With thanks to Chris Dubbs for finding the “Puck” magazine of August 1917 cover with artwork by American artist and sculptor Louis Meyer (1869 – 1969) and poem “Patria’s Progress No. 3” by American poet Berton Braley (1882 – 1966)
Saturday, 30 April 2022
Friday, 15 April 2022
With thanks to AC Benus* for finding this poet and his poems for us. Although it has not been possible so far to find any war-related poems by Robert Jentsch it is entirely possible that he wrote some and that they were either not published or lost.
|Robert c. 1910|
Educated at the Prinz-Heinrich-Gymnasium in Berlin, Robert went on to study mathematics in Jena. He only stayed one semester in Jena before moving back to Berlin. In 1908 he enrolled at the then Friedrich Wilhelm University in Berlin as a mathematics student. Between 1911 and 1912 he studied in Munich before returning to Berlin. He received his doctorate in 1914 from Ferdinand Georg Frobenius on the subject of investigations into the theory of the consequences of analytical functions and received the award "summa cum laude".
Robert joined the expressionist Berlin poets' association Der Neue Club, of which the well-known poet and friend of Robert’s - Georg Heym – was also a member. The tragic accidental death of his friend Georg Heym while ice skating in January 1912 upset Robert deeply.
Robert joined the Germany Army early in the First World War. He served at the front and was discharged. He then signed up again and was in Command of a Battalion of a Communications Company when he was killed on 21st March 1918 during the Battle of Cambrai on the St. Quentin Canal as part of the German spring offensive that was just beginning. He was awarded the Iron Cross 2nd and 1st class.
|Robert during WW1|
From AC Benus:
I had hoped to find war poems from him, but this morning I'm convinced he wrote none, or that none survive.
Here's a sample of his work from 1911, together with my translation of the poem:
Uns blieb das enge Zimmer nicht erspart;
Drin wir wie Tiere trotten auf und ab.
– Die Zeit fällt langsam in ihr Abgrund-Grab . . .
Der Teppich schweigt und jene Diele knarrt.
Weh! Schon fließt über schrill im Abendrot
Der Horizont! – fern hinterm Fensterglas . . .
Da schäumt noch einmal wütend unser Haß.
Dann wirft er uns zu Schatten, toll und tot.
We weren't deprived of a single small cell;
Pent in there, we paced like beasts all around.
– Time into its hell-grave gets slowly ground . . .
The rug's silent, and that floorboard creaks well.
Oh! The sunset flows so soon harshly red
On the horizon! – the window's glass plate . . .
Where once more furiously foams our hate.
Then it casts us to shadows, raged and dead.
p. 626 ( Die Aktion)
Here is the German wiki entry on the man:
And in google translation:
|Cover of Robert's poetry|
* AC Benus is the author of a book about German WW1 poet Hans Ehrenbaum-Degele : “The Thousandth Regiment: A Translation of and Commentary on Hans Ehrenbaum-Degele’s War Poems” by AC Benus (AC Benus, San Francisco, 2020). Along with Hans's story, the book includes original poems as well as translations. ISBN: 978-1657220584
Wednesday, 13 April 2022
Fabian Strachan Woodley, MC (1888 – 1957) - British journalist, WW1 soldier, school teacher and poet
With thanks to AC Benus for finding the poems of Fabian Strachan Woodley for us
|Fabian at school|
Fabian's paternal grandfather was William Augustus Woodley (1817-1891), owner of the Somerset County Gazette from 1843 and his great-grandfather, the Rev. George Woodley (bap. 1786, d. 1846), was also a poet.
Educated at Cheltenham College from 1903–1907, where he was in Southwood House and was a member of the Clifton Rugby Club, Fabian went on to study for a BA at University College, Oxford, qualifying in 1911. At Oxford, Fabian was captain of his college rugby team.
After university, Fabian went to work for the “Bristol Times and Mirror” newspaper, before going to live and work in London. In September 1914, he was commissioned as a Temporary Lieutenant and joined the 8th Service Battalion of the Royal Munster Fusiliers. In September 1915, he was promoted to the rank of Lieutenant and served as an Acting Captain on several occasions while in command of Companies.
Fabian was awarded three Divisional Parchment Certificates for gallantry in action and was awarded the Military Cross (MC) in October 1916: ‘For conspicuous gallantry during operations. By his skill and determination he beat off three counter-attacks of the enemy, who were endeavouring to reach his trench. Four days later he led his men in two attacks with great pluck’. When recommending him for a permanent commission in August, 1918, his Commanding Officer wrote: "This officer has served continuously in France for a period of two years and 8 months, and has commanded a Company both in and out of the line, for 2½ years”. The “Gloucestershire Echo” of Wednesday, 22 May 1918 reported that Fabian Strachan Woodley had been wounded.
After the war, Fabian studied for a Diploma in Journalism before working with his father on the staff of the “Somerset County Gazette”. He went on to teach English at several schools, including Wrekin and served with the Officers Training Corps (OTC). He taught for many years at the Peter Symonds School in Winchester.
On the 1939 Census, Fabian was living in Winchester and described himself as a Secondary School Teacher. He died on 8th August 1957.
Fabian’s WW1 poetry collection was entitled “A Crown of Friendship, and other poems” and was published by Woodley, Williams & Dunsford, Taunton, in 1921.
Catherine W. Reilly - “English Poetry of the First World War: A Bibliography” (St. Martin’s Press, New York, 1978), p. 342
"Aftermath" by Fabian Strachan Woodley
God! this is Death in Life – to wake at morn
Heart-sick with memories; till the sun set
To watch the long day wane, with soul forlorn
For ever striving to forget – forget!
Gone is the old content; from field and flower
The glory fled; Pleasure turned Bitterness;
Desire grown dim ere ever the longed-for hour
Might in oblivion steep the heart’s distress.
Could I but hear once more the bugle sound,
Into belovèd eyes look once again,
Clasp the strong hands of fighting men – my men,
In one united comradeship firm bound –
From the dead ashes of My Self would soar
A Phoenix-soul in love with Life once more!
You can read more of Fabian’s poems on AC Benus’s fantastic website
Sources: Catherine Reilly, Find my Past, Free BMD and Wikipedia
Monday, 28 March 2022
Younger brother of the poet and writer G.K. Chesterton
Educated at St. Paul’s School in London, Cecil went on to train as a surveyor and estate agent. He wrote for “The New Age” magazine and later worked for a publishing company.
In 1912 Cecil purchased Hilaire Beloc’s magazine “The Eye-Witness” and re-named it “The New Witness”, editing the magazine for four years. In 1916, he married writer and journalist Ada Elizabeth Jones.
During the First World War, Cecil joined The Highland Light Infantry as a Private and served on the Western Front. Wounded three times he returned to the trenches and was taken ill but refused to leave his post before the Armistice was signed. Cecil was taken into hospital where he died on 6th December 1918 with his wife at his side. Ada was also able to attend her husband’s funeral. Cecil was buried in Terlincthun British Cemetery, Wimille, Pas de Calais, France.
Cecil had poems published in twelve WW1 poetry anthologies.
BECAUSE for once the sword broke in her hand,
The words she spoke seemed perished for a space;
All wrong was brazen, and in every land
The tyrants walked abroad with naked face.
The waters turned to blood, as rose the Star
Of evil Fate denying all release.
The rulers smote, the feeble crying "War!"
The usurers robbed, the naked crying "Peace!"
And her own feet were caught in nets of gold,
And her own soul profaned by sects that squirm,
And little men climbed her high seats and sold
Her honour to the vulture and the worm.
And she seemed broken and they thought her dead,
The Overmen, so brave against the weak.
Has your last word of sophistry been said,
O cult of slaves? Then it is hers to speak.
Clear the slow mists from her half-darkened eyes,
As slow mists parted over Valmy fell,
As once again her hands in high surprise
Take hold upon the battlements of Hell.
From “A Treasury of war poetry: British and American poems of the World War, 1914 – 1917” (Houghton & Miflin, Boston, Mass., USA, 1917)
Sources: Wikipedia, Find my Past and
Catherine W. Reilly.- “English Poetry of the First World War: A Bibliography” (St. Martin’s Press, New York, 1978) p. 83.
NOTE: "Oppy Wood, 1917, Evening" by John Nash (Art. IWM ART 2243)
Oppy Wood is in Arras, France. After the fall of Vimy Ridge, the Germans withdrew to the high ground of Oppy Wood, North East of Arras, The Capture of Oppy Wood was an engagement between May and June 1917.
John Northcote Nash CBE, RA (11 April 1893 – 23 September 1977) was a British artist. He was the younger brother of the artist Paul Nash. John's health initially prevented him enlisting at the outbreak of the First World War but his health improved and from November 1916 to January 1918 he served in the Artists Rifles, the unit that his brother had joined in 1914 before taking a commission in the Hampshire Regiment. John served as a sergeant at the Battle of Passchendaele and at the battle of Cambrai. On the recommendation of his brother, from 1918 John worked as an official war artist from 1918.
With thanks to Sue Robinson of the Group Wenches in Trenches for sending this poem
Donald Alexander Mackenzie was born in Wigan, Lancashire, UK on 1st June 1889. His parents were Duncan Mackenzie, a commercial traveller, and his wife, Jessie, who were both from Scotland. Donald had the following siblings: Finlay Mackenzie, b. 1874, Annie Mackenzie, b. 1876, Maggie Mackenzie, b. 1878 and William Mackenzie, b. 1880.
Educated at Standishgate Weslyan School and Wigan Grammar School, he went on to study at Victoria University, Manchester.
Donald became a teacher and taught at Carre’s Grammar School, Sleaford, 1910-1913, Central Secondary School, Sheffield, 1913-1920.
Volunteering for service during the First World War, Donald served initially as a Lieutenant in C Battery, 317th (Northumberland) Brigade, Royal Field Artillery TF for four years.
He wrote a poem about Wigan, originally entitled “Home Thoughts from France” while on the Somme in May 1918.
After the war Donald became Secretary for Higher Education, Sheffield, Assistant Editor of “Teachers’ World” until 1944, Principal of Gaumont British Education Division, 1944-1949. In 1951 he was working as a freelance journalist, living at ‘The Grove’, Greville Park Avenue, Ashstead, Surrey.
Donald died in Worthing, Sussex in 1971.
Sources: Find my Past, Free BMD and https://www.wigan.gov.uk/Docs/PDF/Resident/Leisure/Museums-and-archives/archives/Past-Forward/pf33.pdf
Saturday, 26 March 2022
Educated at St Paul's School, Gilbert went on to study at the Slade School of Art, planning to become an illustrator. As an adult, Gilbert was a large man, 6 feet 4 inches (1.93 m) tall and about 20 stone 6 pounds (130 kg; 286 lb) in weight. His rotund girth gave rise to an anecdote during the First World War, when a lady in London asked why he was not "out at the Front"; he replied, "If you go round to the side, you will see that I am."
On 28th June 1901, Gilbert married Frances Blogg in St Mary Abbots, Kensington. Frances was also a poet, (see http://femalewarpoets.blogspot.com/2022/03/frances-chesterton-1869-1938-british.html). She was passionate about her husband’s writing, encouraged him and acted as his personal assistant. In 1909 the couple moved to Beaconsfield, Buckinghamshire, where they lived until their deaths.
Gilbert served as a member of the British Propaganda Bureau during WW1.
As well as being a poet, writer and journalist, Gilbert was also a talented artist. He illustrated several books.
Cecil, who also became a poet, joined the Highland Light Infantry as a Private and served on the Western Front. Wounded three times, Cecil died on 6th December 1918.
Gilbert died on 14th June 1936, and his wife, Frances, died on 12th December 1938.
Gilbert’s WW1 poetry collections were:
“Poems” (Burns & Oats, 1915)
“The Ballad of St. Barbara and other verses” (Cecil Palmer, 1922)
"Collected poems" (Burns, Oates & Washbourne, 1927)
“Collected poems” (Methuen, 1933)
and he had poems published in 25 WW1 anthologies.
|Captain Charles Fryatt|
TO CAPTAIN FRYATT*
TRAMPLED yet red is the last of the embers,
Red the last cloud of a sun that has set;
What of your sleeping though Flanders remembers,
What of your waking, if England forget?
Why should you share in the hearts that we harden,
In the shame of our nature, who see it and live?
How more than the godly the greedy can pardon,
How well and how quickly the hungry forgive.
Ah, well if the soil of the stranger had wrapped you,
While the lords that you served and the friends that you knew
Hawk in the marts of the tyrants that trapped you,
Tout in the shops of the butchers that slew.
Why should you wake for a realm that is rotten,
Stuffed with their bribes and as dead to their debts?
Sleep and forget us, as we have forgotten;
For Flanders remembers and England forgets.
From “The Ballad of St. Barbara and other verses” by G.K. Chesterton (Cecil Palmer, London, 1922) (St. Barbara is the patron saint of artillery and of those in danger of sudden death.)
Captain Charles Algernon Fryatt (2 December 1872 – 27 July 1916) was a British mariner who was executed by the Germans for attempting to ram a U-boat in 1915. When his ship, the SS Brussels, was captured off the Netherlands in 1916, he was court-martialled and sentenced to death because he had attacked the submarine as a civilian non-combatant. International outrage followed his execution near Bruges, Belgium. In 1919, his body was reburied with full honours in the United Kingdom.
|Captain Fryatt's ship - The S.S. Brussels|
Sources: Find my Past, Free BMD
Catherine W. Reilly.- “English Poetry of the First World War: A Bibliography” (St. Martin’s Press, New York, 1978) p. 84. and
Monday, 21 March 2022
Edmund Clerihew Bentley (1875 –1956) - British novelist; inventor of the Clerihew humorous verse form
I have included Edmund here because he was made a Chevalier of the Order of the Crown - a Belgian award - for 'valuable services in the Allied cause' during WW1 and, while he may not have written any verse during the conflict, he was an important British poet
Educated at St Paul's School, London, before going on to Merton College, Oxford University, Edmund became a journalist and worked for several newspapers, including “The Daily Telegraph”. He also worked for the weekly magazine “The Outlook” during the editorship of James Louis Garvin.
When he was sixteen and a pupil at St Paul's School, the lines of his first Clerihew - about Humphry Davy - dropped into Edmund's head during a science class. Together with his schoolfriends, one of whom was G.K. Chesterton, Edmund filled a notebook with examples.
In June 1902, Edmund married Violet Alice Mary Boileau in Brentford, Middlesex. Violet's father was Neil C. Boileau, a senior officer in the British Army By 1911, Edmund and Violet were living in Hampstead and had the following children - Neil Edmund Boileau Bentley, b. 1903, Violet Bentley b. 1904 and Nicholas Clerihew Bentley b. 1908.
According to a notice in The London Gazette of 16th May 1919, Edmund received an award – Chevalier of the Order of the Crown - conferred by His Majesty the King of the Belgians in recognition of valuable services in the Allied cause
Edmund died in 1956 in London. His son Nicholas Bentley, who preferred to spell his first name Nicolas, became an artist.
|Cover of the first book|
Edmund's first Clerihew:
Sir Humphry Davy
He lived in the odium
Of having discovered sodium.[
“Biography for Beginners” Edited by E. CLERIHEW, B.A. With 40 Diagrams by G. K. CHESTERTON (T. Werner Laurie, London, 1905) is available to view as a free down-load from the Gutenberg Project:
The Order of the Crown
The Order of the Crown is the second highest Belgian Order of Knighthood, junior only to the Order of Leopold. H.M. King Leopold II established the Order in 1897. Receiving a Knighthood in the Order of the Crown is considered a gift of very high value in international diplomacy. This award can be compared to the modern 'Order of the Merit'...
It was awarded for important contributions to the First World War effort by way of artistic, written or scientific contributions, or important contributions to industry and trade.
A Clerihew has the following properties:
It is biographical and usually whimsical, showing the subject from an unusual point of view; it mostly pokes fun at famous people
It has four lines of irregular length and metre for comic effect
The rhyme structure is AABB; the subject matter and wording are often humorously contrived in order to achieve a rhyme, including the use of phrases in Latin, French and other languages.
The first line contains, and may consist solely of, the subject's name. According to a letter in The Spectator in the 1960s, Bentley said that a true clerihew has to have the name "at the end of the first line", as the whole point was the skill in rhyming awkward names.
Clerihews are not satirical or abusive, but they target famous individuals and reposition them in an absurd, anachronistic or commonplace setting, often giving them an over-simplified and slightly garbled description.
G.K. Chesterton wrote a poem to Violet Boileau:
Saturday, 12 March 2022
Gabriele D’Annunzio, Prince of Montenovoso, Duke of Galiese OMS, GMG, MVM (1863 - 1938) –Italian poet, writer, playright soldier and airman
|With a fellow officer WW1|
In 1883, Gabriele married Maria Hardouin di Gallese and they had three sons but the marriage did not last. His first novel ,“Il Piacere (translated as The Child of Pleasure), was publsihed in 1889. In 1897, he was elected to the Italian Parliament’s Chamber of Deputies (Camera dei deputati) as an Independent.
A lavish life-style meant that Gabriele ran up debts and in 1910 he moved to France where he worked with Claude Debussy on a musical play. However, when war broke out, Gabriele returned to Italy and spoke in favour of Italy entering the conflict on the side of the Allies of the Triple Entente. His efforts were successful in 1915 when the signing of the Treaty of London brought Italy into the war on the side of the allies.
Having flown with Wilbur Wright in 1908, Gabriele learnt to fly and volunteered as a fighter pilot. He lost the sight of one eye in a flying accident.
In February 1918, he took part in a raid on the harbour of Bakar in the west of Croatia.
On 9th August 1918 he was commanding the 87th Italian Fighter Squadron, nick-named “La Serenissima”, and led nine planes in a 700 mile round trip to drop propaganda leaflets on Vienna.
|Gabriele d'Annunzio portrait|
In 1924, King Victor Emmanuel III of Italy gave him the title of Principe di Montenevoso.
Gabriele died in 1938 at his home in Gardone Riviera, Brescia, Lombardy, and was given a state funeral. He was buried in the garden of his home which is known as the Vittoriale degli Italiani (The Shrine to Italian Victories).
Here is one of Gabriele's poems:
NOTE; Marshal of Italy Luigi Cadorna, OSML, OMS, OCI (4 September 1850 – 21 December 1928) was an Italian general and Marshal of Italy. He was most famous for being the Chief of Staff of the Italian Army from 1914-1917 during the First World War. Because of the multiple and consecutive failed attacks led by him, the large number of casualties incurred among his own men (outnumbering enemy casualties), plus his personal reputation as disproportionately bitter and ruthless, Cadorna is often considered one of the conflict's worst generals.
Sunday, 13 February 2022
|John is on the end of the back row |
on the right
Behind the lines in Flanders
A Corps Commander raged –
The Front was not the only place
That War was being waged –
The Nth Dragoons were dirty!
In wrath he named a day,
And, were the Nth not clean by then,
There would be Hell to pay!
. . . . . . . .
At three they had Reveillé –
“Black Jack” was due at ten –
From peep of day they slaved away
Till horses, saddles, men
Outshone the sun in splendour,
Outdid the newest pins –
The curtain rises, this is where
A Tragedy begins: -
First let me introduce y ou
To Trooper Albert Hake,
Who, grooming, as we see him now,
Is hissing like a snake:
Meet, also, one called Ginger,
His horse, A92,
And learn from Ginger’s glossy coat
What ‘elbow-grease’ can do.
When Hake had saddled Ginger
A man could see to shave
In leather’s gleaming surface, or
The glint that bright steel gave;
The back of every buckle
Showed polish, too, and spit –
All justified the looks of pride
That Hake bestowed on it.
Hake went to fetch his jacket,
Parade was nearly due,
Here Destiny took things in hand
To show what she could do –
To Ginger came a tickle
Beneath the blankets’ fold,
He squirmed, he wriggled, tried to bite,
The ropes, ‘built-up’ and ‘head’ were tight,
The thing persisted, come what might,
He had to – Yes! He rolled!
The sun shone bright that morning,
But ‘ere the dawn, the rain
Had left the lines a sea of mud
That rendered sweeping vain:
So Hake returns to Ginger
To find the awful truth –
The coat that carried silken sheen,
The saddle cleaner than the clean,
Behold them now – a slimy green! –
A tragedy in sooth!
A Soldier’s sense of humour
Here lent its kindly aid.
Past praying for felt Albert Hake,
Yet very nearly prayed!
He held his hands to heaven,
And when he got his breath,
His words were few, but chosen well,
“Roll on! Oh ____ing Death!”
pp. 75 – 77 “Hoof-Marks and other impressions”
Sources: Information from the Archives of Cheltenham College, from Find my Past, Free BMD and
Catherine W. Reilly “English Poetry of the First World War: A Bibliography” (St. Martin’s Press, New York, 1978), p. 122
John Orr Ewing, “Hoof Marks, and other impressions (poems), (G.H. Dixon, Witherby, 1934). On the inside fly leaf of the book is a dedication/inscription:
As John Orr Ewing married a Gwendoline Curtis, I feel there is some sort of connection but I am not sure what. If anyone can help please get in touch.
George Scholefield Dixon (1890 – 1960) - artist and illustrator (illustrated John's poetry collection)
Born in Hunslet, Yorkshire, UK on 20th April 1890, George’s parents were George Dixon, a clerk, and his wife Clara Dixon, nee Scholefield. George studied at Leeds School of Art. Although a portrait painter, he was primarily an illustrator and commercial artist with works reproduced in such publications as Punch, Tatler and Bystander; he exhibited at the Royal Academy. He was a regular exhibitor at the Royal Academy and an active member of the London Sketch Club.
This WW1 soldier poet has been found for us through some amazing research by author, poet, translator, historian AC Benus.
AC Benus is the author of a book about German WW1 poet Hans Ehrenbaum-Degele : “The Thousandth Regiment: A Translation of and Commentary on Hans Ehrenbaum-Degele’s War Poems” by AC Benus (AC Benus, San Francisco, 2020). Along with Hans's story, the book includes original poems as well as translations. ISBN: 978-1657220584
https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1657220583 and https://www.amazon.com/dp/1657220583
AC Benus, who often helps me with research, told me that Reginald translated “The Sonnets of Karl August Georg Max Graf von Platten-Hallermünde” (Boston, 1923) and included this poem of dedication in the translated volume. It is this poem that led AC Benus to think he may have written other poems during WW1 … and the search began.
"TO F. G. C. of the Royal Air Force" by Reginald Bancroft Cooke
To you, in memory of war- time days,
When your New Zealand and my Canada
Fought with our England 'neath a single star
Against one foe, who set the world ablaze
To you the thoughts this slender book conveys
I beg to offer from this land afar,
Hoping some verses here perchance there are
Which may be not unworthy of your praise.
For these are stolen fruit. I have but lent
The means whereby another might confess
His heart to those whose hours cannot be spent
In foreign vineyards, there the juice to press
From foreign vines. Therefore to what extent
His thoughts are mine 'tis yours, my friend, to guess.
If anyone has any idea who F.G.C of the Royal Air Force was please get in touch.
Mention of "our England" in the poem, led me to research and I discovered that Reginald was born in Birkenhead, Cheshire in 1887. His parents were Bancroft Cooke, a Managing Director, cotton broker and general merchant, and his wife, Emily Sarah Cooke, nee Madge, who were married in June 1876. Reginald had a brother – Leonard Austin Cooke, born in 1880. In 1901 the family lived in a house called The Lems, Kirklake Road, Formby, Ormskirk, Lancashire, England. He seems to have spent a great deal of time in the United States of America - I imagine that his father must have had friends and possibly even family there due to his involvement with cotton. Reginald studied at the University of California, Berkley.
Information on the Princess Patricia’s Canadian Light Infantry Record Card shows Reginald enlisted as a Private on 4th October 1915 in London, Ontario. He gave his home address as Carpentaria, California, U.S.A. He had been in the University’s cadet corps and was described as a ‘student teacher’.
Additional research carried out by AC Benus confirms that the information I found about Reginald is correct. Reginald graduated on 11th May 1910 with a Masters of Arts from Berkley.
Reginald also published a collection of his own poems – “Some Sonnets of a Passing Epoch”, Reginald Bancroft Cooke (Southworth Press, Maine, 1925) - 61 pages
According to the inside cover of Reginald's collection, he obtained a Ph.d from the University of Wisconsin.
Here are some of the poems from Reginald's WW1 collection:
SHIPS of the line ! Men of the mast ! Yo-ho !
The sea is England's proper battle ground,
And not since Aboukir has there been found
So fine an admiral as Jellicoe.
Blow hard, ye winds, adown the North Sea, blow !
Surge, ye tumultuous waves which still surround
Our island homes ! From every bourne and bound
Join with our guns to sink this upstart foe.
Long shall their landsmen sailors rue “ the day"
When they crept forth too far from sheltering shores,
For many a year their children's children pray
That they may truly have no further cause
To learn what better had been learned in school,
That on the ocean Britons ever rule.
THE PLEDGE OF THE PRINCESS PATS
WHAT deeds are those that blazon bright the name
Of Connaught's royal daughter on the scroll
Of history ! While the battle thunders roll
O’er the fair vales of France, and the fierce flame
Of just revenge illumes the land, their fame,
Like a loud trumpet, shall inspire the soul
Of Canada, aye, and from pole to pole
Long shall resound. And well ye know whence came
These warriors; how, like a flowing tide,
Gladly their homeland has outpoured her best,
Their deeds a pledge that, trusted and well tried
On many a field, She shall fight on beside
Her parent, Britain , until, east and west,
Our empire stands triumphant, undefied.
NOTE: The Battle of the Nile –1st August 1798 – fought near Alexandria in Egypt - was also called the Battle of Aboukir when Admiral Lord Nelson was in command of the British Fleet.
Sources: Find my Past, FreeBMD and The Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry who inform me that the 26th Battalion doesn’t exist anymore, but they are perpetuated now by The Royal New Brunswick Regiment.
Friday, 11 February 2022
I think we may have found another WW1 VC poet - William was found for us by Loraine Sherlock, in whose Grandmother's autograph book William wrote the poem featured here and pictured below when he was a Curate at St. Edmond's Church, Salisbury, Wiltshire, UK
William volunteered to serve in the British Army Chaplain’s Department and became a Temporary Chaplain of the Forces, 4th Class in the Army Chaplain's Department, British Army.
He served in Mesopotamia and was awarded a Victoria Cross (VC) for most conspicuous bravery on 9th April 1916 at Sanna-i-Yat when he carried a wounded man to the cover of a trench and assisted several others to cover, binding up their wounds under heavy rifle and machine gun fire. In addition to these unaided efforts, by his splendid example and utter disregard of personal danger, he encouraged the stretcher-bearers to go forward under heavy fire and collect the wounded.
|The poem written by The Reverend William Robert Fountaine Addison|
in 1913, when he was Vicar of St. Edmunds Church, Salisbury
Sunday, 9 January 2022
The Royal Army Ordnance Corps (RAOC) was a corps of the British Army. At its renaming as a Royal Corps in 1918 it was both a supply and repair corps. In the supply area it had responsibility for weapons, armoured vehicles and other military equipment, ammunition and clothing and certain minor functions such as laundry, mobile baths and photography. The RAOC was also responsible for a major element of the repair of Army equipment.
“The Forgotten Letter”
1. Don’t go to the ‘Pictures’ or ‘Concert hall’,
But stay in your billet tonight,
Deny yourself to your pals that call,
And a Good long letter write.
Write to the Dear ones left at home.
Who sit when the day is done.
In the even’s twilight cold & grey,
And dream of the absent one.
2. Don’t selfishly scribble ‘Excuse my haste’,
I’ve but little time to write,
Les their anxious heart should yearn as they think
Of many a bygone night;
When they lost their needed sleep & rest.
And every breath was a prayer.
That God should keep their loving son
Through life in His tender care.
3. Don’t let them feel that you have no need
Of their love and counsel wise,
For the heart grows very sensitive
When sorrow has dimmed the eyes.
Remember, comrade, your mother’s words
As you entered the ranks with delight
‘Good-bye’ and ‘God bless you’ my dear brave boy
And ‘Don’t forget to write’.
4. Now I wonder if ever you give a thought
As with comrades you daily unite
To the anxious suspense you may have caused
By neglecting that letter to write.
I know that ‘tis well to have comrades true
Who make your pleasures gay
But they have but half the thought for you
That your mother has to-day.
5. So tell them what you intend to do
Let them and your pleasure wait
Lest the letter for which your mother has longed
Be a day or an hour too late
For with loving heart she waits at home
With cheeks tear-stained & white
Longing to hear from her soldier son
Who perhaps has forgotten to write.
Wednesday, 5 January 2022
Having posted this on several Facebook pages, I received a reply from Julie Cauvin from the Facebook Group Wenches in Trenches about Miss B. Gaviller. Julie says : "Her full name was Babette Olive Gaviller. She was born in England in 1892 and emigrated to Canada with her parents in 1898. She died in Collingwood, Simcoe, Ontario on 13th March 1970.
I think she had a sweetheart named Victor. One of her family members on Ancestry says on 13th June 1916, in the Canadian Convalescent Home for Officers, near Dieppe, France, Olive wrote “While we have been here, so many officers, both Canadians and English, have told me over and over again how splendid he (Victor) was at the front”. She never married.
No one is even remembering her on Find a Grave. I’ll put in a request for a picture of her grave. She’s buried at All Saints Anglican Cemetery, Collingwood, Ontario.
Babette served from 9/7/1915 until 4/3/1919."
Photo of Babette’s grave from Julie: Here you go, she's buried with her parents."