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My
Grandfather wrote the following memoirs after being wounded in
the
Gallipoli Campaign 1915, First World War.
(Born 1st August 1891 Died 15th October 1927)
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Last Updated:
1st June 2014 |
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My Part “In the Great War”
at
“Home and Active Service”
By James Robert John Hart ~ A.B. (RNVR)
London Z/608
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My Part in the Great War The
Country’s Call
The call of the country first
came to me early in September, but owing to various reasons
I did not respond, until a few weeks later. (Age
24 ~ by RJH)
In October 1914, I made my way to the Naval Depot London, for
the purpose of enlisting in the Royal Naval Volunteer Reserves,
as I had more desires for the navy than the army, although I
had not any experience in either. Later on I found that my desires
were to be very much crushed. There were also a few others who
enlisted at the same time, two whom I made friends with, namely
Harry Jackson and Jimmy Laxton and both proved very strong chums,
during my whole experience in the service. We stayed at the
Depot’s for a week, doing drills, in the meantime, and
then we were sent to the Crystal Palace, for a better training.
On arriving there we found that it was being made into a large
Naval Centre, for new recruits.
Nothing of very great interest happened at this place, only
that we did plenty of squad drilling, and forming fours, which
was enough to nearly send a fellow off his head.
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Jimmy
Laxton
London Z/615
James Montague Laxton |
Harry
Jackson
London Z/616
Henry Thomas Jackson |
It was here that
I made the acquaintance of another staunch chum namely Douglas
Stafford. |
Douglas Stafford
London Z/808
Douglas John Stafford
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The weeks passed here very quickly and we began to do all field
training, after which we were told we would be required for land
service. This was my great disappointment and it was also to [sic}
many more, I might say that I began to learn the meaning of Red
Tape, which was very prevalent. We next heard that we were to
be moved to a place called Blandford, in the county of Dorset,
and was told off, with a party to go on an advance guard. (Told
off, a Naval term for orders ~ by RJH)
It was on a Friday in February 1915, when the day came for our
departure into world’s unknown, and we left the Palace at
9.20 a.m. for Victoria. After changing into different trains we
landed safely at Waterloo. With just a beef sandwich and nothing
to drink, we started on our long journey. We stopped at some of
the stations, and in time reached Salisbury, half the journey
only, and we all felt as dry as the bone, but the only water we
could see was the flood, which was washing down the hill in torrents.
After a few minutes shunting we moved on again, but we did not
go far before we had to change for another line. Then we had another
ride for about an hour, and arrived at a little village on the
map called Blandford. With only the job of getting out our luggage,
and putting it in a steam wagon, we started on our never to be
forgotten walk to the camp, a distance of 5 miles. We jogged along
in mud, water, over our ankles, and in some places the water rushed
down the roads, the watercourse not being large enough to hold
it. We were getting near our destination when they called for
a halt, as we had been coming along at a rate, and they told us
that the camp was about 2 miles away. All that we craved for was
a drink, but it seemed useless to hope for one. After a few minutes
rest we started again, and arrived at our destination, with parched
lips, and pounced on the first tap we saw.
The fist thing we did was to draw a nice big blanket each, and
then we went to tea, which consisted of bully beef, and pickled
walnuts, but we greatly enjoyed it. After tea we made tracks for
our sleeping huts, and after diving about in the mud, we arrived
there safely. Never in my life have I seen so much mud, but as
there was not any alternative, we had to wade through the lot.
My first visit was to the canteen, and as it was a large plain
that we were situated on, in the dark it took some time to find.
Each Battalion had its own canteen, and the first I walked into
was the Bur canteen, of the Hawke Battalion. Taking our departure
from here we went in another hunt for the Y.M.C.A. and after being
smothered in mud all over, found the much desired place. With
just refreshment we returned to our sleeping quarters, but to
try and sleep was useless.
About 11-30 in the night my next bed chum asked me to pull a tooth
out for him, but after tugging at it for about half an hour, I
had to give up. (The Chum mentioned may have been George T Lovely ~ London Z/1237 'A' Coy Benbow KIA 25/03/18 France ~ Added by RJH see Serving Benbows )
Try and imagine if you can a lamp, and on the ground my chum,
while I was trying to pull out his tooth, to relieve his pain,
all without success. Thus ended our first day at Blandford.
Saturday February 20th 1915.
After a few hours sleep I awoke, feeling very sore in the back
from lying on a board nine foot long. Went to breakfast had salmon,
not any bread, or butter.
Our first duties were to make a pathway from the officer’s
quarters, and after several slips in the quagmire, we succeeded
in making a good path. Dinner time arrived, but we did not get
enough to fill us, so away to the canteen we had to go. There
was not much done in the afternoon, but in the evening we went
to Blandford Town, and never again for it was bad enough to have
to do it, apart for pleasure. This ended another day.
Sunday February 21st 1915
Sunday morning, I awoke, feeling much the same as the morning
previously, from the hard lying. Prepared for breakfast, which
consisted of bully beef. After this very small feast we lined
up for parade, and then received orders to start making footpaths.
This I can assure you was above a joke, and we all complained,
but it was no use, it had to be done, Sunday or not.
We had no knives or forks, so we had to make the best use of our
fingers, and as we had Irish stew for our dinner, we had to put
the plates to our mouths, and had to drink it. After dinner we
had to fall in again to do some more work, but after a time dismissed
ourselves, and so the day wore on. Sunday night was rather a lively
time, as we nearly got flooded out, and had to shift our beds,
at about 2.30 in the morning.
Monday February 23rd [sic] 1915 (22nd
~ by RJH)
Monday morning arrived with plenty of work in store for all, but
we had a very amusing time unloading straw from carts. The meals
never differed, and at dinner, complained to the officers.
In the afternoon got tea room ready, for the rest of Company,
and then got our straw beds at last, which reminded me very much
of the days I spent with “Friends Lads Camp”.
The Company arrived at last, and they looked like us, half dead.
We had plenty of food this tea time.
Tuesday February 23rd 1915
We had plenty to do this day, and as we were now getting plenty
of good food, we did it with good heart. In the morning worked
on Officers quarters lying turf’s, [sic/laying] and boards
for footpaths. In afternoon, rehearsal of review, and march-past,
for the King and Winston Churchill, this takes place Thursday.
Just getting used to our surroundings.
Wednesday February 24th 1915
Road and path making until dinner time. Food is getting much better.
Rehearsed, march past for the King, (on Thursday) in the afternoon,
finished up with bread and butter for tea.
Thursday February 25th 1915
My turn to cook, and was sorry to miss the Review by the King.
Dinner was the finest we had since our arrival in Blandford (that
we had today). In the afternoon went on with path making in front
of the Officers quarters, now getting settled to conditions, and
surroundings. Canteen for our own Battalion opened to day.
To give an idea of the camp, it is situated on the top of a hill,
with some higher hills in the background, which set the camp off
very nicely. The hills and the pure country extend for miles round.
The camp consists of the following Battalions ~ Hawke, Anson,
Nelson, Benbow, Drake, Howe, Hood, Collingwood, and several Battalions
of Royal Marine Light Infantry, not counting a vast army of transports.
All these Batt’s, [sic/Batts] are named after great admirals,
and in all told, it is a camp of over 20,000 men, and to see them
with, pith helmets on, and fixed bayonets, shinning in the sun,
was a scene I shall never forget, as they went to be reviewed
by the King. Several of these Battalions leave the camp on Saturday
(27th Feb ~ Deal, Nelson, and Drake
left via Avonmouth, by RJH)
Friday February 26th 1915
Nothing unusual happened to day only that I had to get free from
all duties in the afternoon owing to pains in the little Mary,
(stomach ache? ~ by RJH) but
after a few hours rest I was all right again. This being the end
of the first week at Blandford , an experience I have never had
before. I shall certainly try, and dodge an advance guard job
for the Battalion, when we move on again. There is no amusement
whatever to pass away the time and the only place to go is the
canteen, as the Y.M.C.A. (Type of
club By RJH) is so far off. So life in this camp is very
dull, and the only thing for the Chaps to do, is have a singsong
in the wooden hut.
We have all found out that we have left a good home, in leaving
the Crystal Palace, where everything was so handy to get, and
plenty of things to occupy ones [sic] time. Still I suppose this
comes under the hardening process.
After things had got settled and we had just about got used to
the place, they began to put us through it, drilling, long route
marches, day and night operations, in the field, and every thing
in the soldier’s line. But still we stuck it, and did very
well, and after about three months training, we were told we should
soon be moving off to the front, we were not told where, so we
had to wait and see. At last the day came for our departure, to
foreign lands unknown, for active service.
It was a glorious day in the first week
of May, when we said farewell, to the folks of Blandford. People
had come from miles around, to see us leave and wish us good luck.
Mothers, wives, and sweethearts all saying goodbye to their loved
ones, and it gave one such a feeling, that we were glad to get
away from that scene of farewell. We left Blandford with the long
journey to Plymouth before us, and in arriving there, proceeded
to embark on the troop ship HMS Ivernia (sunk
by submarine UB 47 Jan 1917~ by RJH)
which was aside the quay waiting for us. There were several other
troopships, so it was a very lively scene, boarding the different
boats.
I might mention that our own Company
(A Co Benbow Batt) was going on in advance of the other three companies.
We got on our allotted boat, and found it was a mixed affair, for
there was one company of the Hawke Batt, and the whole of the Collingwood
Batt, and a few Engineers.(A Coy, advance party left 12th May 1915
~ B,C,D Coy left on the 17th May ~by RJH)
We stayed at Plymouth for a few days a most miserable time for us
on board, as we laid in midstream, and it was horrible hanging about,
after we had left dock, but we eventually sailed away about 12-30
at night. Under cover of darkness we got well away to sea before
daybreak, escorted by the destroyer, HMS Lucifer, and HMS Loyal.
This was a new experience for me, sea all around, and the only thing
left to do, was to get used to it. We did not encounter bad weather
going through the Bay of Biscay, and that was a good thing too.
About here our escorts blew their sirens, as a sign of farewell,
and good luck, and then we travelled on our own. It was about this
quarter that a sharp lookout had to be kept, on account of submarines.
The first four or five days I suffered terribly with a vaccinated
arm accompanied by sea sickness, of which the latter is a most awful
thing to have, I can assure you.
We arrived at the Gibraltar Rock
on May 15th safe and sound, after days of dodging submarines. To
illustrate this rock, it stands a tremendous height above the sea
level, and resembles a huge lion lying down. We stayed there a few
hours to get orders where to go next, and then left at 4-30 p.m.
the same day. I was getting settled to all the conditions one has
to put up with, on a troopship, and the sea was so calm, just like
sailing on a sheet of glass.
The sun was getting much hotter,
and at first, took some getting accustomed too, for we could hardly
find shelter from the heat. After three days on the high sea we
sighted land, which was the coast of Sardinia, and here we were
forced to get well inland, having been chased by submarines.
On May19th we arrived at Malta, and stayed there until next day.
We coaled the ship here, or rather the Natives did, and well we
knew it, for although we did not do any, we were as black as Niggers,
(common term for black people in 1915
~by RJH) owing to the dust flying about. At Malta there is
a very good harbour for all sorts of shipping, and from the water
one has to look high, to see the town on the hillside. We made our
departure from here 7-30 p.m. May 20th for our next destiny.
Still going strong we started getting in among the Grecian Archipelago’s
(some islands) after which, travelling for two days we found our
way safely to Lemnos Bay, arriving at 7 p.m. on May 22nd. Lemnos
Bay was formerly part of the Turkish Empire, but on the outbreak
of the war was
claimed by the allies, also Mudros, which was chiefly inhabited
by Greeks.
The next day we all went ashore, to get a little exercise, as we
felt so stiff lying about on board ship. It was not a nice place
to visit as the place was in a horrible state, for all the old refuse
was lying about the streets, and it caused such a smell, due no
doubt to the heat of the sun. We went for a short route march in
the country, and here we saw workmen on the land, using the old
time plough, drawn by oxen. It was getting dinner time so our Commander
called a halt. We were supplied with bully beef, and hard biscuits,
but the former was in a bad state to be given to us, for the heat
of the sun had caused the fat to melt, so it ran out like water.
After this, we made our way back to the village, where our Commander
told us we could have an hours [sic] leave to look over the village.
Mudros was being used for a hospital base for Australian wounded
soldiers, also there was an interment camp with hundreds of Turkish
prisoners, and this place was surrounded by barbed wire guarded
by soldiers. It was a base for the French also. After seeing all
the sights we made for the harboured troopship once more, this change
had broken the monotony, which was beginning to tell on us. When
we got back to the ship we were told that this was as far as we
should be going with her. The Collingwood battalion left first,
and we followed soon after.
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The following is an account of my adventures while On Gallipoli
Peninsula
I will try and relate my short
but very trying experience in the campaign of Gallipoli Peninsula,
which after terrible fierce fighting, our troops were eventually
forced to evacuate.
We left the troopship Ivernia at a place called Lemnos Bay and
continued our journey, a distance of about sixty or seventy miles,
on a smaller ship, (HMS Hythe ~ by
RJH) as it was too dangerous for the troopship to go near
the war zone, owing to enemy submarines, which were very plentiful
in those waters. The first thing that so impressed me was one
of our warships, which a few days previously had been sunk, and
all that could be seen of it was just the keel sticking out of
the water. It was a green colour, and at a distance looked like
a porpoise just jumping out of the water. The Majestic was torpedoed
very mysteriously, and was very near the coast when done. It simply
turned completely over, and I should imagine stands upside down
on its mast, a very good sight to see.
On passing this wreck, we landed on the famous V Beach, by way
of the well known ship River Clyde, which was run ashore in the
first landing (25th April 1915~by
RJH) to help cover the troops while landing. From the string
of smaller boats which ran from the Clyde to the shore, forming
a kind of bridge we were able to get to the shore without having
to wade. The River Clyde has been termed the Ship of Troy on account
of the splendid way it was built. After landing from this famous
bridge of boats the picture presented to me was very grim, and
it seemed to tell me that our business here was going to be somewhat
of a serious nature.
It was on Sunday morning May
25th 1915 [sic] (Sunday falls on
the 23rd or the 30th by RJH) that I made my appearance
on this famous peninsula, just as dawn was beginning to break.
It was a general thing for the Turks to send over their morning
“Hate” (as we called it) by severely shelling our
landing place, but on this particular morning we had rather better
treatment.
From the beach we went forward to our position in the Naval Brigade
lines, and on our way we saw the splendid work which had been
done by the battleship Queen Elizabeth, Turkish forts were smashed
(Sedd el Bahr? by RJH ) to
the ground, showing the terrible weapons of war, in the way of
guns. We could also see the spot where such a large number of
our Gallant Irish, 29th Division, lost their lives. (Dublin
Fusiliers? by RJH)I was told there were eighty to a hundred
all buried in one hole together, and a large cross was erected
on this grave to the memory of the brave heroes. There were many
other graves with crosses, just to mark the spot, and [sic] name,
of others who had fallen. This cemetery was surrounded by barbed
wire to keep the horses from straying over it.
We arrived at our allotted position, and orders soon came round
to dig in as quickly as possible, up to this time I had not heard
the noise of a big gun firing. We were not very long before we
were hard at it with pick and shovel, but the ground in places
was like a lot of rock, and this made it very hard work for us.
We had to dig our dugouts five foot deep, I had got about two
feet down with my little hole, when all of a sudden our officer
shouted his very loud order to lie down, and to get as much cover,
and no sooner had he given this order a large Turkish shell burst
into our lines. This was their morning hate to us fresh comers.
For about three hours they rained shells on us, and we were working
our hardest to get our dugouts done, so that we could get better
cover from this rain of iron. At last we managed to get these
done, but not without any casualties, as some were killed or wounded.
This to me was something new, and I must admit made me feel very
shaky for the terrible screaming noise was an awful sensation,
as they shot very close to my dugout, sending up huge clouds of
smoke and gravel sky high.
After a time I began to wonder where the British, and French were
holding there position. Away in the front of me, (see
south of the of the Krithia Road trench system? by RJH)
about six miles was a huge hill running right across the peninsular
and appeared to me like another Gibraltar, an impregnable position,
held by the enemy. This hill is known as Achi Baba and stands
at a height of 860 feet above the sea level, giving the enemy
full survey of the land in front. Knowing every inch of the ground
we had taken from them, they could drop shells wherever it was
their wish. The nature of the country was very rugged, and proved
a difficult task for our troops, as the land to them was strange.
This was the hill we were trying to wrest from the Turks. On my
left I could seethe remains of what was once a Turkish village
namely Korithia. [sic] It had been smashed to pieces in the first
bombardment of our battleships. All that remains of it are a few
ruined walls. Of this village I cannot say much, but one thing
is known that our soldiers entered the village but could not stay
there, as the stench arising from the dead bodies forced them
back to former positions. I might state that the majority of the
inhabitants were woman and children, the Turks would not allow
them to escape thinking that we British would not shell the town
while they were there. Also to my left I found out that the famous
29th Division helped by the Gurkhas, (6th
Ghurkhas? by RJH) with the Naval Division, holding the
centre, comprised the British Lines. The French were holding the
position on the extreme right.
This is how I found things,
which was none to pleasant I can assure you. The first thing of
importance that happened was a Battalion of the RND “Collingwood”
going into action. On the 4th June, there was a general advance
towards Achi Baba, and it was in this advance that the “Collingwood”
Battalion was annihilated in a battle for several trenches. It
so happened that the French were forced to retire leaving the
right flank exposed which the Turks were quick to find out, then
they very soon enfiladed (a position
in which troops are exposed to gunfire along the length of their
formation. by RJH) the trenches, the unlucky Battalion
had gained. At last they had to fall back, those that were lucky
enough to be alive, very few ever returned and were up to the
time I came away, still lying in the open, waiting to be buried.
It was an awful day for the division, but credit was all due to
those poor gallant fellows. They had only been there just a week,
and they were called on to do this job. We had hardly got used
to the terrible noises, it was just luck that our Battalion the
Benbow’s was not called upon, but we should have done our
best, as that fated Battalion did.
The next day we had orders that we were to move towards the firing
line. We had sand bags issued to us, also ammunition, as much
as we could carry. The next [sic] we had was either a pick axe,
or shovel. Well at last we made a move towards the trenches, but
not without Johnny Turk seeing us. We had about four miles to
walk in the open before we reached our destination. The Turks
as soon as they saw our movement began to shell us heavily, and
it was on this occasion that we lost many men, and officers. I
admired our old Colonel, for while under this heavy rain of shells
he walked on encouraging us to follow. I was marching in the first
four lines of the Battalion and to see this old man still carrying
on, one could see he had been under fire, in other earlier campaigns.
I did not like the new experience at all, as the shrapnel (metal
balls or fragments that are scattered when a shell, bomb, or bullet
explodes by RJH) was bursting near me. One of our officers
was trying to tell us that it was only our own shells, but he
never forgot to take cover, and look after his own skin. We were
just finding out for ourselves where the shells were coming from
so we did not take much notice of what he said, as it was a case
of Jack look after your self.
At last we arrived at the gully, which afforded us a shelter from
the shells. It was here that we came into the vicinity of bullets,
and also where our Colonel (Col Oldfield
5th June RJH) got a bullet through his knee [sic] which
caused his retirement from the scene of action, for a good long
while. This day seemed to be the finishing up of the Benbow Battalion,
although we had not been in any charge the shells bursting among
us caused as much damage. The next day we reached the firing line
and the sights that I witnessed there, I never want to see again.
They were just bringing down the wounded that had fallen in action
the previous day, and being fresh to me, I was very much impressed
by the sight. I was standing in the trench in the firing line
waiting for our next order, when a Turkish shell burst over scattering
bullets every where. In this case I was very fortunate as a bullet
just grazed my nose, and shot into the earth, doing no damage
whatever, but I can assure you I moved away from the spot.
I next found out that we were up there to do fatigue work, if
required. It was the officer of one of the Army Regiments who
soon gave our officer some thing to do, and the dangers of the
work was immense. We were in the trenches that had been taken
from the Turks the previous day, and when it got dark it was none
to pleasant, as we could still hear the moaning of the wounded
who had gone too far, and unable to get back again. To try and
help them was too risky, so they had to remain there. At any time
the Turk’s were expected to make a counter attack, to gain
back the trenches they had lost.
Now and again some poor nervy fellow, who had been in action,
would call out, and say the Turk’s were advancing. The next
we heard was that one of the regiments was running short of ammunition,
so we were ordered by our officer to pass ours along, shortly
after our sandbags as well. We next received, fix bayonets, and
told to be prepared, but thank goodness Johnny Turk never came,
as I had not got used to things yet.
Our next job was to go out in front of the firing line, and to
dig out a communication trench, with orders that as soon as the
Turks sent up their starlight’s, we were to fall flat to
the ground, so that they should not see us, and what we were doing.
We were well away with our dangerous task, when all of a sudden
up went the lights showing all so clearly about us. We were only
twenty five yards from the enemy trenches, so we had to be very
quiet, and careful. There were dead lying all around us, and to
have to lie down, and find yourself among them was simply ghastly.
We had about an hour of this, and we were told to come in. Our
officer in charge on hearing where he had been with us said he
would not have walked about so easy if he had known. It was a
great relief to get back to the firing trenches once again. It
was managed very well, and without any loss.
The first young fellow that I personally knew was shot in the
head while proceeding along the line, the next day it was my duty
to help bury him, as he was one, of our section. We did our best
to make a good resting place for the poor unfortunate fellow,
who had been such a short time in action. The officer read a portion
out of the bible over him, and to see us four standing round his
rough grave, would, would bring the hardest man to tears. It brought
it home to us, our own personal position, and for myself I felt
grieved, and a few tears came to our eyes, as we saw the last
of this young fellow, so young, and enjoying good health. It made
me think who would be the next to answer the call. After the little
ceremony was over we placed a roughly made cross on his grave,
bearing his name etc. Shells were falling around us all the time,
while giving our last duty to one of our fallen comrades. We then
made for our dug outs and remained there for two or three days.
A party was then called out to locate snipers,
as several of our lads had been sniped off. I missed that party,
but was told off for a night work party, which is far more dangerous,
as the Turks are firing all night, and stray bullets come over
in galore. My job that night was to help take huge boulders up
to the firing line, to make new redoubts. (A redoubt is a shelter
with a circular trench round it, where messages are received from
general headquarters Redoubts are mostly guarded by about twenty
men who are not allowed to let anyone enter the shelter. They
are usually just behind the front firing line, and it is the duty
of the twenty men to hold that position, even if the troops are
forced from the trench in front of it. It is a responsible duty,
and if the occasion does arise one has to fight for dear life.)
We got about half way with our heavy loads, and the bullets came
pouring down about us. This was the first time we had been in
this part of the firing line, so our N.C.O. had not the least
idea where we were going. Had it not been for one of the “Old
Stagers” coming along, we should have walked right into
the hands of the Turks. We were all jolly glad when this job was
over, and when we got back to our quarters the N.C.O. in charge,
complimented us on our splendid discipline, under such trying
circumstances.
We had not been there very long, before we found out that to get
a good night sleep, was absolutely impossible. You are told off
to go on guard, and as luck would have it, in my case, it was
always a watch between 1 o’clock am, until 3am, just the
hours when one has to keep a sharp look out for any movement of
the enemy. All this time we were between the firing line, and
what is called, the rest camp, and the very base. Then came the
order that we were to move to this rest camp, and it was received
with great joy, as we knew that there, we would be safe from stray
bullets. On our way there, it was a very common sight to see mules
lying about, that had been killed, by the shrapnel.
We arrived at the rest camp feeling done up, I might mention here
that I had been 9 days landed from the ship, and up to this time
I had not had a wash, soap and water were both very scarce, but
never less I made this my first job, despite the many drawbacks.
I might also add that the drinking water was very bad, but owing
to the terrific heat of the sun we were forced to drink it. The
bully beef, and biscuits were very hard to digest, but we soon
got used to all these difficulties. Our breakfast usually consisted
of a very salt piece of bacon, and a little tea, and sugar, with
a biscuit, and some bully beef for dinner (no desert.)[sic] For
supper we had more biscuit, with cheese, if the sun had not melted
it during the day, or the flies had not eaten it. Now and again
we change our menu, by smashing up some biscuit, mixing it with
a little water, boil it for a few minutes, after this, mix with
a little of the famous plum and apple jam. All our meals were
very salt, which compelled us to drink more water than we should
have done. Now and again we had a fly stew, as we called it. We
were going along fairly well when one day we noticed a stir in
our lines. On enquiring, we learned that owing to our Battalions
having such heavy casualties, we were to be put with another Battalion,
who also had heavy losses, to make one strong one. This news seemed
to upset the old lads, as after being so long together they did
not care about being parted. We had got used to all our officers,
and anyone can imagine how we felt when we said good bye to our
old mates, and officers. I was transferred to the Nelson Batt.
And the only thing left to do was to get used to it, but I soon
found out that my lot was by no means easy. (12th
June 1915 ~ by RJH)
We were soon shoved off to the trenches digging nearly all day
long, doing guard duties at night, and not a bit of peace. It
was nothing but hard work, for when we were not digging, we were
holding the main firing line, against attack. The first attack
that I witnessed was an attack made on a Turkish redoubt, by the
Hawke Battalion RND. The position we held at the time was, Nelson
Avenue, (19th June see trench
map facing page 139 & 140~Royal Naval Division by D Jerrold
~ by RJH) and was a very awkward
place to deal with an attack, on the Turks. We had orders to fire
at a certain spot which all of us thought was a very bad move,
but found out that it was a very good one.
The attack was supposed to come of about twelve o’clock.
It was pitch black, and I could hardly see my hand in front of
me for it was my turn to go on guard from 11pm to 12pm. We had
to be very careful, when looking over the trenches because at
night we could not use a periscope so one has to pop his head
up quickly, look around, and down again, like a jack in a box.
I had just done this when it seemed to me that the Turks were
getting uneasy, and bullets were coming over faster than before.
I went on my guard. All of a sudden a loud cheer rent the air.
The Hawke Batt. (Co A ~ by
RJH) had crawled within 50 yards
of the Turks trenches, and then made a final charge. It gave me
a fright, as things were so quiet before. Then bullets rained
all over the place, the Hawke’s got in the redoubt, and
we fired where we were told. In the morning we saw a sight we
did not bargain for. When the Turks retired from this point, they
were forced to go down a gully, then up again to the open, to
a communication trench. Johnny Turk did not think we were training
our fire on this point, and when he came into it, he never got
through. It was nothing, but a mass of dead, and in the open on
a slight slope, and could be seen for miles, quite plainly. There
were a lot still in the deep gulley (which is more like a deep
pit, caused by the rushing of water, when the monsoons come on)
waiting to try, and escape, but it was now daylight, and they
were all finished off, as the day went on.
The next few days the Turks gave me a little idea of his fighting
qualities. A big strong Turk came out with his coat off, and his
sleeves turned up. He was a bomb thrower, (Grenade
thrower. My other Grandfather, was also a bomb thrower in the
Royal Sussex Regiment 13th Battalion ~ SD 3724 Charles Woolford.
He was honourably discharged on the 14th Jan 1918, after being
wounded ~ by RJH) and seeing this
we allowed him to get near the redoubt, and then the whole Nelson
line opened fire on him. He dropped like a log, never to rise
again, such pluck, and daring is just as frequent with the Turk,
as in our own army. They attacked this position they had lost
several times, which eventually, we were, forced to retire from,
after holding it about four days. It was hard to have to give
way, but during their attacks, we had suffered heavy losses, and
we gradually got too weak to hold on. It was the Turks [sic] redoubt
again, after heavy losses on both sides. I might mention here
that the time spent in the firing line is eight days, then a supposed
rest at the base, and up at the firing line again. When we went
from the firing line there was nothing else to look forward to,
but a week of hard work, either digging, or blowing up large lumps
of rock to make trenches. If we did get any time to spare we would
be seen killing flies, and fleas, which annoyed us very much.
The same routine was carried out at the base, as regarding doing
night, and even day duty. Some nights I was on guard, and it was
a strange feeling in the dead of night to hear the pitiful braying
of the horses even they, seem to understand the danger they are
in. The food was getting horrible; the weather was so hot that
the bully beef ran out of the tins like water, giving one very
small appetite to eat such stuff, but we had to put up with it
best we could.
The sleeping accommodation here was a kind of open air treatment
as the only cover we had was the sky over us, and well we knew
it when the rain came down. When a cloud bursts in an Eastern
country it seems to fall in buckets full at a time. These storms
generally come at night, and if asleep, you wake up and find yourself
wet to the skin, a very uncomfortable feeling I can assure you,
but one advantage is that it is soon dried by the heat of the
sun. It is a beautiful sight to see the sunset, and many a time,
when at liberty I have watched it, this grand scene of the sun
sinking in the west. I had not got a watch to tell me the time,
so I used to get my time, as near as possible, by the sun. At
night I used to get my bearings by the Great North Star then I
knew what part of the globe I was on, and where the old country
was situated also.
Having gone rather a long time without a wash, we thought one
day that a bathe on the shores of the peninsula, would not do
us any harm. The Turks however managed to see us, and gave us
a few shells to get on with, but we managed to get across the
plain to the water quite safely. The scene here was not very inviting
however, for dead horses were floating about in the water, but
these things did not trouble us long, so in I went with a crowd
of the boys. The Turks were soon quick to notice us in the water,
and were perhaps a little jealous of our weekly wash. They killed
two of our lads in the water, and I was not long before I was
missing from it, never to go there again for a wash.
Our week of rest was over, and back again to the trenches we went.
Every week there was some big engagement, so we always had the
idea that we were going to see something. There was a general
feeling that it was much safer in the firing line, than it was
at the rest camp, for the Turkish guns could not manage to locate
the trenches, but they knew every inch of the base camp.
All went well the first few days, but early one morning it would
be getting about daybreak our artillery, and the French 75mm guns,
also our battleship, opened fire on the Turks [sic] front line
position. It was nothing but a rain of shell into their trenches
for about four hours. It was a terrible cannonade, and then just
as the sun rose over the hills the order came along the line to
fix bayonets. This was done and made a beautiful, but gruesome
spectacle. The bayonets glittered in the sun, and were showing
over the top of our parapets, right from one end of the firing
line to the other .This ruse was done to frighten Johnny Turk,
also so that he would not know from where the advance was to be
made. It proved to be rather a good one, for the Turks had to
man the whole of their front line trench. It so happened to be
the French, who had to make the advance and so they did and Johnny
was caught napping this time. I was in a very good place to see
the Turks make a counter attack on the French, and drive them
back a trench. It was from here that I saw the splendid powers
of the French gunners with their famous 75mm. The Turks again
attacked, and were coming forward in a mass; all huddled up together
like a lot of sheep. One could see that they were being driven
out to make an attack. They were allowed to get half way across
right out in the open, then the guns played havoc, and the whole
line seemed to stop dead, not knowing where to go, or what to
do, for shelter. It seemed as though hundreds were being blown
sky high, and very few ever got back to their trenches again.
A few did get across, but they were forced down the R.N.D. lines.
This is where a terrible thing happened, for the Turks jumped
into a trench held by the Anson Battalion, and in the surprise
several were killed, and badly wounded. This Batt, earned a very
good name in the first landing, but was very much disgraced for
not keeping a sharper look out, on this occasion. The Turks that
paid this surprise visit were soon finished off in their hasty
retreat, as we had a very good view of all that happened where
our Batt was engaged. For hours, after this engagement the Turks
were seen to be running all over the place, they simply lost their
heads it was a rough time for them. I know after that, I thought
I would have something to eat, but when I had got it ready I seemed
to have sickened against it, after what I had seen. I also had
a very heavy mail come to me at the time, and my thoughts were
if they were to see such goings on. I know it was the picture
of the flags of the Allies, and the British bulldog, that impressed
me a good deal, and so those exciting moments soon past from my
mind.
So our time passed on and then away back, to the old rest camp
again, to be in fear of the shells finding you out. As I have
mentioned before rest for the troops on the Peninsula was very
scarce, one could not sleep in the daytime on account of the worrying
flies, and more so the terrific heat of the sun. About this time
I had a very narrow escape, while sitting in a crevice in my dugout.
A shell from the Asiatic Coast, which we called “Asiatic
Annie”, burst right over our camp, and a large piece came
down and tore the sleeve of my jacket, then, buried itself about
a foot deep in the ground. My chums rushed up to me, to see if
I was hurt, but happily I was still smiling although somewhat
shaken up. Some of our lads went under with the same shell, it
was the nearest I think I had, but good fortune still favoured
me.
It was about this time when I was very much annoyed with the Turks,
for as I have mentioned before, they gave us every morning a good
shelling, by way of saying good morning, which was as good as
an alarm clock, and we did not need a second calling. Their morning
hate on this occasion was worse than ever before. Breakfast time
came round, and we began to get hungry, but still they were at
it, so we got our little fires going, by means of just crawling
out of our dug outs. I had got my little canteen of water on the
boil, for a cup of tea, also a piece of salt bacon, with a biscuit
soaking in the fat, when all of a sudden we heard the scream of
a shell. We all made one rush for our little holes, and in the
melee my breakfast went flying in the sand. I was not the only
one who had this misfortune, and of course we all had a general
laugh over the scuffle. Having no more wood, (which was very scarce)
I could not get any more breakfast, so my chum who had had better
luck than myself, invited me to share his meal.
The days at the rest camp passed on, and we seemed to lose count
of the days, but we could always tell Sunday, as more often big
attacks, and artillery duals, took place. Sunday arrived at this
particular time, and I was told by a young fellow that a Wesleyan
chaplain was holding a short service at six o’clock in the
evening. It was a long time since I had been in touch with this
gentleman, so I thought I would go and hear him speak a few words
of comfort. I managed to get to his little place, and found it
was right in the open, in full view of Achi Baba, but we found
a better shelter in a dug-out. He told us that he took a great
responsibility holding this short service, and if we heard any
shells come screaming over, to make for the cover, we found best,
We had our own little books with us, so we could choose any one
we liked. Of course we chose all the good old hymns and started
of with Nearer my God to Thee, then O God our help in ages past,
and when it came to, Time like an ever rolling stream, bears all
its Sons away, we all seemed choked, for it brought back old times
and memories of the dear ones left behind, and we knew that at
any time the call might come to anyone of us in that isolated
place. We got through the singing alright, and then the chaplain
spoke to us for about five minutes, not a sermon, but good sound
advice, which we all enjoyed very much. The little meeting we
ended up, by singing a good rousing tune. When the roll is called
up yonder, this cheered us up for the next day, we were to carry
on to the firing line again, and it gave us courage, so I left
the meeting very much better for having attended. The Turks never
bothered us much, for which we were glad.
When I got back to my little dug-out, my chum told me, he had
heard us singing and wished that he had been there also, I knew
just how he felt for I had had the same experience. I had heard
singing, but it was too far away to be able to get at. It is very
strange to hear the singing of hymns on the battlefield, for the
music seems to resound everywhere for miles around. That was the
best Sunday I had enjoyed, for months past. When we got back to
the trenches there was a rumour that the R.N.D. were going to
be withdrawn from the trenches altogether, which of course cheered
us all considerably as many of our Batt were old sailors, and
they wanted to get back on board again. Weeks passed, and we were
still taking our turn in the trenches, until at last we gave up
hope, and although we heard the same rumour again, it went to
the wind.
The strain was very severe, being all work and no play. When at
the rest camp it was a case of watching the sky, as now and again,
there might be a little excitement, caused by a duel in the air.
The Turks liked potting at aeroplanes, but in the meantime they
did not forget to send [sic] over to us, as well, quickly ending
our excitement as we made a move, for it is a case of bob down
your [sic] spotted. Occasionally German Taubes (German
reconnaissance aircraft ~some troops used it to describe any German
aircraft ~by RJH) would fly over
us, and drop bombs and scraps of paper, with advice, telling us
to either get off the peninsula, or be driven into the sea. It
also stated that we were losing terribly on all fronts, but this
German bluff never served, to put the damper on our feelings.
We were not allowed to leave our dug-outs, and as there were not
any shops out there, we could not get anything to make a change
in our diet. So that is how we used to live, more like rabbits,
for if we heard any shells coming, down our holes we would go.
It was really laughable to see us sometimes, but very serious,
if any of the shells found one of us. When we wanted to get a
supply of water, when in the firing line, we would have a dig
about nine inches square and three feet deep. Then leave it for
a while, but occasionally our labours were in vain. Some of the
water was quite clean, and some was a milky colour, and also dirty,
but this did not worry us long, if we were in a hurry for a drink.
It was very often the case that we ran short of water, and then
parties were told off to walk about two miles, and get some, where
there was a fairly good supply of it, pumped from a well. The
water was brought up in large skins, which are used by all the
people in Eastern countries, for carrying water. I can well remember
being told off with a party to get some water, but instead of
using the skins we brought it in biscuit tins. The supply was
in the open just near a shrapnel gully, so all the proceeding
party had to keep well out of sight as well as possible, for the
Turks has a very quick eye for any movement. We got along to this
gully, and while waiting for fresh orders, put down our tins,
very much in the open, not one of us had had a wash for several
days, and as there were a little stream running by, we took advantage
of this few minutes rest, We did not have any soap, or towels
with us, but the water was very refreshing on such a hot day,
and we made use of our handkerchiefs for wiping purposes.
This done we thought we would have a lay down, and some of the
lads had got nicely settled, but not for long, as our biscuit
tins had given us away. The sun, by shining on the tins, had attracted
the attention of the Turks at once telling them that we were going
for water. They made it their business to stop us, and the next
minute were sending over shells in galore. The first one that
came over to us told us we were spotted, and the scene was soon
changed, from one of peace, to confusion. Some of our party lay
flat on the ground, while I with a few others found ourselves
up to our knees in the stream, taking cover under a piece of rock
that jutted out over the water. Shrapnel bullets were spitting
about all over the place and in the water as well. In the interval
of the shells coming over, all my mates had disappeared, and I
found myself in the water alone. I soon paddled after them, as
fast as my legs would carry me, in the hope of finding them. When
I did find them, they were all protesting about going to get the
much needed water, and as we had lost our N.C.O. in the melee
we decided that the water would have to be got on some other occasion.
Johnny Turk had scored a point with us that day, and also spoilt
the chance of a much needed rest.
We had just finished another week in the firing line, when our
officer ordered us out to the different trenches in the firing
line, to give them a good clean up. The Navy has always been known
for its cleanliness etc. and so were we, when ever we occupied
any part of the firing line, for we still kept up our good points
while on land. This job done, we were told that our trenches were
being handed over to the army. So we left the lines spick [sic]
and span. We learned after that a Scottish Regiment were to take
them over, which rather pleased us, for they were a fine big lot
of fellows just fresh out, and new to the life. One Scot said
to me Jack, where is that hill they want taken, and of course
I looked at him thinking he was trying to pull my leg. True I
well knew what he meant, and pointed to Achi Baba. I knew, but
he didn’t, how we had tried for that position, and how in
vain it seemed. Well he said to me, “that wee hill yonder”
and I nodded my head, so he said, “The Scots” will
take that for you. So could we have done, if there had, been a
camera handy, and we left the Scotchmen to do their best. How
we thought we were in for brighter times, but things were getting
very serious in the fighting line, and we were done again.
On the fifth night that we had been out in the trenches, orders
came, that each man was to have as much ammunition as he could
carry, two small sandbags, and a pickaxe, and to be ready to move
off at 2am. We all looked at one another in surprise, and began
to enquire what was doing. When the time came for us to be on
the move we found out that we were required in the firing line.
This news did not cheer us much for what with being very tired,
and having heavy loads to carry, we looked more like beasts of
burden, and felt more dead, than alive.
While on our way up to the firing line we came across a few hundred
Turkish prisoners being escorted to the base, and we learned that
the Scots had been in a smash up with them. I looked for the Scots
on Achi Baba, but they had done their best, poor fellows, and
had also, no doubt, found out their mistake. On going up to their
position we saw sights enough to turn a man out of his mind. We
saw where the poor fellows had crawled away to die, and we our
beautiful clean trenches like a pigsty. The Scots had done very
well in a charge on a position, we had tried for months to get,
but they had suffered terrible losses.
At last we got to our well known places and were told the places
our army had captured, and to keep a sharp look out. We had been
in the line about half an hour, (12th
July? ~ RJH) when I saw the Scotchmen
returning from their position for all they were worth. They had
been holding a Turkish trench, and got panicky, and turned, and
ran and we thought, they were going right down to the beach. One
of our officer’s [sic] seeing this dangerous move, leapt
over the parapet, and went over to these poor fellows, and rallied
them, amidst loud cheers all along the line. He gained the highest
award for this brave action, but was afterwards found out, to
have received fatal wounds. For nine hours he suffered acute pains,
and then died. This happened early in the morning, and little
did we think we should be travelling over the same ground in the
afternoon, but it was as well that we never knew. As the morning
went on we gradually moved away from our old lines, and went away
as if we were going back to the base again, but we soon found
out our mistake.
All this time we had been on the move, without the least chance
of getting a snack of food, and the last we had was the day previous.
We had got one bottle of water each and we had to go sparing with
it. We arrived at Shrapnel Gully (so named on account of so many
getting knocked out there by shrapnel) and passed it safely, to
find our selves proceeding to the lines that the other Batts of
the R.N.D., had held next to the French. These trenches and the
ground in front of them were all unknown to us. Well, we managed
to get along to the front with a lot of trouble and on our way
passed several Turkish prisoners, being escorted down to the back
of the lines. We stayed there for about four hours and we were
not allowed to start to get any food for ourselves, neither did
we know what was going to take place. (Nelson
Batt moved to Backhouse Post during the night 12th/13th July by
~ RJH)
The French and the British artillery began to get stronger and
stronger in sending out their shells of death, until the noise
was so deafening, you could not hear what the next man was saying
to you. The poor old Scots, (Highland
Light Infantry? by RJH) had been
forced to retire from the trenches, they had gained, that was
why such a cannonading was going on. But we did not know anything
of this; all we did was to lay [sic] down at the bottom of our
trenches, for cover from our own guns, which were bursting near
us. Since then we have learned that our own Colonel had offered
to make a charge with his Battalion to regain the trenches the
Scots had lost.
About 4-30 pm an order came along the line to be prepared at any
time, to move off, and we thought that we were done for the day,
and going back to our resting base. But no, we were going back
to the front firing line, and when we got there the shells were
bursting in the trenches, and upset us a bit. (Attack
carried out by Nelson and Portsmouth Battalion? by RJH) Then
an order came down, to fix bayonets, and over the parapet, when
the whistle blew, followed by another order, to go over two trenches,
and hold on to the third at any cost. (Tuesday
13thJuly ~ see page 143 Royal Naval Divisions by ~ RJH)
I turned to an old chum of mine, and said “ Its come at
last”, and shaking hands, and wishing each other the best
of good luck, over into the open we went, many of the poor fellows
only just got out the trench, and before they had a chance to
run were, either killed or badly wounded. I cannot say how it
was I missed such a fate, but I simply kept running, and I certainly
was not in my right senses. I came to the first trench without
getting hit, and beheld a terrible sight. All I could see was
dead bodies, and I could hear the dying calling for water, but
all I had in my head was to get over two trenches, and hold the
third at any cost. (See p145
~ the battles of June & July ~ Royal Naval Divisions by RJH)
Still running, I came to the second trench, which I believe was
a dummy trench, set with mines, so I jumped quite clear of that,
and proceeded to the hoped for position. The time I had been running
made me begin to feel puffed out, and I began to think that if
I went on much longer, at this rate I should soon be on Achi Baba,
when all of a sudden I came to a very deep slope in the ground,
over which I had to jump. While jumping this little gulf I badly
sprained my ankle, and when I got up to make another run for the
desired trench I found I could only walk, running was quite out
of the question. So I started to walk on again, forgetting the
dangers, from the Turkish artillery, machine guns, and rifles.
As I walking along an old chum of mine seemed to come out of the
earth, and walked with me. He was just about finished, but he
asked me what I thought of it all, and I could hardly talk to
him.
All of a sudden a bullet caught
me, and it was a very funny sensation for it seemed to twist me
round, and then I dropped flat to earth. It had hit me in the
head, and I did not know where, for a minute. It felt as if it
had hit me in the neck, but I found it had gone through my upper
lip then into my tunic, at the top of my arm, just missing my
arm. I was lying there in the open, feeling somewhat dazed wondering
what to do next, so I raised myself just a little, and I saw that
the advance trench was about 30 to 40 yards in front, and also
a few of my poor comrades lying dead near me. Then I thought that
I would make a move towards the trench, but just as I was about
to go I heard a rattle of bullets just over my head. I stopped,
and to my horror found they were trying to finish me of [sic]
with a machine gun. I began to give myself up as finished, when
I saw a large hole just beside me, ( made by one of the Turkish
shells) which I thought would make good cover for me, but my second
thoughts proved to save my life. I had made up my mind to crawl
forward and just as I did so another shell burst into the hole.
This gave me a good shaking up, but at last I gained my desires,
yet still they could not let me alone, for the snipers were still
trying hard for me.
|
William
Lewis Watts ~ Able Seaman ~ Z/68 ~ Nelson ~ late Benbow
Battalion ~KIA 13/07/15 ~ Age 17 ~ by RJH |
When I crawled over the parapet
to my horror I saw lying dead at the bottom, the fellow who only
a few minutes before, had asked me what I thought of it all. His
eyes just rolled over, and closed, so I thought it was of no use
to try, and help him. He had been shot through the stomach by
an explosive bullet, and it made me think then that if I had not
been shot previously, it might have been my fate. There were just
a few running about in this trench, that had got across quite
safely, and they seemed quite off their heads in excitement, but
there was just one officer there to take charge of affairs. I
managed to get a rough bandage round my face by a man who passed
me, thinking I had been finished; by the way I had fallen to the
ground. The first thing the fellows did was to make a parapet,
of whatever they could get, and not being able to get enough sandbags,
they had to pile up the dead, in front of them for protection.
I with a good many others were useless, so we had to lay in the
bottom of the trench, until night came. It was an awful time to
wait, and we were a good way up in the Turkish lines, right away
from our own. The Engineers were sapping away for all they were
worth, so as they could join the captured trenches, to our own,
and as we had charged at least 800 yards, it was some time before
they could reach us.
We were expecting all the time, that the Turks would make a charge,
to regain their trenches, but thank goodness they had had enough
of it, for one day, and so had we. Being very weak, in the advanced
line, we called for help from one of the other Battalions, who
soon came to our aid. At last night fell, and all wounded had
to get away, as quickly as possible. We had to go a little way
in the open, (at least those that could manage to) and then into
a trench that had been occupied by the Turks in the morning. Not
knowing the ground we were going over, we had to be very careful,
for snipers were always lurking about, and none of us carried
any rifles. Then we managed after a while to get someone to lead
us the right way, and saw a sight that will always be in my mind.
A good hundred yards of this trench was filled with dead Turks,
lying on top of one another, and some of our men too, and we had
to walk over them a most horrible sensation, I never wish to have
again. The parapets here were nothing else, but dead bodies and
we had to wear respirators on account of the terrible smells from
them. At last we got to our old lines again which was quite a
relief to us wounded fellows. From there I proceeded to the dressing
room a distance to walk, about just over a mile. Even there my
luck seemed to be dead out, for while there, a bullet hit me in
the arm, and although it was only a slight wound, it was a near
squeak. I went there with one wound, and came away with two, then
I was put on an ambulance wagon, and taken to the extreme Base
Hospital. We arrived at this place about 1-30 a.m. after a journey
of six miles, which had taken us between six, and seven hours,
from the gained trenches, to the extreme point of the peninsular.
I felt done to the world, and we layed [sic] there till daybreak,
feeling very hungry, and thirsty, for we had not had any food
for a long time.
Then we were taken down to the
famous Lancashire Landing, and embarked on a barque which towed
us, from two hundred to three hundred yards, to the Hospital ship
“ Rewa “. While on the way to the ship we had the
shells coming at us, splashing the water all over the place, but
eventually we got to the ship in safety.
The previous days work had been
a glorious one for the Nelson Batt, for we had made a good name,
but had suffered terribly. (Approx.
280 casualties in the Nelson Battalion attack on the 13th July
~ by RJH) Our Colonel acted very bravely, cheering, and
rallying his men in the long advance, for it needed tact to keep
us men going under such a heavy rain of lead, but he must have
gone too far, also some of our men, and they were either killed,
or badly wounded. The condition of things was so bad that they
could not be brought in by our men. I was told that the Colonel
had gained the D.S.M. [SIC] (? D.S.O.~
the Distinguished Service Order was awarded to Lt Commanders and
above ~ by RJH ) for his bravery, also that he had been
terribly wounded, and soon died after he was found, so he never
lived to receive the reward, for his noble conduct. (Colonel
Evelegh? ~ by RJH ) One of our Petty Officers was also
seen, to carry in several wounded men from the dangerous parts,
in the front of our new firing line, under heavy shell fire from
the Turks, and he also won the D.S.M., which I had the pleasure
of seeing him receive, some six months later at the Naval Hospital,
Plymouth. (PO J McGrath C1/1616 DSM, see page 80 of Nelson At War by Roy Swales. Distinguished Service
Medal awarded to Non Commissioned Officers & men. ~ by RJH)
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(Names
of wounded for the Nelson Battalion attack on the 13thJuly
1915 ~ by RJH) |
We stayed just off the peninsula
for about two days, and then started with about 1,500 aboard.
It was good to have a decent meal, and was no doubt enjoyed by
all after the living we had been having on land. We were pleased
to be away from the shells and stray bullets, also it was a great
relief to know we were in a safer place. This puts the finishing
touch to my career on the peninsula, where with my other comrades
we had spent such a time of terrible hardships.
Our first stopping place was Lemnos Bay, and then we proceeded
to Alexandria (Egypt). On the way several of the fellows succumbed
to their wounds, and these were buried at sea. After a few days
run we arrived at Alexandria, and at the docks were met by a Red
Cross train, which was waiting to take us to different hospitals.
All the Nelson Battalion that had been wounded, managed to get
together, and so we all proceeded to Cairo by train, a distance
of some seventy to eighty miles inland. After a few hours ride
through very flat country, we arrived at our destination, where
we were sent to different hospitals. I was sent to Kas EL Ainy
Hospital (Kasr-el-Ainy Cairo Hospital List No. 635 ~ by RJH), close to the well known River Nile. Here we had Egyptian
students to attend to us, and they were more bother than they
were really worth, but having nobody else, it was a case of having
to put up with them. From there I was sent to Narith [SIC] (?
~ by RJH) Convalescent Home. My wounds were healing fairly
well, but things were not going so well with me, as I should have
liked them to.
Weaknesses seemed to arise for which I feared, and I could not
rid my mind of the terrible scenes I had witnessed, the last few
days on the peninsula, but all the time I went on trying to pull
myself together, and not give in. I was next sent from this Home
to another, which was called Albassia Rest Camp, (Albassia
Hospital Cairo ~ by RJH) and was advised to have rest,
which I had for the following two months. The Sphinx, Pyramids,
and the Dead City, were all the places that I visited, and even
those did not interest me very much as they would have done under
ordinary circumstances, for nothing appealed to my mind. The last
place I stayed had its drawbacks, but on the whole it was fairly
good, all were allowed to walk when they wanted, so there was
plenty of freedom, for any who wanted it.
Then I was told that I was being invalided home to England, as
they had not got any treatment, I required. After a terrible voyage,
during which, I had a bad time, of sea sickness, that did not
improve my state of condition, we arrived safely at Plymouth.
I with several other Naval Ratings were taken from the hospital
ship, “Andania” (Torpedoed
and sunk by U46 in 1918 ~ by RJH) on to a smaller pinnacle,
which took us up the river. We arrived at the Royal Naval Hospital
in the evening on October 14th 1915, and were then sent to allotted
wards for treatment required. I was a patient there for just on
four months, and derived great benefit from the electrical treatment
that I received. Time seemed to hang very long here, but with
perseverance, I began to slowly make towards recovery.
I was then sent to a private convalescent home in Essex(Park Place, Woodside North Weald Bassett CM16 6LG ~ by RJH), and when
I arrived there I meet one of the old Nelson fellows. The strange
coincidence was that both of us thought each other killed in the
charge, so it cleared our minds on that score, but we had both
had a long time of it in hospital. He had got a bullet through
the muscle of his arm, and had lost the use of it, but for all
that we were glad to meet again. My stay there was a great help
to me, getting fresh air and a change of scene, and then the time
came for me to go back to Plymouth.
The change had done me good, and I had also made more good friends,
whose kindness I shall always remember. On my slow improvement,
I was invalided from the service, as unfit to carry on, that sort
of business again. I left the Naval Hospital, Plymouth, on February
2nd 1916 for home, but not feeling the man I had been, fifteen
months previously, when I joined the Royal Naval Division.
So ends my experience as a fighting man, and one that I never
hope to pass through again. Yet I am contented to know that with
my other comrades, had tried our very hardest to do our very best,
for King and Country, also for the grand cause of Right against
Might.
James
R J Hart. R.N.V.R.
Late of Benbow, and Nelson Batt.
Royal Naval Division |
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