A16 Friday, November 8, 2024
Mission City Record
www.missioncityrecord.com
First World War – Letters from the front Firsthand accounts from soldiers capture moments of calm and terror in trenches Val Billesberger
“I have been awful lucky so far but one can never tell when he is going to get it. I was in two small battles, but it did not amount to much.” Written in 1915 by Private James Wharton of Mission (14th Battalion – Killed in action, 1916), this excerpt is from one of the many letters published in the Fraser Valley Record (Mission City Record today) that were received by the friends or relatives of the boys in the trenches between 1915 and 1919. Housed in the Mission Community Archives, the local newspaper documents the stories and experiences of “the boys from Mission doing their bit for the Empire” during the First World War. Known as the “great war”, it was a war of machine guns, bombs, and never ending mud. A war, where artillery shells fell, at any time of the day or night, and mud so thick that if you fell in it you might never get back out. The significance of these letters resonates down the decades revealing the harsh realities of trench warfare that were mixed with days on end of boredom with periods of terror while living under poor conditions and the threat of death.
Private James Humphries – “D” Coy 29th Battalion After almost ten months of monotonous and sometimes severe training the 29th Battalion eventually found itself in Flanders and incidentally occupying a portion of the British lines. Already we have tasted the hardships and awfulness of war and unfortunately not without casualties, but yet all the boys from Mission continue to be in good health and the best of spirit. During the daytime comparative quiet reigns in the trenches but to show one’s self above the parapet invites trouble, but as dusk comes on the whole line seems to throb and hum like a hive of bees… While lying perfectly quiet one must listen for any movement or noise on the part of the Germans and communicate by pulling a wire to the trench behind. This post fell to me only last night and to be out on “no man’s land” as human feelers to the camp behind is rather a peculiar experience with one’s nerves so silent and strained so even the scuttling of a rat sees a very important event. Such things have several times been the cause of our more timid “listeners” running back to report that “Germans are cutting the entanglements!” or “Snipers laying grass to the right” etc. Trench life has a serious pathetic side also, as behind the trenches are crosses marking the graves of fallen comrades. Sometimes the name and regiment is recorded but more often “In memory of an unknown British soldier” is the only epitaph. The boys of Mission do not forget their homes. They think of them continually and only hope and trust that fortune will be kind and bring them back to B.C. safely once more. (Letter published November 4th, 1915)
dull. We have had two weeks steady rain and there is lots of water around the sandbags. Phil [Catherwood], Charlie Bray and myself were lucky this time, we got a dug out with a fire place in it. It is fine inside. We sure are a hot looking bunch of toughs, mud from head to foot and have sacks wound around our legs to keep the mud off. I love Flanders but the roof of home would look good sometimes. Things, are pretty quiet along here these days, you cannot hear a shot. I suppose the Fritzs [British slang word for Germans] are in and out of rain like ourselves. I am glad to hear that all of the young fellows are joining now. I can sit here and look out of the door and there are two graves of British Soldiers. There are hundreds hereabouts. We are only about 80 yards from the German front line, but they are pretty hard to see. I have seen only two or three of them so far. We saw a British and a German airplane First World War soldiers leavin g from the Mission station in fight the other day and the British brought 1915. (Photo courtesy of the Mission Community Archives) the Hun [slang for Germans used by British and Allied forces] down in our lines. If you send a parcel put in a few pair of socks as they are hard to get over here and the way things look we will need them this winter.” catches his toe on (Letter published December 2nd, 1915) a field telephone line and lands face first in the work was marvelous. mud and ooze. “ (Written November 29, 1915, (Letter about attack on the Hindenburg Line Private Basil Catchpole – published January 20, 1916) on August 9th, published September 27, 1918)
15th Field Artillery
Quite confident we were, on the night of the 28th instant, when the ground was all hard with frost that we should have a nice easy trip down into the trenches by the new overland way, the region of slime and batter-pudding esplanades. The stuff to be carried was all split up into three equal shares (even the Bombardier whose stripe entitled him, in his own imagination, if nobody else’s, to dodge the heavy work, had to knuckle down to it and test his endurance, each of the shares containing respectively (1) two heavy rolls of blankets, a square foot by six inch tin box containing remnants of parcels etc. from home, one Brazier iron, two feet high by one foot across; (2) three sandbags full of coke and one of wood; (3) two sandbags full of grub, which sound light enough when you picture them full of white bread of the kind that mother used to make; Quakers oats and salt and pepper, but is just the reserve when crammed with canned sustenances and good weighty army issue bread, and half a cubic foot of frozen meat –one sandbag of spare kit magazines etc. As soon as it was dark enough so that no German sniper could see us, the procession of three starts out, all serene for the first stage of the journey which is one of the famous Belgian paved roads. The second stage is not so good, but still, not so bad either as the pools of water and mud only comes up to your ankles. The third stage begins by crossing a reserve trench 5 feet wide and 8 feet deep we cross this with the use of a plank. Next we come to a series of communication Private Charles Stokes - trenches each, one worst than the last. Here our “D” Coy 29th Battalion heroic commander leads the way. He steps back This letter leaves me fine and dandy but a little squares his shoulders, takes a running jump and
Private Tom Clegg - 72nd Seaforth Highlanders Battalion Nothing seems to cheer a fellow up like getting a letter from home. We are up in the front line trenches. This place is a mining district, nothing but coal mines all around for miles. We hold some and the Germans got some…I manage to keep warm myself as I always have a fire, and generally manage for a good place to sleep but not always. The boys in the trenches all the time do suffer quite a lot, but they keep smiling and put up with it hoping for the time to come when it will all be finished in a complete victory for our arms after all the suffering and loss they have had since being out here. There is an awful strafe here while I am writing this. Machine guns going like a thousand riveters at work and shells dropping all around outside. (Letter published March 27, 1917)
Private Arthur Gibbard - 72nd Seaforth Highlanders Battalion The guns were on all sides of us and shooting for all they were worth but the guns had been in action only about thirty minutes…It was a great sight to see our cavalry march out to fight. They rode out through a field of wheat and through a small village just as though they were going out for a day’s drill. They made the advance a brilliant success. The tanks did excellent work and the whole thing went off like clockwork; before midnight of the same day our advance horse lines were on what had been the enemy’s front line. I do not know how the infantry stood it. Their
Private Dud Bryant - “D” Coy 29th Battalion On our arrival at the City of La Bouverie everything was decorated with the flags of the Allies and large signs across the street. “Hur, hur, hurrah Canada, unconquerable.” “Honour our Liberatore.” Welcome our Allies.” We were cheered by the people who lined the streets, women running after us with pitchers of beer and glasses, coffee and milk…While we were on the march a sergeant of one of the field batteries came running down the road with a paper which he gave to the C.O. and he read it to us, it read: “Hostilities ceased. No gun to be fired after 11 am.” When the news was read out there was a lot of cheering and rejoicing….The next day I was one of sixty that was picked out of the battalion for the guard of honor for the reception at Mons in honor of the arrival of King Albert of Belgium. (Letter written December 3, 1918, published January 9, 1919) On Armistice night, November 11th 1919, “some 400 people” attended a huge banquet held in the local skating rink to welcome home and pay tribute to Mission’s returned solders along with their wives, mothers and sweethearts. There was a “Silent Toast” to those soldiers who gave their lives. For more information about Mission veterans, contact the Mission Community Archives. Volunteer Jim Hinds maintains a database containing over 4,100 records about members of the community who served in WWI, WWII, Korea, Vietnam and Peacetime. – Val Billesberger is the archivist and records manager at the Mission Community Archives.