Read Ebook: With The Immortal Seventh Division by Kennedy Edmund John

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Ebook has 272 lines and 32232 words, and 6 pages

She spoke of responsibility and duty as though they were measurable quantities, but the gentler parts of such equations, the factors of affection and pity, were never mentioned. I don't want to give the impression that ours was a particularly puritanical family; I know our neighbors had of necessity much the same grim outlook. But I felt guiltily vulnerable, not merely on the score of wanting more schooling, but because of something else which would have shocked my mother beyond forgiveness.

My early tussles with Mary McCutcheon had the natural consequences, but she had found me a too-youthful partner and had taken her interests elsewhere. For my part I now turned to Agnes Jones, a suddenly alluring young woman grown from the skinny kid I'd always brushed away. Agnes sympathized with my aspirations and encouraged me most pleasantly. However her specific plans for my future were limited to marrying her and helping her father on his farm, which seemed no great advance over what I could look forward to at home.

And there I was certainly no asset; I ate three hearty meals a day and occupied a bed. I was conscious of the looks and smiles which followed me. A great lout of seventeen, too lazy to do a stroke of work, always wandering around with his head in the clouds or lying with his nose stuck in a book. Too bad; and the Backmakers such industrious folks too. I could feel what the shock of my behavior with Agnes added to my idleness would be to my mother.

Yet I was neither depraved nor very different from the other youths of Wappinger Falls, who not only took their pleasures where they found them, but often more forcibly than persuasively. I did not analyze it fully or clearly, but I was at least to some extent aware of the essentially loveless atmosphere around me. The rigid convention of late marriages bred an exaggerated respect for chastity which had two sides: sisters' and daughters' honor was sternly avenged with no protest from society, and undiscovered seduction produced that much more gratification. But both retribution and venery were somewhat mechanical; they were the expected rather than the inescapable passions. Revivalists--and we country people had a vast fondness for those itinerants who came periodically to castigate us for our sins--denounced our laxity and pointed to the virtues of our grandparents and greatgrandparents. We accepted their advice with such modifications as suited us, which was not at all what they intended.

And this was how I took my mother's admonition to be my own man. What debts I owed her and my father seemed best discharged by relieving them of the burden of my keep, since I was clearly not fitting myself to reverse the balance. The notion that there was an emotional obligation on either side hardly occurred to me; I doubt if it did to them. Toward Agnes Jones I felt no debt at all.

A few months after my seventeenth birthday I packed my three most cherished books in my good white cotton shirt, and having bade a most romantic goodbye to Agnes, one which would certainly have consummated her hopes had her father come upon us, I left Wappinger Falls and set out for New York.

I thought I could do the walk of some eighty miles in four days, allowing time to swap work for food, supposing I found farmers or housewives agreeable to the exchange. June made it no hardship to sleep outdoors, and the old post road ran close enough to the Hudson for any bathing I might want to do.

The dangers of the trip were part erf the pattern of life in the United States in 1938. I didnt particularly fear being robbed by a roving gang for I was sure organized predators would disdain so obviously unprofitable a prey, and individual thieves I felt I could take care of, but I was not anxious to be picked up as a vagrant by any of the three police forces, national, state, or local. As a freeman I was more exposed to this chance than an indent would be, with a work-card on his person and a company behind him. A freeman was fair game for the constables, state troopers, or revenuers to recruit, after a perfunctory trial, into one of the chain gangs upon whom the roads, canals and other public works were dependent.

Some wondered why the roads were so bad in spite of all this apparent surplus of labor and were dubious of the explanation that surfacing was expensive and it was impossible to maintain unsurfaced highways in good condition. Only the hint that prisoners had been seen working around the estates of the great Whig families or had been lent to some enterprise operated by foreign capital brought knowing nods.

At seventeen possible disasters are not brooded over. I resolved to be wary, and then dismissed thoughts of police, gangs and all unpleasantness. The future was mine to make as my mother had insisted, and I was taking the first steps in shaping it.

I started off briskly, passing at first through villages long familiar; then, getting beyond the territory I had known all my life, I slowed down often enough to gaze at something new and strange, or to wander into wood or pasture for wild strawberries or early blueberries. I covered less ground than I had intended by the time I found a farmhouse, after inquiring at several others, where the woman was willing to give me supper and even let me sleep in the barn in return for splitting a sizable stack of logs into kindling and milking two cows.

Exercise and hot food must have counteracted the excitement of the day, for I fell asleep immediately and didnt waken till quite a while after sunup. It was another warm, fine morning; soon the post road led, not between shabby villages and towns or struggling farms, but past the stone or brick walls of opulent estates. Now and then I caught a glimpse between old, well-tended trees of magnificent houses either a century old or built to resemble those dating from that prosperous time. I could not but share the general dislike for the wealthy Whigs who owned these places, their riches contrasting with the common poverty and deriving from exploitation of the United States as a colony, but I could not help enjoying the beauty of their surroundings.

The highway was better traveled here also; I passed other walkers, quite a few wagons, a carriage or two, several peddlers and a number of ladies and gentlemen on horseback. This was the first time I'd seen women riding astride, a practice shocking to the sensitivities of Wappinger Falls which also condemned the fashion, imported from the Chinese Empire by way of England, of feminine trousers. Having learned that women were bipedal, both customs seemed sensible to me.

I had the post road to myself for some miles between turns when I heard a commotion beyond the stone wall to my left. This was followed by an angry shout and shrill words impossible to distinguish. My progress halted, I instinctively shifted my bundle to my left hand as though to leave my right free for defence, but against what I had no idea.

The shouts came closer; a boy of about my own age scrambled frantically over the wall, dislodging some of the smaller lichen-covered rocks on top and sending them rolling into the ditch. He looked at me, startled, then paful to sleep on any floor where there was a chance of putting down a valise. I particularly remember this billet, for I thought that I had a chance of distinguishing myself by capturing a spy. Orders had been issued, stating that a certain 'Captain Walker,' posing as a R.A.M.C. officer, was visiting our troops, and picking up stray crumbs of information; should such a person be encountered he was to be immediately arrested. I had just turned in, when amid the babel of conversation which came from downstairs, I caught the name 'Walker.' Slipping quietly down the ladder which served as a staircase, I listened for a moment or two at the door, and from what I heard, gathered that I had spotted my man; and suddenly appearing as an apparition in pyjamas, I inquired in somewhat stentorian tones which was Captain Walker? A rosy-cheeked subaltern somewhat sheepishly admitted that he was Lieut. Walker, and I found my hopes dashed to the ground. This was not my only encounter with spies, supposed or real, of which more anon.

A morning stay at Beernem enabled me to improvise a Parade Service, it being Sunday; which was apparently heartily joined in by those attending. The opportunities for such work by chaplains on the trek are few and far between, and it is a question of

Seizing the current when it serves, Or losing our ventures.

Leaving Beernem, our route led us through Wynghene. It was here I seized the opportunity of displaying my undoubted ability as mess president, to which post I had been appointed. At the midday halt in this village, I was anxiously looking about for bread, eggs, vegetables or any other commodity which would embellish the festal board of the mess, and thus win the gratitude of my always hungry brother officers, when, through an open door, I caught sight of fowls in a backyard. I promptly jumped off my horse, and entered into negotiations with the owners of the chicken run, which speedily resulted in the decapitated corpses of three plump fowls being slung from my saddle. Amid the envy of the column, I proudly rode down to the transport of my unit with my spoil, the result being that in a short time not a fowl remained alive in the village; and that night every mess was redolent with the delicious scent of roast fowl.

Our next billet was at Eeghem, where a stone kitchen floor was the utmost we could secure for the officers, after having bedded the men in barns on luxurious beds of sweet straw. In the early morning, in company with Mr. Peel, I enjoyed a brief stroll in the neighbourhood. In the course of our walk we passed one of those small wayside chapels, which are dotted here and there all over Belgium; not larger than some eight feet square, it offered all the facilities that we needed for prayer and quiet thought.

As we approached Roulers, we found the town alive with people who had assembled to welcome that which they regarded as an army of deliverance from the dreaded Germans.

After billeting the officers with considerable difficulty--for naturally people at times resented the intrusion of hungry and travel-stained men into their spic and span houses--I secured a most comfortable room for myself in the house of an old widow lady; one of those charming old world persons who are occasionally met with on life's journey, and who, by their innate courtesy and sympathy, accentuate the oneness of the human family. When a country is under martial law one cannot, of course, take 'no' for an answer in applying for a billet, and therefore, in the case of Belgium, one made the demand with the authority of 'in the king's name,' which invariably brought about the desired result. My dear old hostess could not do enough for me; with quavering accents she remarked, 'Thank God you English have come, for now we feel safe.' I must confess I felt very much of a hypocrite, for I knew that the enemy was pursuing us in hot haste. Indeed, a few hours afterwards they marched into the city, which they have held ever since.

As we pressed on to Ypres, via Zonnebec, our route ran alongside of the railway, and it was a stirring sight to see the naval armoured train dash along, seeking for a pot shot at the enemy who was not far distant, the sailors forming the crew regarding the work as a sporting venture.

The first view of Ypres was glorious. As we marched through the great square in front of the Cloth Hall, I was struck with the mediaeval aspect of the place. The gabled houses carried one's imagination into the long ago; whilst the glorious Cloth Hall of the eleventh century, backed up by the equally fine cathedral of similar age, presented a picture not easily to be forgotten. Alas! when I next saw it, the place was a heap of crumbling ruins.

The Germans had passed through the city four days before we arrived; and according to their wont, had helped themselves very liberally to what they fancied. Many of the shopkeepers were loud in their complaints of the shameful manner in which they had been robbed.

I was able to secure most excellent billets for the mess in the house of Monsieur and Madame Angillis. These good people were in a state of considerable fear, for, not only had they two sons fighting in the Belgian army, one of whom had been wounded, but as the owners of considerable property in the city and the neighbourhood, they were anxious as to what the future would bring. Their worst fears have been realized, and I am afraid they are among the great mass of sufferers in unhappy Belgium. Their daughter was rendering splendid service in the Belgian Red Cross, and proved a great help in directing me to wounded British soldiers, who might otherwise have been lost sight of.

Very soon the wounded and German prisoners made their appearance, and doctors and chaplains were busily engaged. Most of the prisoners had a very scared look, for we learned afterwards that they had been told that we cut our prisoners' throats, or shot them out of hand, and their joy was great at finding even their personal belongings restored to them.

I was much struck with the characteristic behaviour of 'Tommy Atkins' to these men; even to the extent of sharing his rations with them, and handing out his 'fags,' which was an act of real self-denial.

I owe my grateful thanks to one Uhlan, whose saddle fell to my lot, and which I henceforth used, and regarded as one of the most comfortable I have ever ridden on.

A singularly unfortunate case came under my notice among the first batch of wounded brought in. An officer of the 'Borders' in the dead of night, hearing as he thought a German advance, left his trench to reconnoitre, and after a fruitless search was returning to his men in the thick early morning mist, when a sentinel, ignorant of his having gone out, shot him as he approached the trenches. The poor chap was badly hit in the lungs, and made a brave struggle for life, but alas! died a few hours afterwards.

The Divisional Head-quarters being established at Ypres, my unit moved out to its Brigade, which occupied the line of trenches in the neighbourhood of Zandvoorde.

Arriving at our position in the dusk of a quickly parting day, we found ourselves actually posted in front of the firing line. Disagreeable as the experience was, there was nothing for it but to stick it. In a wood close by, the enemy had machine guns, supported by a body of Uhlans. Disturbing sniping took place at intervals through the night, which rendered the bivouac unpleasant in the extreme. We slept on the ground between the wagons; and under the circumstances I felt it wise to keep as low down as possible, as 'fire' is in no sense discriminating.

Our Brigade Head-quarters were at Kruiseck, to which place I rode early one morning with our Major, to inspect farmhouses, with a view to arranging Field Dressing Stations. Later in the day calling at Head-quarters to inquire if there were any funerals requiring my attention, I found the whole place in extreme excitement; Uhlans were advancing in force. Every hedgerow and wall was lined with our men; the scared inhabitants, utterly unnerved by shell fire, were fleeing from the place. Their appearance was heartrending, and revealed the unutterable horror of war as carried into the midst of a peaceful population.

My ride back to my unit in the gloaming was sufficiently adventurous to please the most reckless man, owing to the proximity of the Uhlans, and gave a zest not often met with to the three or four miles which had to be traversed. Never did I strain my eyes more eagerly, and somewhat after the fashion of Jehu of yore I made my way along the deserted track into a place of comparative safety.

From the neighbourhood of Zandvoorde my unit was hurriedly moved to Gheluvelt, which was then threatened by a German force approaching from the direction of Bercelaire.

Here the whole population was in a state of indescribable anxiety and fear, which it was impossible to remove, for the shells were more convincing than any arguments we could bring to bear.

Our Head-quarters were established at a Xaverian Brotherhood; the superior of which--a dear old gentleman--did his utmost to ensure our comfort. It was weary work hanging about all day awaiting results. Towards evening I thought it wise to get a sleep, and so turned in about five o'clock. During these days of constant anxiety, owing to the proximity of the enemy, we seldom or never removed our clothes,--I had not had mine off for over a week at that time--thus we were ready for any emergency, at any time.

From the village of Gheluvelt we moved on a mile nearer to Ypres, where we billeted in the Chateau de Gheluvelt, from which the owner and his family had evidently departed in great haste. Finely situated in a well wooded park, the house was most splendidly equipped in every respect. The pictures, statuary and furniture were in keeping with the outward appearance of the place. It was interesting to notice the different manner of dealing with other people's property in vogue with the British, in contrast with the German method; so rigid was our O.C. that not even a vegetable was allowed to be taken from the well-stocked walled garden, close by the mansion; a sentry being placed to prevent any hungry 'Tommy' gratifying his desire in that quarter.

Towards evening a general engagement took place, and there was very heavy shelling. Several shells struck the house, but none of us were injured. On the following morning I was called to an advanced outpost of the Scots Guards, to bury Sergeant Wilson, of Lord Esm? Gordon's Company. On reaching the line I found the Battalion about to advance into action in extended order, and the man had been hurriedly buried. On my way back I joined Captain Hamilton Wedderburn, Adjutant, who had been ordered to the rear suffering from appendicitis. I had met this officer's father, Colonel Hamilton, who resided in my neighbourhood at home.

During the night several wounded men came in, and the large salon presented a weird appearance as the doctors attended the suffering men. No cooking was allowed, and all windows were carefully curtained, in order not to draw the fire of the enemy, who were in very unpleasant proximity to the house. I well remember next morning, because the Germans had got the range to a nicety, and the otherwise enjoyable place was rendered unbearable by the crash of shells. So unhealthy grew the position, that the transport was moved a mile away; but we who composed the tent section remained to deal with any men who were brought in. It is astonishing how quickly one grows accustomed to 'fire,' and a very short experience enabled us to go about our work, under risky circumstances, in the most ordinary manner.

The nights at this time were very dark, and at several points we could see burning farm homesteads and villages, which to the thoughtful mind denoted the awful destruction and suffering envolved by the ghastly outrage upon humanity, being perpetrated by the enemy.

We left the ch?teau very suddenly, owing to heavy shelling. Some of our men were hit, and two of our 'mess' had horses killed under them, but otherwise we managed to get clear from a decidedly dangerous position. That night it was pitch dark, and we halted on the roadside, some two or three miles west of Gheluvelt. It was pouring with rain as we ate our meal of cold rations; we could not even enjoy a comforting smoke, as the lighting of a match would have been certain to draw the fire of our vigilant foe. Mr. Jaffray and I both agreed that a night's lodging in a damp ditch was hardly consonant with our wishes, and therefore we set out for the hamlet of Halte, where the railway crosses the road, in hopes that we might find cover of some sort.

Leading our horses very cautiously along the road, for sentinels were posted in every direction, and at such 'nervy' times men frequently fire before they challenge, we made our way to a small estaminet which we found crammed with French soldiers. I pleaded hard for even a chair, but the proprietor assured me of the impossibility of offering even this very slender hospitality. I was fortunate to meet MacKenzie, the Transport officer of the Scots Guards, who introduced me to a French officer, who in turn interested the landlady's daughter in our forlorn condition. This kind angel of mercy informed me that her married sister lived at a farm near by, and she thought that there was a bedroom that Mr. Jaffray and I might make use of. Accordingly, holding my reins in one hand and my fair guide's hand in the other, I was led through pitch darkness for some distance, and presently found myself in a huge Belgian farm kitchen, crammed with French soldiers and smelling horribly of garlic. Yes! the farmer could let us have his bedroom for the night, at a small remuneration, as he and his wife had decided to stay up; accordingly, we were shown into an exceedingly small room, some eight feet square, in which was a bed the covering of which made one shudder to look at; but any port in a storm; and we accordingly doubled up the best way we could on a bed some two feet too short for us. As we vainly tried to fall asleep, my batman suddenly turned up,--how he found our quarters will always be a mystery to me--with the news that the column had moved off to some place which he could not pronounce. I showed him my map and asked him if he recognized any name in the locality, but finding that he was as much at sea as to the destination of the unit as I was, I determined that it was useless to attempt to explore that part of Belgium in the darkness of a soaking night; so stowing my servant away in the corner of the kitchen, we did our best to get a few hours' sleep. In the first grey of the dawn we arose and ate a little black bread and very salt bacon, washed down with some execrable coffee, then leading our horses out of the cowhouse in which we had installed them the night before, and from which we had had to turn out a couple of very evil-smelling beasts, we sallied forth to the apparently hopeless task of discovering the direction in which the column had moved. One's deductive faculty had to be drawn upon largely. Presently we found ourselves at Zillebeke, where we were held up by the Northumberland Hussars, who came by in splendid order on their way to entering action. Standing by my side was a Staff officer who had dismounted from his car, awaiting the passage of the cavalry. I explained to him our difficulty, and he said that he rather thought our unit was with the 10th Hussars at Zandvoorde, some four miles away, and very kindly offered me a lift. My horse had contracted a terrible cold and was hardly fit to ride, so placing him in charge of my batman, I arranged to drive on in the car, leaving Mr. Jaffray and my servant to follow. The friendly officer turned out to be Lord Nairne, who was, unfortunately, killed a few days afterwards.

On reaching the village of Zandvoorde, I encountered a terrible sight. The enemy was approaching from two sides, and shelling hard. The place was a slaughter-house; never have I seen so ghastly a sight. The doctors, with their coats off and shirt sleeves rolled up, looked more like butchers than medical men, and for an hour or two I found my hands full in the saddest of all work, dealing with dying men.

As I was eating a hasty breakfast--for in campaigning one learns the value of sleeping and eating whenever a chance presents itself--the O.C. came to me saying that some one must get through to Ypres, to stop the transport that was about to come out, and also to warn the major of the serious condition of affairs at Zandvoorde. Would I go? Such an opportunity of doing 'a real bit' only comes now and again, therefore it was not difficult to decide.

I had a foretaste of what I was presently to pass through, as, sitting on the doorstep of a cottage, I was changing into riding boots, out of the heavy Swiss climbing boots that I had been wearing, and which threatened to be awkward in the stirrups, if by any chance I was thrown, a not unlikely event under fire, when a shrapnel burst some twenty feet from me, with an explosion which almost lifted me from the ground. The door before which I sat, and the front of the cottage, were liberally studded with bullets and pieces of the casing, but in a most providential manner I was untouched. Very quickly I completed my change of boots, and got my kit-bag once more stowed away in a transport wagon. Strictest orders had been given that no kits were to be removed from the wagon, and I hope that the O.C., if ever he discovers my delinquency, will take into consideration the urgency of my desire to fulfil instructions in the carrying of his orders into Ypres.

The road was crowded with terrified people, literally fleeing for their lives, and as I got out of the range of fire, I tried to comfort them in the best way I could.

Reaching Ypres I delivered my message, and then sank down and fell into a deep sleep for four hours. I suppose it was a kind of reaction from the nervous strain.

I found Ypres crammed with wounded men, and worked hard there for the next day or two. Many were the distressing cases that came under my attention.

It was on October 23 that I received my first batch of letters from home, and the first opportunity I stole away into a quiet corner and enjoyed myself to my heart's content.

On October 31--that fateful day, when it seemed impossible for the thin line of khaki to further withstand the tremendous onslaught of the enemy which had placed the Prussian Guard in its front line--the sad duty of burying young Prince Maurice of Battenburg fell to my lot. It was a strange coincidence, for I had met him in bygone years when he was a bright, attractive boy. Such a task awakened the greatest interest in my heart, for sad as the ceremony was, I keenly felt the privilege of rendering this last act of tender duty to a young prince so universally beloved. One of his men, in relating the manner of his heroic death, afterwards said to me, 'I loved him, sir, as a brother.' The funeral, which was attended by Prince Arthur of Connaught and several Generals, took place under heavy fire. So continuous indeed was the roar of the shells, that an officer, writing to the papers some time after, related that it was impossible to distinguish the chaplain's voice. The service was therefore necessarily brief, and at its conclusion the crowd of officers quickly dispersed.

An order had been issued for a withdrawal from the Front, and the Menin road into Ypres was blocked with troops and transport.

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