed, the first time since we left England. We were as excited as a lot of school-children, and couldn't realise at all that we were actually standing on the shores of Egypt. We fell in and marched through several streets and passed a lot of quaint little houses and eventually came to a big hotel called the Bell-Air, where we pitched our stands, sort of German Band style. Of course a crowd soon collected but were kept at a respectable distance by the native police, who were dressed in white uniforms with little red Turkish hats. We played “The Chocolate Soldier” selection, and “Morning, Noon and Night” Overture and several other items, finishing up with “Tipperary” March by special request of the Europeans that were there, and who had never heard it before. The programme was much appreciated especially as we were the first English band ever to play there. After having some refreshments we all took a stroll round the town. We saw two or three opium dens with the men inside fast asleep, and we saw the people in their Church praying, and going through all sorts of gestures. I went into a restaurant with some other chaps and tried to get a feed, but by the time we had made him understand what we wanted it was pretty near time to go back. Any rate we got something hot eventually and it was very tasty but now none of us felt incline to inquire very closely as to what it was. I expect it was a piece of dog or a chop from a camel's hump. The natives were dressed in long flowing robes of all colours, just like you see them in Bible Pictures, and the women were covered in black gowns, something like our Sisters of Mercy at home, but with only two holes for the eyes to look out and one for the node. On their nose they had a piece of wood fixed, what for I don't know. There was an amusing little incident which took place while we were playing the programme, that I should like to mention. We heard a lot of shouting going on, and on looking round we saw four or five Jack Tars mounted on donkeys and coming down the street full speed, shouting at the top of their voices. You can just fancy what a sight it was, to see these English sailors galloping about on donkeys in an Egyptian town. We returned to the launch again at 7.30P.M, and after singing Auld Lang Syne to some of the Highland Light Infantry who were stationed there and who had gone round the town with us, we steamed back to the “Nevassa” and were soon fast asleep again in our hammocks.
The next day (Tuesday Oct 27th) we started sailing again at 9A.M, our escort having returned. It was now very hot, and during the next few days we did not know what to do with ourselves. We lay about on deck with just our trousers and vests on and then we couldn't get cool. How the people could work there I don't know. We used to sweat all day, and go to bed sweating, and wake up next morning doing the same thing. The deck used to get all most too hot stand on in bare feet although there were two big awnings over everything. We used to do all our physical drill in bare feet then. It was a good job that we could get hold of some iced drinks or else I believe we should have melted into grease spots. We took 5 days to go through the red sea and nothing exciting happened. I think it would have been too much trouble for us to take any interest in it if there had been.
On the 28th in the afternoon we passed a convoy of Transports with Indian troops on board bound for France. We were too far apart to play the band. On the 31st we passed twelve big rocks rising out of the sea, and they were called the 12 Apostles. We were shown the place where the waters were divided to let the Children of Israel pass over, but did not see Mount Sinai as we passed it in the night. The temperature that day was 124 in the sun, almost warm enough for toasting. The next day was Sunday, Nov 1st and we sighted land on our left and after Church Parade we passed through what the called the Gates of Hell. I suppose it is called that name because it is the entrance to the Red Sea, a very warm place indeed. We then came to the town of Aden which is right at the bottom of the Read Sea, and here we stopped until next day, while all the Convoy collected together again. The scenery all round was very rugged and picturesque. We saw some of the native crew bring sheep on board and kill them, it being one of their feasts, and of course their Mohomedan religion forbids them to eat any meat unless killed by their own hands. We also saw a very interesting figure; a jet black ni**er with a proper ginger beard and hair. We moved off again at 5.30P.M, and after witnessing some pretty scenery left the coastline altogether and started sailing right out to sea, on our last voyage to Karachi. We were in the Indian Ocean now, and orders were issued for all lights to be out, so you can guess what a miserable time we had nigh times, especially now that the nights got dark very early, there being no twilight like there is at home. Some of the sunsets though were marvellous. You could never describe them, and you can never see them anywhere else but on the ocean, where there are no obstacles in the way and the sea touches the sky. We saw a rainbow once and it was glorious.
On Nov 4th Major Anstey treated the band to a drink, and on the 5th, Bonefire Day we had a fire drill just for old time's sake I suppose. We all thought of home that day and the fires that we had the year before.
On the 7th we had a very sad ceremony to go through. A young chap called Phillimore of the 5th Devons had died with Rheumatic fever the night before and was buried about 8 o'clock in the morning. I don't know whether I have mentioned it before, but there were two Battalions on board, the 4ths and the 5ths . The fourths were in the stern of the ship and the fifths in the bows. This young chap had ben sleeping on deck absolutely naked, and although it was a very cool way of sleeping, we had been warned by the Officers that it was very dangerous, and that we should do the opposite thing altogether and wrap up well. We all paraded at quarter to eight, and after a little while, the body, which was sewn up in a sail-cloth, was wheeled in and the shafts of the conveyance were rested on the rails of the main deck on the port side, and the whole thing was covered with the Union Jack. The Captain of the ship took the service and I must say it was about the most impressive service that I have ever attended. We could not help thinking of the mother at home thinking he was quite all right, when he was actually being buried. Nearing the end of the service, two ships officers tipped the body into the sea, and all we heard was a big splash. The Buglers then sounded the Last Post and we were dismissed. It is needless for me to say that the affair hung about in our minds for many days afterwards. I expect the Officers cabled to the parents and sent their sympathy, but it must have been an awful blow for them, not even a grave to remember him by. I am glad to say that nothing like this occurred again during the rest of the voyage, although, it was marvellous how we all kept from any disease, seeing how many were on board for so long. We were told that on the Assaye, three of the Cornwalls had been buried.
We were expecting to be at Karachi next morning, Sunday, but owing to the delays we had had, we had to stay on board. The next day (9th) we left the rest of the Convoy, after going within 20 miles of Bombay and headed straight for Karachi, the only other ship accompanying us being the “Galeka”, with the 6th Devons on board. We travelled 300 miles the next day and at 8.30 in the morning on the 11th we anchored just outside Karachi. We went into the huge Docks at 8.30A.M, and after two gangways had been put into place, our Officers went on shore. Just opposite to us there were a number of native soldiers sleeping under a big shelter and we saw a lot of Regular soldiers, The Connaught Rangers, who had left the Ferozepore station about a week before. The main Battalion had gone to the Front but these were left behind to sort of show us around the place, and they helped us a good deal. The docks were an enormous size and there seemed to be hundreds of big cranes all over the place. The town of Karachi was three miles away from here, so that we did not see anything of that. We were very disappointed when we heard that we had to stop on board for another day, especially as we had scrubbed up all the Mess tables, and cleaned all the crockery, and stored away the hammocks, but after dinner we were allowed to go on shore and roam about independently. It was a treat to fell ourselves all safe and sound again on dry land and I took the first opportunity that I had of sending home a postcard. There was a sort of market place there, where we could buy pretty well anything, and also a big refreshment place that was run in conjunction with the Royal Army Temperance Association, so you can just guess how we fed ourselves up. We weren't allowed out of the docks but as everything we saw was new, we were very interested. We returned to the “Nevasa” at 4.30 for tea although I don't think any of us needed it, but of course meals are recorded as parades in the Army. At 5.30 we fell in, and marched a little distance to a big open piece of country where there was a general parade, of the 4ths and the 5ths Devons. We played the Regiment Marches going out and this was very interesting as it was the first thing that the band played in India. The General and some Staff Officers inspected us and I believe they were favourably impressed. Of course they were very anxious to see what sort of men Territorials were, none having ever been to India before, so I expect they gave us a good inspection. We marched back to the ship again to the march of Argandab, and after putting our instruments away, went on shore again.
It was nearly dark now and most of the chaps went into the R.A.F.A place where some of our chaps were giving a bit of a concert. It was very good entertainment and amongst other items, Bill Davis gave the “rosary”on his cornet. The place was simply packed and to finish up with, we had a splendid speech by the R.A.F.A chap there, about the numerous dangers that existed in India regarding health matters; intemperance, especially. Then the Colonel who happened to be there, spoke a few words, backing him up and after singing the “King” we returned to the ship. During the concert , I believe there were a couple of hundred chaps who signed the pledge, so you see it was not in vain. We were issued with two blankets when we got back and were told that they would be ours during our stay in India. The next morning we were up very early getting everything ready to entrain for Ferozepore. We were helped a lot by the Connaught Rangers, who came with us, and who stayed at Ferozepore for about 7 weeks after we arrived. They saw that we weren't rushed at all by the native shopkeepers, although we were gradually getting used to dealing with them ourselves now. Well, we boarded the train at 11.30A.M, and said Goodbye to the Sea and the Nevasa for a time, and after two and a half day's travelling we reached our destination. The trains are very much different to ours in England. The engines seem to be all right but the carriages appear to be all windows. Of course this would be all right in really hot weather, but it was winter now in India, and all though it’s not a bit like our winter, it comes in bitter cold at nights, and we had to shut up the shutters which left us in all most total darkness, the shutters being made of wood instead of glass. Then again, the seats are arranged longways and you sit in the middle looking out sideways. Our engine must have been an old stager, because it did not travel very fast any of the way, but some of the Mail trains that we passed had lovely big engines, just like we have in England.
The first day of our journey we travelled a fair distance, and passed through miles of barren country. Sometimes we passed jungles, but the country mostly was desert. We stopped at numerous stations and were served out with bully beef for dinner, and jam and tea for tea. The tea was made all ready for us at the stations by the natives, and the officers had along table on the platform and had a proper dinner. Of course every station we came to was interesting to us, the different castes of the natives and their homes. We turned in about nine o'clock, some of us sleeping on the seats and some on the racks overhead. I slept very well all through the nights, we had got used to the shaking about and the noise. Soon after we awoke next morning we came to a station and got out and fell in for hot tea and bread and cheese. We made a pretty good meal and were soon off again. We managed to have a wash up on the train which made us feel a bit fresher. We travelled all the day and went through the same routine as the day before, and the country was about the same. We spent another night in the train and had a bit of breakfast again next morning. We passed a lot more stations and the country seemed to be more fertile now. We saw large fields of sugar cane and rice etc, and at 12 o'clock we drew up into the station of Ferozepore Casitonment, having passed the City Station three miles back. Then commenced the greatest reception that we ever had.
The place was crammed full of natives all dressed in their best clothes which are very gaudy, and here and there were a sprinkling of Europeans. Directly we stepped out of the train we had garlands of flowers put round our necks and helmets, and we noticed that the place was trimmed up lovely with flags and banners and a triumphal arch with “Welcome” written above. We fell in with our companies and filed our arms and then marched around the platform to where we were given each a bottle of pop, a bun, a cigar and a cigarette. Then the band fell in and we marched to the Barracks, a distance of three miles, blowing for all we were worth and feeling as swanky as I don't know what. The roads were lined with natives shouting and waving flags, and as we went along, roses and flowers were thrown over our heads. The crowds followed us right up to the Barracks, and here we were dismissed and told off to our different bungalows. We must have looked pretty objects walking along with these flowers hanging round our necks. We learned afterwards that all the school children had been given a holiday and in fact it was a general holiday all round. The Regular Soldiers said that was never such a reception given to soldiers before, so that we thought ourselves very fortunate. When we got our bungalow we found a good dinner waiting for us, and needless to say we did not keep it waiting very long. It was the first good meal that we had had, since when we went home for our three days leave, and I can tell you we gave it socks. We drew our bedding etc., from the stores and turned into bed pretty early as we were about done up. Then started a new kind of life for us all, a life in Barracks and I'll tell you all about that in another letter.
Looking back over the voyage, there are a few interesting things to note down. Of course we had a marvellous calm journey all the way, and really none of us aught to have been upset at all. It wasn't the pitching too and fro of the vessel, but the rolling from side to side that did all the damage. The food was absolutely rotten the whole way, although it did get a bit better towards the end, but generally speaking it was as bad as could be. The first week on board was the worse, as most of the chaps were either sick or had splitting headaches. The butter they gave us was as briny as anything, and was served up almost like oil, and the bread was just as bad. There was all ways a peculiar taste with it, like as if it had turned sour, and the very smell of it was enough to make anyone feel sick. There was one consolation though; we generally had a decent dinner and that was the only real meal that we did have. The worst of it was, we did not have our own cooks, but those of the ship, and I believe they used to pinch our rations like one o'clock. They used to sell small cakes in the mornings and evenings and charge what they liked, and of course we had to buy them if we were hungry and I believe I was hungry all the time. The rations weren't sufficient and although we made complaints to the Officers who used to come round meal times, nothing was altered, so of course our chaps couldn't stick it any longer. They knew there must be something going wrong somewhere. Where did these cooks get their flour, and currants to make the cakes, and the tea and cocoa to sell? We knew good enough what we supposed to have, and we knew we weren't getting it, and after seeing that the Officers did not report it when we complained, we took the law into our own hands and one Sunday night we kicked up a deuce of a row. We had had sour bread and jam for breakfast and not a very good dinner that day and when it came to tea-time we found that there was nothing to draw but tea and that we had to eat sour bread. We were roused to such a pitch that we could have raided the Canteen, any rate we all went downstairs and kicked up as much row as possible and then went up on the promenade deck to where the Officers messed singing, “Starving, starving, starving; all ways darned well starving; first thing in the morning, till last last thing in the night.” (The tune is the same as hymn “holy, holy,holy.) One could not help laughing, although it was very serious. Some of the chaps who were near the Canteen shouted “Lets raid the place”, and if the chap inside hadn't been so quick in shutting the doors I believe they would have done it. After a little while Major Anstey came out and addressed us, and told us to go below and hat we should get something to eat as soon as possible. He was very much surprised I think, but of course he did not know the state of affairs as the Junior Officers had not reported it. Any rate they gave us some grub, and the rest of the voyage we had what we were entitled to, even if it wasn't quite up to the mark. Of course the voyage pulled most of the chaps down a good deal, but there were no serious illnesses on board. When we left Perham Down we were as fit as we could be, doing long route marches every other day and the physical drill every morning, so of course being penned up for five weeks on a boat was bound to make a difference. The health of the chaps on board though was remarkable. Just fancy sixteen hundred of us without the Officers and all the ships crew, living together in such a small place for such a long time and no disease spreading. It shows that the chaps were very clean, because disease spreads very quickly in the warmer climates. As I said before there were no serious illnesses except one and that was the chap who died in the 5th Devons, but his death was not through any disease. I think that most of us would rather have had more room though and I hope that when we travel again we shall only have one battalion on board.
Taking the voyage on the whole then, I don't think it was very bad; the lovely sights that we saw made up for the little hardships that we had to endure. The sunrises and the sunsets were magnificent, and we used to gaze at them spellbound. The next voyage will probably be for home and I am sure that we'll stick anything then.
Well, Dear Mother and Father, I think I have told you about all there is to tell now so will close with best love.
From Your Loving Son Charles.
Ferozepore. Punjab. India. Nov 15th 1914
Pte. Charles Henry Vincent Davis
British Army 2nd Btn. Devon Regiment
from:Clarence Park Rd., Boscombe, Bournemouth, Hants
Charlie's Memoirs of the 1914-1918 Great War by Charles Henry Vincent Davis
The Great War started in August 1914, when I was nearly fifteen years of age. Mother and Dad were naturally relieved that I was too young to join up, and anyway, everyone was saying that the war would be over by Christmas.
Contrary to expectations, however, it was not. It went on into the New Year... and on... and still on. By this time I was seventeen years old and conscription at eighteen had been in force for some time now, so Mother and Dad were getting worried. Most of my pals had already been called up and I felt the stirring of adventure in my blood, I wanted to go too. Dad refused to give his permission for me to volunteer, but I couldn't wait any longer. I went down to the recruiting office and enlisted. The sergeant didn;t ask to see my birth certificate, if you said you were eighteen that was that and the army grabbed me willingly. Mother and Dad could do nothing about it once I had joined.
Well, I went on the appointed day to the Law Courts in Bournemouth and found roughly thirty lads of about my own age who were waiting to go. After details of appearance such as colour of eyes and hair, height etc. we marched to Bournemouth Central Station and left in the charge of a recruiting sergeant, who took us by train to Winchester. At the Winchester Barracks we passed our medicals and were issued with our uniforms (2 suits) plus kit bag. Our civvie suits were then packed up and left to be sent to our respective homes.
After one night at the barracks we then went by train to Fovant Camp near Salisbury, in the charge of another recruiting sergeant. On arriving there, we found the camp over-filled with troops and some difficulty was found in supplying us with meals and sleeping accommodation. As we were there for only two days, it didn't seem to bother us very much. Two days later we went by train to Rollestone Camp on Salisbury Plain, where we remained until after Christmas when we had our first term of leave (7 days).
While at this camp, the chap in the bed next to me almost died one night from pneumonia. He was taken to hospital and returned about a month later, transferred to another company. He came when the hut was empty and stole various things including a pair of boots. We then went to his new quarters and were able to recover them.
Our Company Sergeant Major was disliked by us all. When a heavy snowfall came we all got some satisfaction from taking part in snowballing him.
Two newly made lance corporals were forcibly scrubbed in the wash house one day. They were expected to wash at Reveille but evidently thought that they were privileged in being NCOs.
Whilst on the Plain we did all necessary training including rifle drill and firing new rifles. Later, all arrangements were made for the whole battalion to go to Norwich, Norfolk for the remainder of the winter, where we were billeted in private houses. While there, I had my second taste of jankers (an official punishment for a minor breach of discipline, otherwise known as defaulters). It turned out quite well for me, as the only other chap also on jankers was recognised by the Provost Sergeant at the cavalry barracks, who was a friend of the boy's father in his home town. The result of this was that we were given a good tea in the Sergeant's Mess and were then free to go to the funfair in Norwich while the remainder of the company were engaged in night operations outside the town. A Scotsman in the cells at the cavalry barracks escaped one night by cutting through the roof bars near the guard-room. He was included in a draft due to go overseas but was not found for about 3 months. The corporal of the guard was courts martialled for allowing this escape and for allowing the prisoner's wife to enter the cells to see her husband (she evidently took him the saw). The others of us who were on guard duty were not called at the hearing. The corporal on Bath Parade was a nice enough fellow, but not really fitted for the job of NCO, being not particularly bright and rather young and immature. Anyhow, he was a decent chap really and quite well liked by us all, but the boys couldn't resist having a bit of fun at his expense. When he marched us down the road to the baths, which were about a mile away, they would usually make a point of singing And a Little Child Shall Lead Them... it was all good-humoured fun and it always raised a laugh. When the boys went on leave they were usually in exceptionally high spirits. So much so that they often caused a lot of damage to the carriages of their trains. These were then brought forward for their further use in the condition in which they had been left !
As the Spring approached we were sorry to leave Norwich when we moved to Taverham Camp, a few miles out, and were then under canvas. Although I enjoyed camp life, the continuous wet weather rather dampened our spirits. During this period, I was sent with other fellows to do guard duties at Kelling Camp, overlooking the North Sea at Cromer. At this time, large drafts of troops were being sent overseas and the time came for us to go. We were lucky to have four days leave, which gave us a couple of days at home. I did not mention going overseas to Mother, but she had her suspicions and asked me if I was on a draft leave. I admitted that I was but said I understood we would be going abroad to Italy, which was quite true, as we had been told this before coming on leave. On the fourth day I met the fellows also going back off leave and, after saying goodbye at home, we were on the return journey. Upon arriving at Waterloo, we hired a taxi and clubbed together for a sight-seeing trip around parts of London and later arrived at Liverpool Street station for the return journey to Norwich. Three days later we were on the train again, bound for Folkestone which was chock-full of troops waiting to go over. For some reason or another, I remember some of these regiments had to give up their rifle slings before embarking, but it did not apply in our case.
After a very rough crossing, in which we were escorted by destroyers and ourselves fitted out with life jackets, we made Boulogne where we were given a meal of sort. I remember that you could buy Players or Will's cigarettes at 10 for 2d, which now seems almost like a dream. Within a few hours we were on another train and soon found ourselves in the Reinforcement Depot at Etaples, France, where we camped under canvas. We found out that we had just missed a heavy bombing raid by only four hours, in which many troops and hospital nurses were killed. It was here at Etaples that I was very sorry to have to say goodbye to all the pals I had made at home and who had come with me, but my name and number was the very last on the draft list. Myself and one other fellow from my company were the only two to be sent to join a reinforcement detail in the 2nd Devon Regiment. We were able to shout and wave goodbye as we left, then we were on a troop train bound for Amiens where we arrived at night. At the time, a big battle was in progress on The Somme and we were in reserve to prevent a breakthrough. It seemed to go on forever without ceasing, the gunfire being deafening and the night lit up with gun flashes and Very lights.
The battalion was now made up to strength after a bad time at Villers Brettonia, and it was some relief to know that plans were being made for us to move to another front. In our case it turned out to be a French front and it meant quite a long troop train journey of roughly twelve hours before we arrived at a point some distance from the actual front. This meant that we had quite a bit of route marching to do. It was raining heavily when we left the train at 3 o'clock and marched until around 8 o'clock, when a halt was made for breakfast by the side of the road, everyone wearing ground sheets to keep dry. The weather cleared later, the sun came out and we cheered up quite a bit when the band struck up Colonel Bogey.
The countryside was really beautiful in the sunshine, the only snag being that all our water bottles had been deliberately emptied at the beginning of the march (drinking was not allowed on route marches) so by this time everybody was thirsty but enable to have any kind of a drink. However, some of us were able to get our water bottles filled by handing them to troops filling water buckets for the horses, so a few of us at any rate had a drink. We marched all day with ten minutes halt every hour, arriving in the afternoon at a camp with good hut accommodation. Here we remained for two days and were issued with boracic powder for our sore feet and to put in our boots to make marching easier.
After this, we were on the road again, marching all day with a halt every hour until we came to a village named Romaine where our billets were in hay lofts and I could sleep soundly in the hay and straw. Whilst there, some of the troops drank too much French wine and there were a few drunken arguments, some of which could have been very serious. In particular, two NCOs decided to prove which of them was the better shot with loaded revolvers. An empty biscuit tin was the target but, of course, neither NCO could hit it. They were both stupidly drunk and reeling about, then one of them held his pistol to the temple of the other, who was grinning and treating it as a huge joke ... he little knew how close he was to getting a bullet in his brain ! We were all afraid even to move and were much relieved when the incident passed without any further trouble. However, it resulted in a drumhead court martial, with sentence later.
We were there for only about twelve hours then on the road again, moving nearer to the lines where we arrived at a point about two miles behind the front line. Our billets here were inside a huge rock formation very much resembling Wookey Hole in Somerset, but much drier. The beds here were made of chicken wire fixed on each side of this big cave and there was a passageway leading to the top, from where we could see the front and the Very lights showing up at night. This place was part of a village called Roncey and on the following morning after arrival the battalion paraded at full strength and was addressed by the Colonel. He said that we had come to a very quiet front and to what was considered to be a rest for the 8th Division, of which our battalion was a part. He went on to say that should any attacks be made by us whilst here, no prisoners were to be taken. Later that day, the battalion moved up into the lines and we were told to speak to the French troops we were relieving. I remember a French mongrel dog following the Frenchmen out then turning round and coming back with us into the lines. To get there, we had to cross the River Aisne, where the original bridge had been blown up and a little wooden bridge built to replace it. We were now in the Support Line which was directly behind the front line and we were the first British troops to take over this front - although our artillery support comprised mostly French 75mm guns. I did not see any big guns at any time.
A lot of the trenches were fairly wide so that it was easy to move about, even though wet and muddy, and we were issued with rubber boots to overcome trench feet. At one camp we had two days training and it was here that one of our chaps was killed by a live hand grenade. In throwing it over, he hit the parapet of the trench and it dropped back and exploded.
As a No 1 Lewis gunner, I was directed with others to our appointed place in the line, which had deep dug-outs and hand operated water pumps to supply water for drinking and for washing. During this time we noticed that the front was becoming more active and as each day came it seemed to me that it was getting steadily worse. The observation balloons were beginning to have some effect and during the first hours of daylight we had a salvo of shells come directly into the trench, right on target, but there were no casualties as that part of the trench was empty. I happened to be in the observation post, just in front of the trench, and had the experience of being covered with earth thrown up by the explosion. The whole effect of this was to make us much more careful in moving around and to keep under cover.
Our job while in support was to supply the front line with everything needed, such as small arms ammunition, water and food. When we first went there, the tea and stew were carried in the old type dixies by two men, in Indian file, on the butts of rifles on our shoulders. This was later altered to a large Thermos tank with two strong webbing straps adn carried on the back of one man. All our water supplies were heavily charged with chloride of lime and the tea, of course, tasted mostly of this. We did have one piece of luck here, when I happened to find a large French loaf (much larger than ours) in behind the boarding of a deep dug-out, and this we shared with our Lewis gun team. On going to the front line with tea, ammunition, etc. we came upon one of the boys lying in the bottom of the trench with a bullet through his head. We were told that he had been killed by a sniper and his body was to be picked up by stretcher bearers. The words "stretcher bearers" were to become quite common later.
Each company would take a turn in the three lines, making seven days in the front line - seven days in the support line - and seven days in the reserve line, after which we would be relieved by another battalion. We would then go out to a rest camp for approximately seven days, making a month altogether but most often our rest time would be shortened and sometimes amounted to only three or four days. One afternoon I was doing my job as a Lewis gunner in the observation post, watching the whole of our front through a periscope fixed to the wall of the trench. I turned around and found one of our young officers behind me. He told me that if I looked through my field glasses early in the morning, I would be able to see men ploughing the fields. I thought that this was a rather peculiar thing to be doing so near to the enemy lines. Anyway, what he actually saw was horses going back after bringing up guns during the night and returning, trailing the traces on the ground. Later events proved this to be right. This young man was working as an Intelligence Officer but in my opinion he seemed too young for the job. When three dud shells dropped in front of our post, he asked me if they were gas shells, but there was no sign of any gas about.
A few days later a sergeant came and asked me if I would like to go on a Lewis gun refresher course and entered my name for this. At this time, some parts of the trenches were being heavily shelled and we had some difficulty moving out of the lines. However, there were only about thirty of us going on this course and we managed to get out without casualties. I remember that this was on a Sunday and, after some sort of breakfast, we began a march that lasted all day with ten-minute hourly halts. The weather was perfect and very hot and by the time we arrived at the Lewis gun school it was early evening. We were again given boracic powder for our feet and boots, and the accommodation in huts was good. Our refresher course was to last for two weeks, and to my mind it seemed more of a holiday as our parades finished at midday, the rest of the day being free. The course was also a repetition of our previous training. Living conditions were still giving us trouble with body lice and every evening was a time for shirt reading. All the boys, like myself, were fighting a losing battle with the saddle backs as they were known. The usual practice was to open the seams of clothing and run a lighted cigarette up to burn out the eggs and prevent hatching, but fumigation was the only practical way to overcome this trouble, together with baths and fresh underclothing.
We had been at this school for just a week when, at around midnight on the following Sunday, a sergeant burst into our hut shouting "everybody out on the road in ten minutes", which gave us just time to put on our gear. Outside on the road a long line of lorries was drawn up and we had orders to climb aboard, not knowing just what was happening. We soon found out when some shells passed over us and pitched in the fields nearby. The lorries then stopped and we had orders to take over some trenches a short distance away. We then found that we were back in the village of Roncey and that the line we were holding was a stone's throw from our previous billet in the Rock.
When daylight came, we were able to see thousands of Germans coming towards us through the cornfields. Our Lewis gun was in position on the parapet and we began firing at 600 yards range but could not guage the effect, as the enemy kept disappearing in the tall corn then rising and coming on again. There were so many of them that we had no way of knowing their casualties. While this was going on, we had to stop firing every now and again to let the wounded pass in front of us. I recall a Colonel being carried by on a stretcher and telling the boys who were carrying him to leave him and look after themselves. This, of course, they refused to do. The Lewis gun was very hot by this time as we had been firing continuously for upwards of an hour. When the order was given to move out onto the road, we were obliged to use two of us to carry it, one by the butt and the other by the bi-pod legs. When we arrived on the road it was filled with men, some on stretchers and also walking wounded being picked up by the Red Cross ambulance team, and a number of our men were badly gassed. We went to help with carrying the stretchers in order to get the wounded away but were ordered to take up new positions behind fields of barbed wire. For some reason or another, our Lewis gun limber arrived and orders were given to put the guns in the boxes, together with magazines, spare parts and also our valises which, the sergeant told us, we could pick up later. We did not see any of it again, nor my valise in which I had personal things and letters from home.
The German attack along this whole front had been building up for some time and it turned out to be a major battle. We were able to capture a few Germans here, and I recall seeing an officer (not ours) cutting off the buttons and Iron Cross ribbon from the tunic of one cocky German who, with the others, were given the task of carrying the wounded to the rear, some of them on their backs and others on stretchers. About this time, I was separated from White, the boy who was transferred with me to the Devons. I later saw him just before he was killed. For some time he had been very much depressed and I thought, from the beginning, that he had a presentiment that "his number would be called". He told me he had received a cake from home but that I could have it as he wouldn't be needing it. I made enquiries about him from the Red Cross men just before we went on rest period and was told he had been picked up, dead. So there it was, it just seemed to be part of our life and anything could be expected to happen.
In our new position, we had large fields of barbed wire both in front and behind, and we found ourselves better placed. Although ammunition was now getting low and none being brought to us. By this time, it was sunset after a very hot day and we were tired, hungry and thirsty so our officer gave the order to eat our iron ration, for which we were very thankful. We had nothing to drink and, as it was nearly dark, we decided to get some rest, leaving one awake to give warning. For this we tossed a coin. Shortly after going to sleep, I came awake again. All was quiet outside our shelter and, looking outside, I found that the four of us were quite alone. All the rest had moved back to a new position in a wood about a quarter of a mile away. I gave a shout and the others woke up. We moved quickly out into the open, with Germans firing at us as we ran back. Not one of us was hit, but we were nearly shot by our own troops when entering the wood, as they did not know we had been left behind and thought that we were German troops. Before dawn, we were moving back to another new position, according to orders from the one officer now in charge. I must explain here that, when we rejoined the battalion, all of our artillery had been captured by the advancing enemy, with one exception a field gun that was doing it's best to give us support. It remained with us for about two days and was then abandoned on a river bank. All this time, we were being constantly shelled and subjected to pressure the casualties mounting up fast. Frank Burt, who came from Wimborne, was wounded here and taken to the field hospital. Not badly wounded, he rejoined us a few months later.
Our battalion strength was now very much reduced and we were joined by troops from other regiments. We also did not appear to have any officers to give orders, except for one or two NCOs, so an officer from another regiment took over. He gave orders to dig a line of trenches on the edge of a wood, which we proceded to do. One or two of the other lads started to move on when the officer, who was mounted on horseback, pulled out his revolver and threatened to shoot one of them. He pointed the revolver at one chap and said he would shoot him if he did not dig. This fellow's mate then aimed his rifle at the officer and said that he would shoot him also, if he did so. We were able to stay for a while at this place but were forced to move back again on the following day, bringing back our wounded and leaving them with the Red Cross men, who were being overworked due to a shortage of wagons. Our position now was on the top of a fairly high hill, from which we could see most of what was happening, and we dug in. Almost out of ammunition, we could see our position was being gradually surrounded by the enemy. Orders were given to go down the hill, two at a time, and form again at the bottom. This was a worse position as we were in open country with no cover, being shelled and machine gunned. Most of the time, we were carrying our wounded back, some of them with very bad wounds, and quite a lot dying before we could get them out. Our own Brigadier General Grogan was awarded the VC here and I remember seeing him riding around from place to place on a grey horse, giving encouragement to the men. He was indeed a great soldier and, as far as I know, he was not hit. We were still without food and drink and, of course, very hungry and thirsty. Instructions were given to two men to go back to a village and bring back any food and drink they could find ... we did not see them again. It was here that I was told to take a message, with a runner, to an officer with a number of troops in a large wood about half a mile away. It was over open ground, no cover of any sort and the two of us set off under rifle and machine gun fire, not expecting to make it to the wood. However, we arrived and I had to inform the officer in charge that we were moving back on the left, and for him and his troops to do the same. We then returned, the way we had come, rejoining our party.
We saw no British aircraft at any time, but a number of air battles took place overhead where we were, between French and German planes. One French plane landed in a field next to us, the pilot having been shot in the upper part of one arm. He and his observer came over to us and one of our chaps bandaged him up then we directed him to a First Aid post nearby. Shortly after this, we had to wade through the Vesle river and I had a very close shave from a shell which landed only a few yards away from me. By this time we were in a very dirty condition and, not having taken off our boots for four days, our feet were getting bad and we were very hungry and thirsty. However, I managed to find some coffee beans in a railway house, put some in my pockets and chewed them for some days. We now had to dig a trench to make a new position and we camouflaged it with branches and grass because of the open position. The first day went by, with blazing sunshine and again no food or drink. After dark, I crawled out of the trench to the rear and found an empty gun-pit with a puddle of water in the bottom of it. There was also a small pile of empty bully-beef cans which I had a look through, with the hope of finding some meat left behind. With the exception of a few scraps, there was none. I did, however, fill my water bottle from the water at the bottom of the pit and took it back to the rest of the boys. We drank it all between us and, of course, next day we were all ill with stomach pains but recovered later. The following morning, we could see rations being taken to another point a short distance away, but we could not be reached owing to our open position so we concluded that our rations had been left there. That night, we moved out after dark and were relieved by fresh troops, I can assure you that they were welcome to the conditions there. We were then taken to a wood where we had our first meal in five days and were able to take our boots off and put our feet in water ... what bliss! After this, boracic powder was used again on feet and boots. I am not sure of the number of our casualties by this time, but I think that I am right in saying that approximately twenty of us were all that was left from a whole battalion, but as there was no roll-call I would say that it was probably a little less.
We now went on a rest period, or rather what was at that time called a Kings Rest which in effect meant going some distance from the fronts. The battalion was made up to strength with new reinforcements from home and a comb-out at the bases. Some of the latter were not very pleased at having to leave their easy jobs at these bases. With all the new men arriving, we were now under canvas at Chalk Camp and the battalion paraded each day. At this time, we marched roughly two miles through a forest for further training in firing and mock attack. The Colonel and his staff officers were all mounted on horseback and the battalion paraded in square formation. Everything went according to plan on the first day but, on the second day, the Major's horse seemed difficult to control for some reason. As the company officers reported to the Colonel for orders, the Major's horse turned away and backed into the Colonel's horse, lashing out immediately with his hind legs, the two of them creating quite a confusion. To make matters funnier still, the Colonel sat his horse very calmly, trying to ignore the trouble, but you can perhaps imagine the effect all this had on the troops who were on parade. Everyone, except the Colonel and his staff, were roaring with laughter. The Regimental Sergeant Major and Company Sergeant Major were trying their best and eventually stopped the laughing. The Major concerned was quite a good sport, and when mounting his horse near me at the end of the day, I heard him say, "I suppose I shall now have some more bloody fun with this horse", which gave me the impression that he was either unused to horse riding or new to that particular horse. While on parade, the order came "Anyone wishing to take stripes and become an NCO, take two paces forward". Only one man from the whole battalion stepped forward, no one wanted stripes. Some were later obliged to become NCOs and were selected by the CSM. Our clothing and equipment was by now in very poor condition, so we were issued with completely new outfits with the only exception of rifles. We then went by lorries to a place called Gamaches, where we were again under canvas and later able to go sea bathing at a place near the mouth of the Somme river. This was certainly a real rest and, as far as I can remember, lasted for roughly three weeks. The battalion was now fitted out with a complete new staff of colonel and officers, and plans were made for us to be on the move again. We had no idea as to where we were going, but we later took over a camp near a place called Mont St Eloi, which reminded me very much of Corfe Castle in Dorset. I remember that we moved out of this camp on a Sunday evening and went by lorry along a straight road which brought us to the junction of Arras to Lens road.
We were now directly at Vimy Ridge which was bare except for a few tree stumps. Upon entering a communication trench leading over the ridge, we had a marvellous view of Vimy which was directly below us, the ruined town of Lens on our left and, almost directly in front of us, the town of Douai. On our right was the ruined city of Arras while Douai was not much damaged, but it was in German hands. We did not have time to admire the view from the top of the ridge as we were taking over this sector from the Canadians, who had moved over to the right sector. We found that we had quite good trenches, our main communication trench running through the village churchyard of Willereaux and in front of another village named Arleaux, both of which were complete ruins. Arleaux was between our front and the German front lines. The night before we took over, a German raiding party had tried to capture some Canadians, without any success, so we were expecting the same thing to happen again to us. However, nothing did happen. Our company went into the front line for the first seven days, and I can remember a very heavy thunderstorm on the second night we were there. All the lower sections of the trenches were flooded, making everything wet and uncomfortable. We went, in battle order, to remove our haversacks and put them under a bivouac shelter, but in the morning we found that they had all been eaten through by rats, which included our iron rations (biscuits) which were carried in canvas bags. I had never seen such rats, most of them as big as cats and brown in colour.
Three of us were in the advance posts in front of the front line to give warning and to block a communication trench, which we sand-bagged. The following day we were being pestered by a German sniper, several of the boys having narrow escapes, so that night I went out with a party to find his position, which was in front of the German barbed wire. We blacked our faces and crawled out after it became dark and found the spot, but the snipers were gone. Some telephone wires were connected to the sand-bagged post, running back to the German front line, so we destroyed the post and took back around 100 feet of telephone wire to prove that we had achieved some result. Two nights later, our two Lewis gun teams were sent into the destroyed village of Arleaux which was in no-man's-land between the German and British front lines. One team was posted in a cellar on the edge of the village, whilst my team had to make a position directly at the cross roads - which we had some trouble in finding owing to the village having been so totally destroyed. We made up a post with brick rubble and fixed the gun in position, our job being to prevent any Germans from approaching our front line. A short while after settling in, some heavy rifle and machine gunfire opened up on our right and suddenly we saw the German signal lights, two red and one green, which we knew from previous experience meant SOS (send over shells). Immediately after this, a terrific bombardment of shells came over and we all thought that none of us would survive, it seemed like hell itself had been let loose on us. All we could do was lie face down and wait for it to end, which it did after about ten minutes. There were just five of us in this post and I shall never know how we came through without casualties. Just before dawn, we packed up the gun together with all our gear and returned to our front line, where to us it seemed almost like safety.
When our relief period of seven days came around, five of us in our platoon - we were all marksmen - went by lorry to take part in a shooting competition at a spot some thirty miles from the battle areas, where it was quiet and peaceful. Parties of five representatives were chosen from all the British regiments in France. We were quartered in tents on a small island in a river and the weather conditions were perfect, but we finished up only about halfway up the awards table. Every morning, at an hour before sunrise, we had to stand to for one hour and again for another hour just before sunset, these being the times when an enemy attack could be expected, all the troops being on or below the firing steps. We had now been relieved in the front line and had gone back to the support line, where the fatigue duties are done. Our first job here was unloading and cleaning a great number of Lewis gun magazines, that is oiling the insides of magazines and the ammunition then reloading ready for use. Another duty was to meet the ration train which was an electric motor drawing two fairly small trucks on a light guage railway track. This train was expected at about 10pm and came as far as Willereaux, where we were told to unload. It was raining heavily at the time so we waited in the dug-out. This was also ankle deep in water and, to make matters worse, Willereaux was being heavily shelled. At first we were bombarded with high explosives only. Shortly after, the gas alarm went off so gas masks were put on as gas cylinders were landing all around us, mixed up with the shelling. We were then told that the ration train had arrived after a delay of about two hours owing to the shelling. The sergeant in charge gave orders for us to run out, two at a time, grab the first two sacks we could lay hands on then make a bolt for it back to our trench. Together with another lad, I ran out - both of us reaching the truck at the same time - when we heard a shell which seemed to be coming in right on top of us. We both dropped down flat underneath the truck as the gas shell exploded only a few yards away. We did manage to grab two sacks and bolted for the trench, which by this time was filled with poison gas. In fact, the whole area was like being in a London fog and our range of vision was only about two yards. Wearing our masks, and due to these conditions, we had some difficulty finding our position in the support line. Arriving there, we were allowed to sleep in the dug-out, this being the general rule. After a few hours sleep I turned out with the others to find that the rain had gone and the sun was shining. Shortly after this, a sergeant came to me with a notebook and asked me if I was going on sick parade. I told him I had no reason for doing so for as far as I knew, I was alright. He told me that if I did not go then, I would later, as all the others who had been on ration fatigues were going sick. He said, "Take a look at your eyes in the mirror of the trench periscope". I did, and found that I had bright red rings around my eyes but did not feel any effects at that time. He entered my name and number in his notebook. I met the others at the main communication trench and found that the chap who had run out to the ration train with me had been badly burned by liquid poison gas and would not let anyone near him. Also, the corporal who had been with us lay dying on a stretcher nearby. We soon found we were unable to keep our eyes open and we had to hold onto each other's coats for support. One man was then put in charge to lead us in crocodile fashion, each of us with one hand on the shoulder of the man in front, for guidance, to the medical officer's dug-out. Here our eyes were examined and by this time they were very painful. Some kind of liquid was put in them, then two cotton wool pads were bound tightly around our heads. We were then lead out of the lines and taken to some other place where I remember there was the smell of boiling tea and cooked food. This was something so different from what we had been used to and, after a good meal of tea and cake, we were again taken outside where we could feel the warm sunshine. After we had been there for a while, someone who we thought sounded like an officer came to us and asked if we had been fed. Although we said that we had, he took us back to the canteen and gave us another tea, which was too good to be refused. Later we were loaded into Red Cross ambulances and taken to a hospital in Mont St. Eloi where we slept on beds for the first time since leaving England.
The next day, the battalion went back to the line for another twenty one days, but owing to the trouble with my leg, I had to remain with the other chaps at the rest camp. Just as the boys were forming up on the road to march off, the parcel post arrived bringing me a cake and letters from home. There was also a parcel for another chap with whom I had become pally. His name was Rickard and he was one of the signalling party. I took him his parcel so he could take it along with him but, owing to the heavy load of the kit he was carrying, he told me he could not manage to take it. I told him that I would bring it with me when I rejoined the boys in the line, which I knew would be in a short while, and returned to the hut. At 12 midnight that night the battalion made an attack and we could plainly hear the bombardment open, then a quarter of an hour later it ceased, so we then went to sleep. Early in the morning, a sergeant came to our hut and asked for volunteers for a burial party, he said, "I know you'll do it, as it's your own boys". We all volunteered and were each given a pick and shovel, then we walked to the place where we were to dig, two of us to each grave. We were all in a sombre mood, it was not a pleasant task and to make matters worse the rain poured down ceaselessly all the while, dampening our already low spirits still further. Later in the morning, they brought lorry loads of bodies, piled up on each other, and laid them in long lines on the grass, almost, it seemed to me, as if they were on parade. Then a sergeant and a corporal passed along the lines, taking names and numbers of the dead. I happened to be sitting near them, listening to the names being called out. The name Pickard was mentioned but at the time I was not too concerned. However, I suddenly wondered if a mistake had been made in calling out this name, so I asked the sergeant if it was correct. He said that he would make certain, then came back to tell me it should have been Rickard. Of course, I knew who it was and out of all the men buried that morning, I had the job of burying my pal Rickard, although I did not know this until after I had filled in the grave and the board bearing his name fixed in place. It seemed almost as though it was intended that I should bury him and I only regretted that I did not have his home address to which I could write. There is one thing I would like to make a note of here, on this last midnight attack, the soldier who was tried by court-martial (to which I referred earlier) went over with the rest of the boys, and was killed. His sentence had been reduced, and at midnight it would have been finished. At the time of the court-martial he told us that he would be going to Le Havre prison, away from the front, but instead, as a punishment, he was made to do front line duty all the time that the battalion were in the lines.
Two or three days later, I was off the sick list and able to get back and rejoin my company. I found them in a new position, on a ridge in front of Arleaux from where we could look downwards into the enemy lines and watch the effect of our trench mortar shells exploding. We also had to put up with the same sort of thing from the German lines. Our orders were to fire at anything that moved. The Germans put up some lifesize cardboard figures for us to shoot at, presumably to find out what sort of shots we were. A raiding party from our No 6 platoon went out after dark and brought back two complete suits of uniform which they had taken from Germans they had killed. These proved that the troops in front of us were Bavarians. By the size of the uniforms, which we hung up on sticks, they appeared to be heavily built fellows. Now and again the artillery officers would come to our front line to record the German gun flashes and to mark the positions on their maps. I remember one of them telling us to watch the bombardment of a huge coal mine slag heap, almost in front of us, which he informed us was the German staff headquarters. It was much too big to destroy completely, but our big guns must have made it very uncomfortable for any Germans in there. We were now due for a rest period and went back to our rest camp, being followed most of the way by German shellfire. This camp was within range of their big guns and we could expect a blasting by big shells at any time of the day or night. One German long-range gun made a point of firing at us almost every night, always on the stroke of twelve, in fact, we could set our clock by it. Certain things began to happen here. Firstly, all numbers 1 and 2 Lewis gunners, myself included, were called out at midnight with our guns, magazines and spare parts bags, and taken by lorry to a position opposite the town of Lens, where the Germans were expected to make a possible breakthrough. We fixed up our guns in a ruined house but nothing untoward happened, so we were picked up again after stand-down and taken back to the rest camp, where we were free for the remainder of the day to get some sleep.
The next thing that happened was that all of us were awakened one night with orders to parade out on the road within ten minutes. We were then told that observers in the balloons had reported that the Germans were evacuating and pulling out on our front. Again nothing happened, so we returned to the huts. Later events proved that there was some truth in it however. After this rather long spell at Vimy Ridge, we moved to the ruined town of Arras and, after passing through it, we took over front line trenches looking directly towards Douai. This was then still in German hands and we could plainly see huge fires burning in the city. We made a new attack here but captured only a few prisoners due to the enemy pulling back. We now found ourselves about half a mile from the Hindenburg Line, with the advance posts very close to it. A party from a Lancashire regiment were sent forward to occupy these forward posts but nothing was seen of them again. We were told this, and were also informed that we had to take over the same posts. After dark, we put our rations in sandbags and water in petrol cans and, with our officer in the lead, we moved up through a ditch by the side of the road. We also had to find our way through fields of barbed wire which the Germans had laid. After a difficult journey, we arrived, crawling on hands and knees at our post. Here we discovered, to our dismay, that the sacks containing our rations had been lost in transit. We were so very close to the Hindenburg Line and we were told beforehand that we must speak in whispers and use hand signs instead of talking aloud to each other, so as not to draw attention to the fact that we were there. But the Germans knew and began trying to reach us with whiz-bangs and machine guns, without result. Just before dawn, a sergeant signed to me and asked if I would try to recover the rations that had been lost. I went back the way by which we had previously come and, by a stroke of luck, found the sacks of rations and a petrol tin filled with water, under some barbed wire. The boys were greatly bucked-up when the shareout came, otherwise we'd had nothing to eat all day. Soon after I returned, the sergeant told me to follow a disused trench after crossing a road away to our right, where they could hear a wounded man calling for help. I was to find him then wait with him until they were able to send a stretcher to pick him up. I discovered him lying in a shell hole, managing to reach him without being seen as it was raining and foggy. I stayed with him for all of that day, expecting at any time to see the stretcher arrive, but it was not until dark that they were able to reach us without the enemy spotting them. He was unconscious for most of the time but, when he did come round, I was able to give him a small drink of water but we had nothing to eat all day. He was from A Company and they had sustained some casualties in moving up too far. His legs were very badly injured and he also had a bad wound on his face. We were both relieved when help finally came and we could move out of that shell hole.
The Germans were very jumpy and seemed to be expecting us as, all night long, the front had been lit up by Very lights and parachute flares making the nighttime bright and creating difficulties with moving about unobserved. Half and hour before zero, the rum ration was brought around and doled out. At five minutes past 5am the signal gun was fired, then the attack began. I have never forgotten the way all hell broke loose that morning, as we moved forward toward the German lines, when all the guns opened up. We were supposed to move at a slow walking pace, to allow our guns to extend their range every few minutes but, as usual, we gradually picked up speed until we found our own shells falling around us. I remember being struck on the left shoulder by what I thought was spent schrapnel and it was very painful for some time afterwards. I was too excited and keyed up at the time to bother much about it, there was noise and turmoil all around me the roar of the guns, the scream and crash of shells, all was pandemonium. We had been warned that it would be a tough battle, and it was. Our job was to take the enemy's front line, and we were able to collect a few prisoners. I still have no idea of the number of our casualties that morning, but there were many, a lot of our chaps killed and wounded by shellfire. Our own Lewis gun corporal was directing us to our position, talking to me, when he was struck in the face by schrapnel, which entered his cheek and passed out through his lower jaw. However, he did not lose consciousness, and after we had bandaged him up he was taken to a dug-out near our position. Shortly after we had cleared the trench, the guns ceased firing and I can still see the scene when the sun rose. We were able to sit on the parapet of the Hindenburg Line and look directly over the open countryside to the town of Douai, where large fires had been deliberately lit. In fact, the whole place had been burning for almost a month. We ate our rations and were then able to have a look round as there was no sign of the enemy, most of whom had been pulled back during the night to a new position, barring our road into Douai. All the countryside here was free from damage, with trees growing, so very different from the battlefields of Vimy Ridge and Arras.
After the battalion's first push forward here of roughly a quarter mile eastwards, we were clearing the ground in our rear when we came across an area where sometime previously an almighty clash had taken place. We found rusty rifles and bayonets, helmets both British and German with skulls still in them, boots with leg bones in them, bits of German field grey and British khaki uniforms and parts of equipment from both sides, together with more bones scattered all over the place. It seemed to me that this must have occurred about eighteen months previously and that it took place in no-man's-land, where neither side were able to identify or bury their dead. Also, stray shells appeared to have disturbed the remains at various times, making identification impossible.
We now came to what was known as a rest period, although there was very little rest connected with it. We heard that the canteen was sending us some army rissoles, the troops, of course, having their own particular name for these. They did eventually arrive and, to my mind, looked like dirty grey lumps of putty and without putting too fine a point to it, they tasted like it. It seemed like we had not missed anything by waiting so long! At about this time, we had a small reinforcement arrive and I was able to make a new pal who turned out to be a bare-back horse rider in a circus in civilian life. He used to bring the letters he received for me to read to him as he was unable to read or write. Even so, he was a strong, good looking lad and I only knew him for a short period. I always assumed that he was a casualty of the Hindenburg Line attack as I never heard what happened to him. Conditions were bad here and we were thankful to move forward towards Douai and see green fields and trees again, leaving behind the old, barren battlefield areas.
We were moving eastwards fast and all leave was stopped. We had a short spell of rest, about forty eight hours, which gave us a little time to relax then a battalion of Canadians came to relieve us. Our transport lines moved into a nearby clearing in the woods and all the horses and mules arranged in long lines. I had just left a church in a nearby village when the German heavy guns opened fire and shelled the spot where the animals were grouped. We could only stand helplessly by, powerless to prevent the slaughter which was taking place. The church had evidently been used by the Germans as stables for their horses, by the appearance of hay and straw which was strewn all over the floor. They had also looted the church, removing all the brass and copper.
Our brief spell of rest over, we again moved up towards Douai where we took over some shallow trench lines at night. Here we were obliged to deepen these lines by piling the earth on each side, not throwing it out over the top which would have given our position away. There was no shelter of any sort and I was twice blown off my feet by trench mortar shells, which landed on the parapet. One exploded in the trench and all we could do was lie face down and hope for the best. We were not allowed to stay in these lines for long and were shortly relieved by a battalion of the 2nd Middlesex Regiment, who were also attached to our division. They gave us the first news that the Germans had agreed to accept President Wilson's 14-point plan, and they seemed to be quite excited about it. From my own point of view, I considered it to be just another rumour and did not attach any great importance to it, but in this instance it turned out to be correct. The next day, we were able to break through the German machine gun posts and entered Douai over the main bridge. Here we found buildings on fire all around us, one happened to be a cinema and I can well remember seeing the Pathe film cockerel on fire there.
A number of the German troops had deserted at this point and we had to round them up, with orders to shoot to kill if they showed any sign of resistance. They came out of the cellars of the shops and houses with their hands up and seemed glad to know that, as far as they were concerned, the fighting was over. We loaded them into lorries and I remember our fellows swearing over the fact that they were being transported while we had to continue foot slogging. We moved further into the town, which was completely deserted, and came to a house where the back garden was filled with every kind of brass and copper ornament you could think of most of them having been looted from the churches and wayside shrines. There were also brass clocks, large crucifixes, brass and copper parts from railway engines and machines. We concluded that the Germans had collected all this stuff but had to leave in a hurry with no time to take it with them. Some of our boys started looking for souvenirs, so a guard was formed to stop this. The rear of this garden led down to a canal bank where the ground, leading to the water, was absolutely covered with banners and flags, curtains, etc. showing all the colours of the rainbow. We had previously seen all these colours from a distance before entering Douai, but at the time could not make out what they were. The Germans were setting fire to buildings and property as they retreated, and we had to be prepared all the time for any booby traps which they had left behind. All the crossroads had been mined, some exploding before we reached them. The Canadians now took over and we were able to rest for a while, during which we were fixed up with baths and clean clothes, the first time for about six weeks, a real treat, as you can imagine.
We now heard that one of our companies (I think it was C Company) was making a new attack over the pontoon bridge, making the attempt by going over with the help of an artillery barrage. They had a very hard time getting across with quite a lot of casualties. To make matters worse, the bridge was blown up and broken by enemy fire although some of the company did get back safely. I heard that some members of two Lewis gun teams had managed to swim back, bringing their guns with them. A new bridge was then put over the canal and another company made the attempt, with the same result. We were told that it was now our turn to try and get across, but this time without a barrage and to go over quietly. So the engineers constructed a large wooden box frame and covered it with waterproof canvas. This box was made to carry four at a time and at night a wire rope was strung across the canal and the box slung onto it. What was now left of our company made our way down a railway cutting which brought us out to where the box was waiting. My own Lewis gun team, the four of us, were the first load to go over. We also had bandoliers of extra ammunition for recharging the magazines of the gun and our first job, once we were over, was to act as a cover party by lying out in the open while the remainder of the company made their way over, four at a time without making any noise. Although it was dark, we found a lot of dead from the previous two attempts, lying unburied so we had to lie down amongst them. All of our movements had to be carried out by touching each other when we moved, as the Germans were dug in quite near to our position, and no sounds had to be made which might give away our presence. When everyone was over, we moved off through flood water to a building about 100 yards from the German lines and fixed up the gun in the doorway of what I then thought was a house at the head of a mine shaft. Except for some machine gunning and mortar shells it was fairly quiet, but around 4am a big German gun opened fire and we found that the shells were passing over us - but close enough to bring down some of the house we were in. We had a lance-corporal in charge of us, by the name of Whale, who realised that the shells had begun dropping shorter and, if we stayed where we were, we'd be liable for a direct hit. He moved us out to a new position behind some pit props. Picking the time to move between shell bursts, we managed to get there after being blown over by the blast from one of these shells. Our position here was on the extreme edge of the line, within a short distance of the canal bank, with the Germans dug in trenches about a hundred yards in front of us and open ground with no barbed wire in between. The enemy evidently knew that we were there, and during the night we were subjected to constant machine gun and mortar fire, with some casualties. It was drizzling with rain, as usual, and as daylight came the Germans opened up with a shell barrage - our own guns replying and shelling the enemy lines. Soon after it started, I moved across to where I could see over to the German lines and saw what I first thought was a German soldier bending down and lifting a wounded comrade to his feet. I moved to the end of the pit props and had a clearer view of a whole line of enemy troops coming towards our position, being led by an officer who was also bending down and urging his men onwards. I immediately opened fire with my Lewis gun while shouting to the rest of the boys at the same time to warn them that Jerry was coming. After a few rounds the gun jammed and stopped firing and I had to pick up my rifle and, with Frank Burt next to me, we continued firing. Frank was lying about a yard behind me, not realising that his rifle muzzle was very close to my right ear and that each time he fired he was deafening me. Of course, there was some excuse for it under the circumstances and in the excitement, but from my point of view extremely uncomfortable. The Germans had now reached the other side of the pit props, roughly ten feet away from us, when for some reason they turned and started to run back to their own lines. On the way back they received more casualties than when advancing towards us. The firing was now dying down and we saw one German soldier crawling towards our lines. We shouted and beckoned to him to go back but he didn't seem to understand what we meant and continued coming on. He had been badly wounded and died shortly after reaching us, I expect the poor fellow scarcely knew what he was doing, he was dying and wanted company. We did not know it at the time but our platoon officer, who was in charge of our two small platoons, was hit by a shell during the night and killed by another shell. On of our boys (who came from Winton) tried to bring him in but lost a leg in the attempt. Another of my pals, Vic Palmer, was also badly wounded at that time whilst he was with us. I tried to get information later and I believe that he too died. After the surviving Germans got back to their own lines they raised a white flag on a long pole, waving it backwards and forwards at intervals for the rest of that day. They did this, we thought, with the hope of getting us to come out onto open ground which, from our point of view, would have been fatal so we were told to ignore it. As usual, it was still raining and during the afternoon a German spotter plane flew fairly low over us - we assumed it was taking photographs and we tried to bring it down, without success. An hour later we were greatly cheered up by the news that we were pulling out as soon as it became dark. It did not take long to get all our gear together and we were ready to move long before dark. We then returned to the canal where we had left the canvas box and wire pulley.
In the darkness an officer came and told me to take my Lewis gun team and act as a rear guard cover party while the rest of the troops crossed the canal. I had orders to hand the gun over to No.2, come back to the canal bank and await further orders. These orders also applied to another gun team and their No.1 met me on the canal bank where we waited together. The troops were going steadily back, four at a time, taking the wounded with them. Eventually we found that our two gun teams appeared to be the only ones left on our side of the canal but we still waited for orders to move out. However, these orders did not come and we both agreed to bring our teams back to the canal bank, as there seemed to be no purpose in leaving them lying out in the open. We waited for a while longer then sent both teams across in the canvas box. We ourselves remained, waiting for someone to issue instructions which never came. We decided it was time for us to go and were on the point of leaving when we heard someone coming along the canal bank. In the darkness, we could not see who it was but he told us that several wounded men had been left behind, so we decided to go back for them ourselves. On the way, we came across a sergeant on a stretcher with two men sitting by the side of it. The wounded man was Sergeant Davis and I understood him to have been billeted in Clarence Park Road (my own road at home) during his training period, so I left the other No.1 gunner in order to help him back. I then went on almost to the place from where we had started and here found another wounded man on a stretcher. There was one man with him in a slit trench, waiting for help to move him. I knew that we would have to move fast as it had become quiet, with no firing or Very lights going up, so we picked up the stretcher and ran with the wounded man to the canal crossing. All the others had now gone over so we loaded the stretcher onto the box, which we'd pulled back from the opposite bank, and hauled the three of us over the canal. There were some big trees lining the bank and we barely had time to get across before the Germans counter- attacked. All we could do was lie low on the ground behind these tree trunks and wait for the firing to end. When the lull came, we picked up the stretcher and carried it back to Oisement, where we accompanied the wounded man to the hospital in St. Armand, and I can remember being absolutely worn out. I went upstairs to where we were quartered and just fell onto the floor, almost instantly asleep. We had previously been told to go down to the cellars in the event of a heavy raid, but I was much too tired to know anything about the shelling that took place during the night.
No-one woke us up the next morning which, for a change, was bright and sunny. About mid-day a sergeant came with orders for us to be on parade in half an hour for a roll-call. We turned out for this on time, but what a shock it was to see what was left of our battalion ! The casualties were much greater than I had ever expected. Our own Company Officer turned to us and said "Boys, I am proud of you" and I was surprised to see tears on his cheeks as he spoke. With regard to the strength of the battalion, I must say here that it was well below normal even before this action, as no reinforcements had been received from the time we had left Douai. When we came off parade our previous platoon officer came to see us in our quarters. The first thing he said was "I didn't expect to see any of you blokes again". He had, for some time, been promoted to Intelligence Officer and it was through his efforts that we were pulled back from what was a hopeless position.
The Canadians had again taken over our position south of the canal. A communique was posted on our notice board saying that the Germans were retreating all along the line and that we were to turn it into a rout to make them lay down their arms. This was easier said than done. They did pull back, however, and we now knew that the end of the war was getting near as we were meeting civilians on our eastward march. We also came upon prisoner-of-war camps where we met large numbers of prisoners who had broken out when their guards had gone. They were all dressed up in various types of uniform, including Boer War outfits, and seemed to be overcome by their release. Were they glad to see us ! We still had to move fast and came to a village where we were billeted in a school. Here it appeared that only the little girls were being taught, the boys' schoolmaster having been killed. At least, we concluded this was the case from what the boys had said. All the civilians were in bad shape and it was arranged that our meat rations should be given to them, as they had not had meat of any sort for nine months. We also gave the children some of our jam and cheese ration. When we moved off again at 3am, the boys brought us some freshly made coffee in large enamel jugs. Although there was no milk or sugar, we really did enjoy it as the weather was becoming very wet and cold. All along the route, the farms were still burning and at daybreak we came to quite a large town (I cannot recall the name) which was overflowing with people who had brought out pianos into the streets, and there they danced and sang - they were so excited. We marched through this town with our own brass band playing, which added greatly to the noise and shouting. We had to literally push our way through the huge crowds who, in their excitement, kept slapping us on the back, making it very difficult to continue on our way.
It was quite a relief to leave all that behind us and to be out in the country once again. We were still not getting any news of what was really happening. Only rumours reached us. We stopped for the night in houses which had been evacuated and, for the first time, four of us slept in a large four-poster bed with sheets and pillows (real luxury for us!). In the morning, one of the boys found some vegetables, potatoes and swedes. As there were some cooking pots handy, we lit a fire and he cooked all the veg for us. We gave him our biscuit ration and bully beef and he pounded the hard biscuits into a dough and made a meat pie in the oven. This was really great, except for the fact that just as we were sitting down to enjoy it the whistle blew for us to fall in on the road outside! We did, however, manage to fill our dixies with the hot food and ate it on the march. We continued on our way eastward along a railway track, most of which had been destroyed by the Germans. Eventually we came onto a main road and, as we moved along, I noticed that a number of field guns were going in the opposite direction and I remarked on this to my pal Frank Burt. He was of the same opinion as myself, that they were being sent back for re-boring. Shortly after, a runner passed us, calling something as he went but we could not make out what he was saying. Within ten minutes we were halted and officially given the news that the Armistice was being signed at 11 o'clock that morning, the time then being about 9.30am. The news was received with some relief by the troops but it did not create any great excitement, owing to the fact that the boys were much too tired to show any enthusiasm.
After having a rest by the roadside we marched on eastward, arriving at a place called Ghlin - a suberb of the town of Mons, and our band played us in. The civilian population were absolutely mad with excitement, crowding around us and again making it difficult for us to move in an orderly column. Our quarters here were on the upper floor of a school, all the lower rooms being crowded with refugees, mostly elderly people. It was decided that part of our food ration would be issued to them, for which they were grateful as some of them were actually starving. We now set to work cleaning ourselves up, also our equipment, with the polishing of buttons, badges, etc. in preparation for a celebration march past the Belgian King and Royal Family. I was detailed for a guard duty lasting 48 hours at a large house which had been taken over by us for use as a guardroom. The weather had now turned very cold and frosty. After a spell of night duty I was feeling very sick and running a temperature, I also had difficulty in swallowing owing to a bad throat. I managed to finish the guard duty and, instead of returning to the billet, I went to the Medical Officer's house. At first he diagnosed it as acute tonsilitis but later confirmed it as diphtheria. We were sleeping on a hard block floor at our billet so I had a very uncomfortable and disturbed night. The next morning, feeling very ill, I was put aboard a large Red Cross motor wagon with all my kit. Most of the others on board were suffering from Spanish Flu and we travelled westwards together for some hours. We eventually arrived at a large chateau, near Arras, which had been converted into a War Hospital. I was put into a really comfortable bed and received every possible attention from an Irish nurse. I was unable to swallow any solid food so she fed me regularly with warm milk and onion broth. Alone in an isolation ward, for the first two days I seemed to become light-headed at times. A padre came to see me and offered to write a letter home but I declined, with thanks, as I did not want mother and dad to worry about me. By the end of the week, I was feeling much better and was moved into a big ward with Americans and Canadians. We were later transferred to the Canadian 46th Stationary Hospital at Etables, the place from where I had started. We also had Australian and German sick in this hospital. It seemed as though we might have to spend our Christmas in there, but at 2am on December 21st we were put onto a Red Cross train which took us to Calais and then on a Red Cross transport ship bound for Dover.
On arriving at Dover we were put on another Red Cross train and eventually arrived at Epsom, where we were taken to the Horton War Hospital for convalescence. We had to report to the desk here for details of name, unit, etc. and I can well remember the official, after taking my particulars, looking at me and saying "Do you know that you are the first one of your mob to come here, and they have recently had a memorial service for the 2nd Devon Regiment at Exeter Cathedral". He seemed most interested and came along to see me several times during my stay there. I would have liked to have got home for Christmas but we were given a really good time at the hospital, with plenty of everything, they did us proud. The doctor came each morning to see us all and one day I remember him turning round at the door as he was leaving and saying "I have never seen so many fit and well invalids as I have seen today. A few months ago you would all have been feeling a lot worse when I came to see you". Well, we had a good time there and I made a lot of friends from various parts of the world and from home, but the time came when we had to go our different ways. We were demobilized from the hospital, where we were fitted out with our civilian suits. It was a great feeling to be going home for good, and I know that Mother and Dad were relieved to have me back where I belonged. I travelled down on the train with one of the chaps whom I had met in hospital, he came from Poulner in Hampshire. He said to me "Well this is the last time you will see me in khaki", but it was only the matter of a few months later that he called to see me. He was still in uniform and had enlisted in a tank regiment at Wareham. He said he could not settle down to a civilian life again as it was too quiet and he missed the companionship to which he had become accustomed.
Let the lamp of memory glow. Tell the young and let them know What was done to save this land. Tell them. Make them understand The cost of it, the bitter price In blood and tears and sacrifice. Tell the story, speak with pride Of the men who fought and died. Let the truth of it be known. Write the names in bronze and stone Of those who went at duty's call To give the greatest gift of all. Patience Strong. Let Them Know.
Off.Stew.3. Edgar Davis
Royal Navy HMS Drake
from:Walsall
My father Edgar Davis was aboard HMS Drake when she was torpedoed by U79 and towed into Rathlin Sound. That is all I know of his wartime experiences.
2nd Lt. Francis Davis DSO.
British Army 8th Btn. South Staffordshire Regiment
from:Birmingham
Frank Davis enlisted in 1895 in the Coldstream Guards and was discharged as medically unfit in 1896. In August 1898 he enlisted with the South Staffordshire Regiment and was posted to Ireland, Gibraltar and then South Africa (Boer War). He was awarded the Queens South Africa medal, with clasps for South Africa 1901, Wittenbergen, Transvaal. He then moved between South Africa and India until he was discharged in 1911.
He joined the Army reserve South Staffs. Regt. at the start of WWI and was mobilized in August 1914. In September he was promoted to Sgt. Cook .
In July 1915 he was posted to France with the 8th Battalion. In 1916 he was wounded at the Battle of the Somme at Fricourt on the 3rd July. He was posted home then returned to France in September and posted to 7th Battalion. In June 1917 he was posted to Rhyll, 16th Cadet Battalion for Officer Training. In January 1918 he was commissioned 2nd Lt. in 4th Battalion South Staffs. In May 1918 he fought in the Battle of Aisne.
Extract from 25th Division book: "2nd Lt. F. Davis 4th South Staffordshire Regt. on the 27th May 1918, in the woods south - west of Cormicy this officer showed great ability as a leader and gallant conduct of the very highest order when the flank of the battalion was completely in the air, with the enemy working round in great strength, he kept his men steady and by his coolness enabled an orderly withdrawal to be effected .
Shortly afterwards when the battalion was almost completely surrounded, he formed a rear guard with the remaining men of his company, and through his very skilful leadership, and by engaging his men at close quarters, enabled the rest of the battalion to withdraw through the bottle neck position, and he then succeeded in extricating his own men. On the following day south of Prouilly he hung on to a very important tactical position with the utmost resolution though he lost the greater number of his men from heavy shell fire, he himself being wounded. Throughout these two days fighting, his personal disregard for danger was an example to everyone, and his skilful handling of his men saved the battalion on two occasions." He was awarded the D.S.O. and in July 1918 was promoted to Lieutenant, possibly with 7th battalion. In November 1918 he was mentioned in dispatches for an action at Mons/ Maubeuge railway. In 1919 Acting as Ships Adjutant, he was promoted to Temp. Captain. Whee he was demobilized on the 11th of November 1919 he was granted the rank of Captain. Frank served a total 21 years 57 days with the colours, plus 3 years in the reserve.
George William Davis
British Army Sherwood Foresters
from:Hereford,
My father, George William Davis, was proud of his service, but never told me any details, partly because he had suffered greatly in that war, but mentally and physically. He was very young at the time of his service; I believe he ran away from home and lied about his age. I believe he was under 18 years of age. He was rendered temporarily blind from mustard gas for an extended period of time and he had nightmares about an event that occurred during the war until his death at age 80 in Phoenix, Arizona. I am not sure exactly what happened to him, but he would scream during the nightmare and I believe it had something to do with being ordered to shoot or bayonet their own comrades who were unwilling to go over a hill from the trenches to attack the enemy lines in Belgum or France. He also served in Egypt and while off duty suffered head injuries from being attacked by an anti-British mob who kicked him down a street until he was rescued by other British soldiers. Again--he did not discuss this with me. I learned of this from my mother who always used his military experiences an excuse for some of his problems--including alcoholism. I was also led to understand that British soldiers were given rum rations prior to battle so that they would engage in the conflict. I do not know whether this is true. Because I know so little of my father's actual experience or where he fought, I would be glad to receive any information from anyone who has knowledge about my father's experiences in the war. His home was in Herefordshire, prior to and after the war. I know he had a history book of the Great War which has disappeared and he used to look at one of the pictures in it in which he appeared with others in the trenches. I cannot locate this book. Thank you for any assistance that you could provide.
Pte. George William Davis
British Army 10th Battalion, B Company, 6th platoon Sherwood Foresters
from:Hereford, Herefordshire, Villa Street
My father, George Davis, served in the British Army with the 10th Battalion, B Company, 6th platoon, Sherwood Foresters. He was 17 when he enlisted; my uncle said that he lied about his age to enlist. He was blinded by mustard gas during trench warfare in France. He also served in Egypt and also suffered injuries there when he rode a bus alone and was kicked down the road by men who pushed him off the bus and attacked him. He was saved by soldiers in the area who saw the attack.
My father had recurring nightmares about fighting in the trenches until his death at age 80. His nightmare always ended with him screaming, "let's go boys; over the hill." He never told me what happened, but I have always believed that his war experiences and injuries contributed to his alcohol dependency and physical and mental problems that plagued him throughout his life. I believe his army rations included rum and other alcoholic drinks to deaden the emotions of those who had to fight in combat. To me the cost of this war to the young men of England and their families cannot be justified.
Pte. George Henry Davis
British Army 21st (2nd Tyneside Scottish) Btn. Northumberland Fusiliers
from:Sunderland
(d.9th Jul 1916)
My Great Grandfather George Davis was born in Houghton le Spring and was a hewer in the coal mines in the North East. He moved from Houghton le Spring and went to Castletown in Sunderland in 1909ish. In January 1915 he joined up with his pals and enlisted in the Tyneside Scottish where over the next year with spent training on how to be a soldier. In 1916 they set of for France and moved up the line facing the villiage of La Boisselle where at 7.30am July 1st they went over the top and were cut down like sheaths of corn. My Great Grandfather was wounded in the attack and ended up in No. 11 Stationary British Hospital in Rouen where on the 9th July he succumbed to his wounds and was buried in St Sever War Cemetery in Rouen. I would love to see a photo of him unfortunately not been able to come across one so far.
Pte. George Henry Davis
British Army 21st (Tyneside Scottish) Btn. Northumberland Fusiliers
from:Sunderland
(d.9th July 1916)
My great grandfather, George Henry Davis, joined the 21st (Tyneside Scottish) Northumberland Fusiliers in January 1915. He attacked on 1st July 1916 the village of La Boisselle. He was wounded and transported to Number 11 Hospital in Rouen where he died and is buried in St Sever War Cemetery.
A/Sgt George William Davis
British Army 1st Btn. Northumberland Fusiliers
Speaking with my father one time, he mentioned that his uncle, George William Davis's, medals had been handed down to him, so I immediately asked to see them. What I found was a little treasure trove, because it wasn't just the medals, but a small package with lots of goodies inside. In addition to his medals, there was something I had never seen before, a silver War Badge and the certificate to match it by name and serial number: B38666.
The package also contained his Soldier's Small Book with his enlistment and discharge details, an Active Service Testament with a date of 21st January 1915, a book titled Trench Orders British Salonika Army, a book titled A Short History of the Fifth Fusiliers from 1674 to 1911 and a book titled Balkan Army Uniforms. Plus a pack of playing cards advertising Scissors Cigarettes. Additionally, there were two letters, one detailing the formation of the Fifth Fusiliers Old Comrades Association, dated 15th November 1913 and the other dated 30th March 1950 from Depot Fifth Fusiliers thanking George for donating items to the Museum.
Also included were two postcards, the first unsent is a tale of Brocton Camp (research tells me this was in Staffordshire), which was used as a staging camp during the war. The other is dated 25th August 1916 with a stamp saying On Active Service. This was sent to his wife living in Kings Langley at the time.
So now I turned my attention to the medals and War Badge, and what a fascinating collection it is. From left to right there are: North West Frontier 1908, India; 1914 Star with clasp 5th August to 22nd November 1914; British War Medal; Victory Medal; Defence Medal 1939-1945.
George enlisted on 23rd December 1903 at Woolwich, hence the 1908 medal, and was discharged on 5th November 1918. So the Defence Medal was for service in the Home Guard, and I've still to do that research. The medal ribbons were in a very poor state, so I arranged with my Father to have the medals remounted and placed in a display box. The original medal ribbons were returned to us, and a good job too. When I pealed back the old ribbons, I found the original ribbon bar underneath. The 1914 Star with clasp entitles the recipient to wear a silver rosette on the medal ribbon bar when not wearing their medals and there was the rosette! The Silver War Badge was issued in the United Kingdom and the British Empire to service personnel who had been honourably discharged due to wounds or sickness from military service in World War I. The serial number is stamped on the back of the badge and in this instance matches the certificate dated 29th November 1918 issued to G W Davies. And this is part of the problem of ancestry research, because his surname is spelt Davis. The problem doesn't stop there either; some of the medals have his name spelt Davies as well! No wonder ancestry research can be so frustrating, but I will keep on digging.
2nd Lt. George Leigh Blakeman Davis
British Army 23rd Battalion Royal Fusiliers
from:Wanstead London
(d.27th September 1918)
2nd Lt. Harold Charles Davis
RFC/RAF
from:Portsmouth
(d.26 Jun 1918)
My Great Uncle, Harold Charles Davis, was born in 1894 in Portsmouth, one of 4 brothers who all enlisted for service in WW1. Brother Percy Bernard Davis was with the Royal Fusiliers, 11th Battalion and was KIA on 10th August 1917 during the 3rd battle of Ypres, Cyril Henry Davis joined the Royal Navy & survived the war as did George Reginald Davis who, amongst other postings was with a Siege battery in the Royal Garrison Artillery in Mesopotamia (Iraq) at Qut during 1917 fighting the Turks of the Ottoman emire. Harold was training to be an accountant in the family building business in Portsmouth prior to enlisting in the Hampshire Yeomanry before transferring to the 9th Batallion Essex Regiment then finally transferring to the Royal Flying Corps in 1917. Harold was an observer in 104 Squadron and flew in the DH 9 aircraft when he was shot down and killed on Mount Donon in the Vosges Mountains of France during a bombing raid behind enemy lines. His Pilot Charles G Jenyns survived the crash landing and was taken prisoner for the duration of the war and was able to return Harold's possesions to the family when he was released. Harold was finally laid to rest in the Plaine French National Cemetery at Plaine in the Bas-Rhin region of France.
2nd Lt. Harold Charles Davis
Royal Flying Corps 104 Squadron
from:Southsea
(d.26th June 1918)
Harold Davis served with the & Essex Regiment and 104 Squadron, Royal Flying Corps.
Last letter home from Harold Charles Davis:
'Bicton' St. Andrews Road, Southsea. My Dear old Reg, I thought I would just drop you a line to say that I am still keeping merry and bright or else I should think that you would think I have forgotten you, needless to say I haven't forgotten you, far from it, I often wonder how you are progressing in the art of "hanging on", I may say, I think as soon as you are more or less proficient you won't be so keen on the motor bike but will take every opportunity to get a horse and as you ride along the sandy tracks you will go into wild raptures exclaiming Waaga!-Wagga! By the way have you heard the yarn about Waaga! Waaga!? ah! well I'll tell you when I see you the next time, which I hope won't be so very long. I suppose I can almost call myself, or shall I say class myself, as one of the intrepid birdmen as I have done about 26 hours, including two forced landings and a crash. I am pleased to say the crash wasn't serious, I had two priceless black eyes & a face about twice it's normal size, of course I had a bit of a shake up but am pleased to say I am in tip top health now, needless to say the machine was a "right off". Am expecting to go out again, now, any day so I have given the home address, then if you have a sec: to spare & you drop a line I shall get it much quicker. Well, Reg, old chap how are you getting on? Jogging along merrily I hope, you had a stroke of luck meeting Andrews, you ought to give Ladd a look up, an awfully nice fellow, I sent you his address once, but sorry I haven't got it to let you have it again. Are you still contemplating a transfer? I suppose you are as keen as ever, I should think you would have no difficulty now. Well I must close now & will in future more regularly, trusting you are keeping quite fit, with heaps of the the very best luck. Cheerio. Harold
2nd Lt. Harold Charles Davis
Royal Flying Corps 104 Squadron
from:Southsea
(d.26th June 1918)
My great uncle Harold Charles Davis served during WW1, first in the Essex Regiment, then, in 1918 transfered to the Royal Flying Corps as an observer/bomb aimer. He joined 104 squadron on 7th April 1918 and during a bombing mission on the 26th June 1918 his plane was shot down in the Vosges mountains in the Alsace region of France and he was killed. He was flying in a DH9 and because of engine trouble the aircraft was forced to leave the formation and tried to return to the airfield but was attacked and crash landed. His pilot Charles Gambier Jenyns survived the attack but was captured by the Germans and spent the rest of the war in Karlsrue prison camp.
Harold was one of four brothers who all fought during WW1 and only two were lucky enough to survive. Harold is buried in the Plaine French National Cemetery and was greatly missed by his family.
Dvr Hedley Vickers Davis
Australian Imperial Force 38th Btn.
from:128 Charles St Footscray,Victoria
Hedley Davis was a driver with the Transport Section. He departed Australia on the 20th of June 1916, arriving in England on the 10th of August. He arrived France on the 29th of Novemember and was at Armentiers until the 20th of February 1917. He was in the Messines sector from the 27th of March 1917 and took part in the attack on the 7th of June. He was in the 3rd battle of Ypres from the 29th of September, at Broodscinde and Passchendale and was on The Somme in early 1918, fighting at Mont St Quentin, the St. Quantin Canal, Amiens and the Hindenburg Line. He was hospitalized in England and arrived home in 1919.
Pte. Henry Davis
British Army 8th Btn. Somerset Light Infantry
from:Weston Super-Mare
(d.1st July 1916)
Henry Davis was born in Bristol and was killed in action on the 1st day of the Somme.
Tpr. Henry Roland Davis
New Zealand Army New Zealand Training Unit
from:Christchurch
(d.31st July 1916)
Trooper Henry Davis was the Son of William and Lucy Davis (nee Ward) of 656 Worcester St., Christchurch. Born at Amberley.
He was 23 when he died whilst with the New Zealand Training Unit and is buried in the Balcairn Cemetery, in the Hurunui District of New Zealand.
Pte. Henry William Davis
British Army 15th (1st London Welsh) Btn. Royal Welsh Fusiliers
from:Islington
Henry Davis joined up in 1914, one of three brothers to enlist. His youngest brother George went missing at the Somme. Henry was wounded on the 17th of November 1916, I was told he suffered gas attack, but am still investigating.
L/Cpl. Henry Croft Davis
British Army 1st Btn, A Company, 2nd Platoon Herefordshire Regiment
from:Ross-on-Wye
We have a few letters that my grandfather, Harry Davis wrote to his then fiance. It is difficult to put into a timeline as some are not dated. He spoke about his friends from home that were fighting alongside him. He was shot, had frostbite and almost drowned, but was always positive and had a great sense of humour that came through in the letters. Wish I had got to know him better.
Spr. J. Davis
Canadian Army 1st Canadian Tunnelling Coy.
(d.2nd Dec1917)
Pte. James Richard Davis
Australian Imperial Force. 2 Platoon 41st Btn.
L/Cpl. James Davis
British Army 62nd Field Ambulance Royal Army Medical Corps
from:Hillesley
(d.26th August 1916)
Sgt. James Davis
British Army 2nd Btn. Royal Scots
from:Walsall
When my father died he left me things about his time in WW2. I also found my grandfather's things from WW1. I found a medal for service and a football medal of the 6th Corps Football Tournament. On it says "Winners Sgt J Davis 2nd Royal Scots" and it is dated 26th of January 1918. With this medal, wrapped in a cloth, was a Leonidas Swiss-made army pocket watch with the crows foot filed down. I wound the watch and, to my amazement, it started to tick and from that day it has kept excellent time. The only fault is that the glass has shrunk and worn, but the mechanism is perfect. My grandfather, James Davis survived the war and died aged 83.
Pnr. John George Edgar Davis
British Army 47th Signal Coy Royal Engineers
from:York
(d.7th Jun 1917)
2nd Lt. Melville Allen Duff Davis MC
British Army Kings Royal Rifle Corps
from:Tara, Ontario, Canada
(d.28th May 1918)
Melville Allen Duff Davis had a class 3 teaching certificate and taught locally circa 1914/15. He joined the University of Toronto O.S. Tr.coy then received a commission to the 1st Kings Royal Rifles. He reached France in May 1917.
Military Cross:"Ypres-Menin Road, 21st to 25th Aug. 1917 for conspicuous gallantry and devotion to duty. He was in charge of all carrying and ration parties up to the front line and carried out his task under very heavy shell fire with great success. During an enemy counter attack, when bombs were urgently needed in the front line, he led a carrying party with bombs up a road under an intense barrage, he also took command of his company, reorganized them and brought them out successfuly". Leg amputated. Died meningitis, Blackpool, England May 28, 1918
CSM Owen Walter Davis MID
British Army 9th Batallion Rifle Brigade
from:Tottenham
Pte. Percival James Davis
British Army 2nd (City of London) Battalion Royal Fusiliers
from:Dursley, Gloucestershire
(d.16th Oct 1916)
Percival Davis was born at Dursley Gloucestershire in 1894, son of Charles Edward Davis and Fanny Beata (Smith). He enlisted at the Mansion House London. He died of wounds and is buried at St Sever Cemetery, Rouen.
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