Last Man Standing

by Richard van Emden

I now write to thank you for your kind letter of sympathy you so kindly sent to me on my sore Bereavement. It is too cruel to think my darling boy is gone for ever, I do miss his letters so much for he wrote to me regular and never grumbled. But it was a great comfort to me to hear from you and to speak so highly of him and I know very well that it is for a good cause we are fighting. But only if his sweet young life had only been spared I cannot realise he is gone and that I will never see him again.

  Well dear Sir I hope and pray that you may get through all right and that your nearest and dearest may be spared the terrible blow that the sad news brings for it just breaks a mothers heart it’s the worst I ever got whatever I hope you will over look the liberty I have taken in writing to you but I felt I must thank you.

  With all good wishes for your safety I remain

  Yours truly

  M Phin

  Easterton

  By Fochabers

  1916 Dec 5

  Dear Sir

  With deep regret I have received your note informing me of the death of my son William witch you say fell on the 13th of Nov under the circumstance it is a great blow to me you have recovered his body which I am glad to hear and buried in a cemerity behind the lines. I have no word yet up till now from the War Office but I suppose it will come through time.

  Sir I would ask you if there is any little thing belonging to my son you can find I would be very pleased to get I thank you very much for sending me notice of my sons Death it was very kind of you.

  George Mckenzie Yours truly

  671 Hawthorn St

  Springburn, Glasgow

  4th Dec 1916

  Dear Sir

  On behalf of myself and family I have to thank you for your letter of condolence to us in our sad Bereavement. Arthur was the youngest member of our family, and we feel his loss the more on that account. He was intensely proud of being a Scot, and proud of his Mackenzie tartan kilt. He spent the major part of his life here with us at Home, but you, his officer would see him passing from boyhood into manhood in those 4 months he was under your care in France.

  We would be ever grateful to you if you could give us a little more information about the lad regarding how he died. Also if it is at all possible that we may have some little remembrance of him such as his Pocket Book or anything of a like nature we would cherish and prize it above all things.

  If it is not in your power to do such, perhaps some of the lads who were his companions in France would oblige us.

  Again thanking you for your kindness to us in our Hour of Sorrow

  I remain

  Yours sincerely

  Geo Henry

  Editor: Arthur was just eighteen when he was killed. In all certainty he enlisted aged seventeen and should not have been sent to France, nineteen being the age for service overseas in the British Army. From the letter above it is clear that he was there with the tacit approval of his parents.

  29/11

  Dear Bolton

  Your letter of the 18th inst. just arrived tonight (11 days). Did I tell you I had received the shirt? Thanks muchly.

  It’s very cold here today, but we are having a decent time. Fritz put over a few ‘coalboxes’ [5.9” shells] as I was having breakfast this morning. We will probably have an easy time for a few days after our Beaumont Hamel touch [attack].

  Today we had saluting drill. Isn’t that the British army all over?

  The winter pie has also arrived. Thank you very much. A Bystander or Tatler would be welcome in fact anything readable.

  Do you know what we found in Boche Dug-outs? Wills Gold Flake cigs and Scotch Whisky! Also South American tinned meats. Where on earth do they get it? There were some cat-o-nine tails, piano etc. [Ed. see page 103]

  I haven’t seen Henderson since my last spell in the trenches. Kind regards to the picnic crowd.

  Well, I’ll ring off now. Good night. Schlafen Sie Wohl.

  Yours to a cinder,

  Norman

  Two officers rest in a shell hole in somewhat dryer conditions.

  A 6th Seaforth looks towards the German lines. The fact that he is so exposed underlines the fact that he must be some distance from the enemy.

  30/11

  Dear all

  No luck today for me, as there was no letter (our chief joy in life out here). Only 25 days to Christmas and then my leave won’t be far away. I will spend 2 days in Sheffield and about 6 at home. We get 10 days from leaving France. It was just 6 weeks yesterday since I landed in France and it is like 6 months. Some people are lucky enough to get that long at the Base. That other parcel of eatables that you sent off on the 18th is about due now. They usually take about 10 days although the one with the shirt in beat your letter of the same date.

  Have you had any more word about you being called up, Bolton? Well, take my advice and don’t worry about getting out here. You know how keen I was about the army and wanting to get out here, so I know what I’m talking about.

  It is the nearest approach to Hell on earth that there is.

  I was speaking to a regular who was through Mons, Marne, Aisne, Beaumont Hamel (July 1st) and he said the fighting then was a picnic compared to what it is now.

  All the same I prefer to be doing my bit out here than slacking at Ripon. Someone has to do it. The Army Service Corps and Royal Garrison Artillery etc have a decent time. The former are hard worked but they don’t see the horrors of war.

  Best love Norman

  1/12/16 4.0pm

  Dear Mother and Father

  Weather still cold. Had a quiet time today. Was testing gas helmets this morning. The ‘tear’ gas is funny stuff. The least whiff in the air makes one’s eyes water so that one cannot see. It smells exactly like pear drops and has the same effect as a spoonful of mustard taken internally.

  Had no letters today.

  Your affectionate son, Norman

  1/12/16 7pm

  Dear Bolton

  Two parcels just arrived, one 18/11/16 and the other 24/11/16. Thanks very much they were very welcome. The cakes are a bit hard but the other things A1. Please do not send any tinned stuff (fruit etc) as we can get those here also those bread cakes soon get hard. The sweet cakes are all right, chocolate, cigs etc. If you could pack them in wooden chocolate boxes they would be fresher I think. I like the dates very much. They were a pleasant surprise. Aunty Louisa sent a fine fleece lined waistcoat. I needed it! She also sent socks, butterscotch and cigarettes.

  I could do with a thick pair of khaki hose-tops. I have a fine pair of boots that I bought from the Ordnance. They are Field Boots and come to the top of my hose-tops. It is so wet however in the trenches that the water soaks through after a few hours and also gets in over the top when it is knee deep.

  I expect to be into the trenches any time now. They will be the old Boche ‘trenches’ or rather the remains of them after our artillery practised on them. I expect we will be engaged all night repairing them. There is one comfort however. We will have decent dugouts although of course the entrance will be facing the wrong way. This means a shell from the Boche guns can go right down into the dugout. We are as safe as houses in them as nothing less than an 8inch can do them much damage.

  Last time I was in the trenches my dugout got about a dozen direct hits by 6inch shells and didn’t hurt anyone. The Boche had spotted it, and so about 50 yards of trench between Headquarters and my dug-out was absolutely unpassable so whenever anyone walked to get there they had to go overland (we were in support). The second night Fritz began putting ‘crumps’ over and every night after that for a week. We got about 12 a day on to it or near it.

  Best love Norman

  Dec 2 1916

  Dear Mother and Dad

  Your letter was very welcome. I am keeping quite well and rather busy.

  I think I have got all your parcels. They are always very welcome. You should have received my letter written on the 25th Nov. by now and several later ones. We moved about a fortnight ago. In January we exp
ect to get a rest for a month or two, as the Division has been at the Front since March 1916, without a rest, and some Divisions get a rest every few months. That will be fine as you will have no cause to worry when I am out of the danger-zone.

  I will let you know how I spend Xmas and New Year and also as soon as we get our rest. I will write again this week.

  Your loving son

  Norman.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Hell! Here Comes a Whizz-Bang

  Editor: Norman’s anticipation of an easier time after the exertions of November, belied the fact that the 4th Seaforth Highlanders were still expected to occupy the front line trenches as part of the normal trench routine. On 8th December a draft of 112 other ranks joined the battalion, while church services were held for all denominations prior to their being ordered back up the line the following day. In the meantime the majority of the men waited and rested as far as possible.

  Norman

  We had been withdrawn to Auchonvilliers for a rest where we soon got back into our officers’ togs. However, whilst we were out of the line, I was detailed, probably because I was the youngest officer, to go back up the line with a working party. I thought this most unfair because we had just come out of action. This working party had to march to a dump and pick up barbed wire and posts and take them up a communication trench. We were to do some re-vetting in a trench and then we were to get out, after dark, in front of the line and mend the wire.

  A working party on the Somme heading for the frontline.

  We were on a metalled road just before we entered the communication trench. We had just passed a first aid station on the left, tiny little thing, and as we were going forward I heard a shriek, and I knew a lot about the shriek of shells by this time and I thought ‘My God this one’s got my name on it’. I recognised it as a coalbox, a 5.9 inch shell. The screech got louder and louder, it was going to drop very near me. My body tensed up as the shell burst on the metalled road just behind me. I pitched forward. The shell must have passed over my shoulder almost. As the smoke cleared I saw that most of my men had been either killed or wounded. I felt all right at first but I put my hand down to my leg and found it covered in blood. Splinters of shell had been driven into my thigh at the back. I looked around, then with the help of one or two men who were sheltering nearby I began to get the wounded into this little first aid post.

  There was a young doctor in there and, poor chap, he was shaking like a leaf. He looked at the men and said one by one, ‘Dead, dead, put them to one side’. When a man is killed he turns a sort of clay colour, straight away, with the shock, the doctor knew straight away that they were dead. I was a bit numb but, anyway, after a while, an ambulance came up the road and the doctor said ‘Now get the wounded all in the ambulance,’ and then said, ‘You had better get in too.’ These chaps of mine, they were badly wounded and they were crying and screaming because of the bumping of the ambulance. I remember the light guns, and then further back the heavy artillery firing on each side of the road. I lay on my side all the way as we drove until we got to a large marquee, a proper first aid post. There I sat for a little while until the more seriously wounded were attended to, then I was seen and the task began to probe for pieces of shell embedded in my leg. Well, they had rather a difficult time because they were putting a kind of lancet with a hook on the end and were hooking small pieces of shell out. I remember the doctor putting each bit in an ashtray and saying, jokingly, ‘There we are, now you can have those set in a ring for your girlfriend’.

  An ambulance makes its way back gingerly over a rickety bridge.

  Editor: ‘An incident on the Albert-Bapaume Road’, as Norman came to call the shell explosion that so nearly wiped out his working party, was turned into verse, many years later.

  Norman

  ‘Twas on the road to Pozières

  One grey December day

  A road that’s shelled to blazes

  On which machine guns play.

  A score of stalwart Kilties

  With an officer at their head,

  Marched up that road to Pozieres

  With slow and steady tread.

  It may have been an atom,

  In Fate’s gigantic hand,

  But it was the last march of many

  In that gallant little band.

  Their fate is drawing nearer

  Their last journey nearly o’er,

  For a ‘Coalbox’ comes with a hellish shriek,

  And bursts with a thundering roar.

  Half of that gallant twenty

  Escaped the steely rain;

  The rest have answered the Roll Call,

  And will never march again.

  Editor: In all the confusion it seems likely that Norman may have overestimated the number of casualties to his ‘little band’. Nevertheless the Battalion diary makes no mention of the incident on 8th December other than to remark ‘Casualties 3 OR wounded’. One of these men, Private Samuel Cull, was in fact killed, while another, Private George Douglas, died the next day of his injuries. It is a little curious that no reference is made to the wounding of an officer, who is normally named in person. Official notification of Norman’s wound came by way of two telegrams dated 14 and 19 December. The later is reproduced above, the former set out below.

  The official telegram to his parents that Norman had been wounded.

  Post Office Telegram

  ‘To: Collins, 7 Rowell St, Hartlepool. Regret to inform you 2/Lieut W N Collins fourth Seaforths wounded December 8th. No particulars given, further information will be wired immediately received.’

  Editor: After being picked up by an ambulance Norman was sent on a gruelling seventeen mile journey to the 29th Casualty Clearing Station, which was based at Gézaincourt, near Doullens, a major BEF Base. He arrived on 9th December, one of 55 men admitted that day.

  Dec 10th 1916

  29th CCS, France

  Dear All

  I’m getting on A1 and enjoying the rest. It is a great change to being up the line, and what a relief to be clear of shell fire for a few days!

  I am a ‘walking case’ as the wound is just a flesh one. This is better than having to lie in bed.

  The nurses are jolly decent. There is no news at all so I will close. My letters from England will go to the battalion and then I don’t know where. The 6th is in the trenches at present. They will know that I am wounded but won’t know where I am, as I was brought here by ambulance motor from the place I was wounded. Well ta ta

  Best love, Norman xx

  11th Dec 1916

  Dear all

  Last night another chap came in to Hospital from the 6th Seaforths. I think his nerves have given way. He always was windy if there were a few shells near.

  The weather seems to be improving although at present I don’t mind what it is like. Don’t send any parcels here as I will probably be moving soon. It will soon be Christmas now. Hope you will enjoy yourselves.

  I’ll probably be back in the trenches by then, altho’ I hope not.

  There is no more news.

  Henderson of the Argylls was all right when I saw him last week. I will write to him and let him know I’m wounded.

  Ta! ta! With best love, Norman.

  12th December

  Dear all

  It is snowing heavily today and I am a lot better off here than in the trenches with the Battalion.

  At present they are occupying shell-holes joined together and can only get to them at night as the ground is too sticky to dig communication trenches. The Division is just ready to collapse, having been in the line since February without a rest. We were promised a rest after the show on the 13th November but it is still only a promise.

  The nurses are very kind. I hear that leave is stopped for some time. It is a shame that there are people out here who haven’t been to Blighty for 18 months and never missed a turn in the trenches. It’s wonderful how they stick it.

  No more news

  With
best love, Norman.

  13th Dec

  Dear Bolton

  I’ve just heard that one of our Lieutenants [JW Blair] has been taken prisoner. You see, as we are just holding shell holes, it is hard to distinguish ours from the Bosches’, in the dark.

  I am getting along splendidly, though I think I will always carry a piece of shell about with me as a ‘souvenir’ as it has gone in fairly deeply and the Doc doesn’t want to rake about for it.

  I slipped out for a walk today, against orders of course, but I wasn’t missed. Soon be Christmas now eh! Have a good time. Love to the mater and pater.

  Your loving brother Norman

  P.S Will be able to swank with a gold braid when I’m at home! The chaps wear them out here but I think it’s silly. [Ed. Norman is referring to a Wound Stripe introduced in July 1916, a two inch long strip of brass worn on the left sleeve of the tunic to denote a wound suffered in action. ]

  Editor: Second Lieutenant JW Blair and a sergeant had in fact been captured while passing from one post to another in No Man’s Land, where they were surprised to bump into a German patrol. A single shot was heard, and a number of raised voices; then silence. Both men returned from Germany at the end of the war.

  Owing to the fact that the Somme Battle was over, the number of casualties that arrived at the CCS had lessened considerably and Norman, instead of being moved on down the line quickly, stayed for several days until transferred by Ambulance Train to the 20th General Hospital at Camiers, close to the coast and just to the north of Etaples. Norman was to stay in hospital for just under two weeks before being sent to England. His injury was noted at the time as ‘Gun shot wound thigh slight’.

  20th General Hospital

  (Camiers) France

  Dear all

  I am now in a Base hospital and getting on A1. I have been here four days. On Wednesday or Thursday, I was operated on and had some shell removed and have been a bit seedy until today.

  I haven’t been allowed to get up yet and haven’t had anything to eat for a week. I will make up for this at Christmas or new year!.