Paul Graham Clark (1897 - 1918) – British born New Zealand poet

With thanks to Dr Connie Ruzich* for finding this poet for us

Paul Graham Clark was born in Leicester, Leicestershire, England in 1897. His parents were Alfred Clark, a physician and surgeon, and his wife, Isabella E. F.Clark, nee Christy. Paul’s siblings were Phyllis K., born 1898 in Leicester and Victoria C., born 1901 in Sholing, Hampshire.

In March 1901 the family home was at Bath Lodge, Bath Road, Heathlands Terrace, Sholing, Hampshire. I found a reference to Paul travelling to Australasia in 1903, when he was six years old, so the family may have gone to live in New Zealand at around that time. 

Paul studied medicine at Auckland University College and also enrolled at St John’s in 1915.  He applied and was accepted for a Maria Blackett Scholarship the same year when he had to take leave of absence to enlist in the New Zealand Expeditionary Force. He was initially rejected as underage and wasn’t accepted into the force until 1918. He attained the rank of Second Lieutenant. 

Information taken from Paul’s Army records show that he gave his mother as his next of kin living at Victoria Avenue, Remera, Auckland, New Zealand. He was issued the serial number 46224 on enlistment. Paul embarked on 8th February 1918 as part of the 34th Reinforcements Auckland Infantry Regiment, “A” Company from Wellington, New Zealand aboard H.M.N.Z.T. 100 “Ulimaroa” bound for Liverpool, England. 

The archives at the John Kinder Theological Library hold correspondence from Clark to the St John’s College Trust Board asking for leave from the college and whether they can hold his scholarship for him until he returns from the war. He was killed while fighting in Bapaume, France, during the Second Battle of Bapaume on 26th August 1918 and was buried in the Achiet-Le-Grand Communal Cemetery Extension, France, Grave Reference: III. F. 28.

Paul is also remembered on the King’s College Honour Roll for the Great War 1914-1918.

A poem written by Paul Graham Clark:

“En Voyage”

They’ve swung her out into the harbour now

And she’s rounded the Heads at last,

While the waves of the briny break over her prow

And New Zealand’s a thing of the past.

We’ve said good-bye to the “missis,”

And kissed all the kiddies, too,

With a note to all that will miss us,

And a special one sent up to you.

We’re a speck in the boundless ocean now,

Just a thousand poor souls, all told;

And feel just like — well, just like how

We felt back in the days of old

When they fitted us out in Bill Massey’s boots,

Dished each one out a spoon and a fork,

Then lined us up like a lot of coots

And told us we couldn’t talk.

Oh, what of the squeamish first few days,

When we’d hardly cleared N.Z.!

The transport ship Ulimaroa leaving Wellington Port, NZ 

How the fellows in hundreds of different ways

Went over and hung the head.

They’d stay there forlorn for hours on end

While they gazed at the ship’s black side,

And swore they were counting the rivets up —

But somehow I think that they lied.

They shove us at night into our six by two’s

In a hole that should only hold ten;

But at somebody’s order — I wish I knew whose —

It’s branded “Two hundred men.”

The air’s none too good of a night time,

But when in the morning we wake,

You could take out your knife and slice it

Then scrape it away with a rake.

The tucker’s as good as it always was -

— I don’t think! ” did you say?

Well, what if it isn’t, we’ll eat it because —

Well, if we didn’t it wouldn’t pay.

We’ve not come out on a picnic, boys,

Nor yet on a pleasure trip,

So we’ll have to give up a few of our joys

When aboard the King’s troopship.

New Zealand troops after the capture of Bapaume

So we’re swinging away on our journey still

And we’ve nothing to trouble us yet,

Save our thoughts of the land that knows no ill

And the folks that we can’t forget.

For a life on the ocean waves all right,

And there’s a good time yet to come;

But as sure as the moon shines bright to-night

There’s no place now like home.

We’re steaming ahead for England and France

All willing to do our bit;

We’re willing to live or die, just as

Chance in her uncertain way thinks fit.

But back of the mind of each one of us

Is the land we are longing to see,

Where bush fire and beach are a part of us

Way back in our “ain countree.”

Paul Graham Clark

SOURCES;

*Initial Source: Dr Connie Ruzich's wonderful website Behind their Lines: https://behindtheirlines.blogspot.com/2018/08/a-new-zealanders-war.html

Additional Sources

Find my Past, FreeBMD, 

https://www.kinderlibrary.ac.nz/remembering-anzacs-paul-graham-clark/

Leicestershire And Rutland, Soldiers Died 1914-1920

https://www.findmypast.co.uk/transcript?id=GBM%2FLEIC-RUT%2F3904&expand=true&tab=this