Robert Bagster Wilson Vinter, MC (1896 – 1916) – British soldier and poet

With grateful thanks to Rachel Hassall, Archivist at Sherborne School, Dorset, UK

Robert was born in Torpoint, St. Germans, Cornwall, UK on 5th April 1896.  His parents were Sydney Garrett Vinter, a medical practitioner, and his wife, Frances Vinter, nee Toms.  Robert had a sister – Frances Jean, born 1904.

Educated at Sherborne School, Dorset, Robert was awarded a scholarship to study at Keble College, Oxford.  However, the First World War intervened and instead he was commissioned as a Second Lieutenant into the 6th Worcestershire Regiment.  

Posted to the Western Front, Robert was awarded the Military Cross on 28th July 1916 for conspicuous gallantry during an attack on an enemy crater.   He was killed in action near Les Boeufs (Vimy Ridge) in France on 31st October 1916, during the Battle of the Somme.  Robert is remembered on the Thiepval Memorial in France and on the War Memorial in Torpoint, Cornwall.  

An untitled poem written by Robert:

The Saviour fast nailed to the Cross,

Suffered theloss of comforting divine

Because the world’s sin burdened him too much

With black despair. Some of that sin was mine.

Hard sought, scarce won, He set my spirit right

And bade me follow up th’illumined way!

Nor leaves me now amid the rocks and thorns,

Uncomforted, but is my staff and stay.

October, 1916 R.B.W.V.

Published in “The Shirburnian” magazine of Sherborne School in April 1917. 

Sources:

“The Shirburnian” magazine, April 1917

Find my Past, FreeBMD, 

“Supplement to The London Gazette, 27 July 1916

http://somme-roll-of-honour.com/Units/british/2nd_worcestershire.htm

The Rev. Geoffrey Anktell Studdert Kennedy MC, CF (1883 - 1929) – British Anglican priest, Rugby player, poet and WW1 Chaplain, who was known as 'Woodbine Willy'

Born in Leeds, Yorkshire, UK, on 27th June 1883, Geoffrey Anktell Studdert Kennedy’s parents were William Studdert Kennedy, Vicar of St Mary's, Quarry Hill in Leeds, and his wife, Jeanette, nee Anktell.  Geoffrey was the seventh of nine children. His paternal grandfather, Robert Mitchell Kennedy, was Dean of Clonfert in County Galway, Ireland from 1850 until his death in 1864. One of Geoffrey's brothers was Hugh A. Studdert Kennedy, a biographer of American religious leader Mary Baker Eddy.

Geoffrey was educated at Leeds Grammar School before going on to study at Trinity College, Dublin, Ireland, where he gained a degree in classics and divinity in 1904. After a year's training at Ripon Clergy College, a Church of England theological college in Cuddesdon, Oxfordshire, Geoffrey became a curate at St Andrew's Church, Rugby, and then, in 1914, the Vicar of St. Paul's, Worcester.

When the First World War began, Geoffrey volunteered as a Chaplain to the British Army on the Western Front, where he gained the nickname "Woodbine Willie". In 1917, he was awarded the Military Cross at Messines Ridge after running into no man's land to help the wounded during an attack on the German frontline.

During the war he supported the British military effort with enthusiasm. Attached to a bayonet-training service, Geoffrey toured with boxers and wrestlers to give morale-boosting speeches about the usefulness of the bayonet. One of his inspirational speeches is vividly described by A. S. Bullock as "the most extraordinary talk I ever heard'. Bullock notes that the listeners 'were a very rough, tough lot, but they sat spellbound", and quotes a section of the speech, at the end of which "everybody sprang to their feet and cheered him to the echo".

Geoffrey wrote a number of poems about his experiences, and these were published by Hodder & Stoughton under the tittles “Rough Rhymes of a Padre” (1918), “More Rough Rhymes”(1919), “Songs of faith and doubt” (1922), “The Sorrows of God, and other poems” (1921) and a collection of his works was published under the title “The Unutterable Beauty” by Hodder & Stoughton in 1927.

Geoffrey also had a poem published in “A Treasury of War Poetry : British and American poems of the World War, 1914 – 1919” edited by George Herbert Clarke (Hodder & Stoughton, 1919). 

THE SECRET

You were askin' 'ow we sticks it, 

Sticks this blarsted rain and mud,

'Ow it is we keeps on smilin'

When the place runs red wi' blood.

Since you're askin' I can tell ye,

And I thinks I tells ye true,

But it ain't official, mind ye,

It's a tip twixt me and you.

For the General thinks it's tactics,

And the bloomin' plans 'e makes.

And the C.O. thinks it's trainin',

And the trouble as he takes.

Sergeant-Major says it's drillin',

And 'is straffin' on parade,

Doctor swears it's sanitation,

And some patent stinks 'e's made.

Padre tells us its religion,

And the Spirit of the Lord;

But I ain't got much religion,

And I sticks it still, by Gawd.

Quarters kids us it's the rations,

And the dinners as we gets.

But I knows what keeps us smilin'

It's the Woodbine Cigarettes.

For the daytime seems more dreary,

And the night-time seems to drag

To eternity of darkness,

When ye ave'nt got a fag.

Then the rain seems some'ow wetter,

And the cold cuts twice as keen,

And ye keeps on seein' Boches,

What the Sargint 'asn't seen.

If ole Fritz 'as been and got ye,

And ye 'ave to stick the pain,

If ye 'aven't got a fag on,

Why it 'urts as bad again.

When there ain't no fags to pull at,

Then there's terror in the ranks.

That's the secret - (yes, I'll 'ave one)

Just a fag - and many Tanks.

'Woodbine Willy'

THE SPIRIT

When there ain't no gal to kiss you,

And the postman seems to miss you,

And the fags have skipped an issue,

Carry on.

When ye've got an empty belly,

And the bulley's rotten smelly,

And you're shivering like a jelly,

Carry on.

When the Boche has done your chum in,

And the sergeant's done the rum in,

And there ain't no rations comin',

Carry on.

When the world is red and reeking,

And the shrapnel shells are shrieking,

And your blood is slowly leaking,

Carry on.

When the broken battered trenches,

Are like the bloody butchers' benches,

And the air is thick with stenches,

Carry on.

Carry on,

Though your pals are pale and wan,

And the hope of life is gone,

Carry on.

For to do more than you can,

Is to be a British man,

Not a rotten 'also ran,'

Carry on..

'Woodbine Willy'

Sources:  Find my Past, FreeBMD, Wikipedia

Catherine W. Reilly “English Poetry of the First World War: A Bibliography” (St. Martin’s Press, New York, 1978).  Pp 5 and 185 - 186

James Reese Europe (1881 – 1919) – lyricist, composer, musician, band leader and WW1 soldier

With thanks to John Daniel for reminding me that I had not yet written about James Reese Europe, found for us by Dr. Connie Ruzich 

Born in Mobile, Alabama, USA on 22nd February 1881, James’ parents were Henry Jefferson Europe (1848–1899) and his wife Loraine Europe, nee Saxon (1849–1930).  James had four siblings, Minnie Europe (Mrs. George Mayfield; 1868–1931), Ida S. Europe (1870–1919), John Newton Europe (1875–1932), and Mary Loraine (1883–1947).  The family moved to Washington, D.C., when James was 10 years old. 

During the First World War, James was commissioned into the New York Army National Guard and served as a Lieutenant with the 369th Infantry Regiment (known as the "Harlem Hellfighters") when it was assigned to the French Army. James was the first African-American officer to enter the trenches of WW1 and the first  to lead troops in combat.

Additional information from John Daniel:  France awarded the Regiment the Croix de Guerre. One hundred-and-seventy-one of the Regiment's men received individual Croix de Guerre medals for their valour during the First World War. 

While in France James directed the regimental band to great acclaim. In February and March 1918, James Reese Europe and his military band travelled over 2,000 miles in France, performing for British, French and American military audiences, as well as French civilians. 

The "Hellfighters" also made their first recordings in France for the Pathé Brothers. The first concert included a French march, and the Stars and Stripes Forever, as well as syncopated numbers such as "The Memphis Blues", which, according to a later description of the concert by band member Noble Sissle "... started ragtimitis in France".

Injured during a gas attack, James used his time in hospital to compose music; among the songs he wrote while recuperating was “On Patrol in No Man’s Land.”° 

“On Patrol in No Man’s Land”

What's the time? nine? all in line

Alright, boys, now take it slow

Are you ready? Steady!

Very good, Eddie.

Over the top, let's go

Quiet, sly it, else you'll start a riot

Keep your proper distance, follow 'long

Cover, smother, when you see me hover

Obey my orders and you won't go wrong

There's a minnenwerfer coming --                               

look out (bang!)

Hear that roar, there's one more 

Stand fast, there's a Very Light                                   

Don't gasp or they'll find you alright

Don't start to bombing with those hand grenades

There's a machine gun, holy spades!

Alert, gas! Put on your masks

A-just it correctly and hurry up fast

Drop! There's a rocket for the Boche barrage                  

Down, hug the ground,

close as you can, don't stand

Creep and crawl, follow me, that's all

What do you hear? Nothing near

Don't fear, all is clear

That's the life of a stroll

When you take a patrol

Out in No Man's Land!

Ain't it grand?

Out in No Man's Land.

James Reese Europe

You can listen to the 1919 recording of the song here. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YeIET9ZIkGk

After his return home in February 1919, James stated, "I have come from France more firmly convinced than ever that Negros should write Negro music. We have our own racial feeling and if we try to copy whites we will make bad copies ... We won France by playing music which was ours and not a pale imitation of others, and if we are to develop in America we must develop along our own lines."   

James was one of the first African-American musicians to make it to mainstream - James Reese Europe (more commonly known as “Jim Europe”) was the first black bandleader to record in the United States and the first to conduct a black orchestra performing ragtime/jazz music on the concert stage of New York’s Carnegie Hall.

James died on 9th May1919 and was buried in Arlington National Cemetery · Arlington,  Arlington County, Virginia, USA.

Sources:  Information kindly supplied by John Daniel, Wikipedia 

https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/6553895/james-reese-europe   and 

https://behindtheirlines.blogspot.com/2017/02/out-in-no-mans-land.html

Dudley Eyre Persse (1892 - 1915) – Irish poet and WW1 soldier

 

With grateful thanks to Ciaran Conlan for finding the link that led to the discovery of this forgotten WW1 soldier poet and to Derek O Byrne White for his help in discovering that Dudley was a poet and finding out more about him.   

Dudley Eyre Persse was born on 14th August 1892 at Eyrecourt, Portumna, County Galway, Ireland (Eire).  His parents were Alfred Lovaine Persse and his wife, Florence Geraldine Persse, nee Eyre.

On the Census of 1911, when he was 18 and listed as a scholar, Dudley was recorded living in his parents' house at 20.2 Grove Park (Rathmines & Rathgar West, Dublin).

During the First World War, Dudley served as a Captain in the Royal Dublin Fusiliers, Unit 4th Batallion, attached to 2nd Batallion. He was seriously wounded while on active service on the Western Front -   

‘He saw some Germans going into a wood some distance off and wanted to telephone to the General.  There was no telephone in the trench, so he ran 80 yards across the open in a hail of bullets and telephoned from another trench. The General ordered the wood to be shelled at once and commended him for what he had done. He also found that the Germans were mining the trench, and started counter-mining, which stopped the enemy’s game, so he did all he could bravely, poor boy.’ (De Ruvigny’s Roll of Honour)

Sadly, Dudley died of his wounds  on 1st February 1915 at No. 2 Casualty Clearing Station, Bailleul, France.  Dudley was buried in Bailleul Communal Cemetery, Bailleul, Departement du Nord, Nord-Pas-de-Calais, France; Grave Reference:  PLOT F. 6.

Derek O Byrne White put me in touch with Gerard Kearnery  who has published two books about the extremely interesting Persse Family – “The Perse Family of County Galloway” and “In Days That Were: The Great War and Beyond” – both  books are available to purchase from http://www.kennys.ie

I am hoping to be able to up-date this post with further information.

Sources:

A tag from Ciaran Conlan on a post on a Facebook page commemorating Irish Soldiers of WW1

Additional Sources:  

https://catalogue.nli.ie/Record/vtls000134590

https://www.wikitree.com/wiki/Persse-173

https://www.clarelibrary.ie/eolas/coclare/history/clare_men_women_great_war_29.pdf

     

Edouard Chiesa, Croix de Guerre (1887 - 1915) – French poet

With thanks to Yetkin İşcen who posted information about this poet on the Facebook page Artists of the First World War And to Lyn Edmonds via Twitter - @edmondslynEric Ingouf via Twitter - @misteringouf – for considerable additional information 

Edouard Paul Chiesa was born in Marseille, France on 30th January 1887.  During his milirary service in the 2nd Regiment of Mountain Artillery (2e Régiment d’Artillerie de Montagne), Edouard reached the rank of Maréchal de Logis (Tr. 'marshal of lodgings').  

When his military service ended in 1913, Edouard became a Reserve Second Lieutenant and went to work in an office.  He continued writing poetry and articles, sending them to local newspapers. The Bulletin des Écrivains of 1914 identifies Edouard Chiesa as a regular contributor to newspapers in the South of France.

Maréchal de Logis is a sub-officer rank used by some units of the French Armed Forces. It is traditionally a cavalry unit rank. There are three distinct ranks of maréchal des logis, which are generally the equivalents of sergeant ranks (although they generally have less responsibility than a British or Commonwealth sergeant).

When war broke out in 1914, Edouard rejoined his Regiment and served in France until he was posted to Gallipoli, where he was killed on 7th August 1915.

AU JOUR LE JOUR (IMPRESSIONS ET FRAGMENTS)

1. APRÈS LE DÉPART :

Le navire s'est éloigné. L'espace est large.

On aperçoit la ville au loin telle une marge.

Le ciel, qui joint la mer au bord de l'horizon,

Semble, sous le soleil couchant, en fusion,

L'air est tout rose où vont en planant les mouettes.

Les brises ont fraîchi. Mais, les lèvres muettes,

Les passagers assis songent, les yeux sur l'eau,

Comme songent ceux qui s'en vont. Un matelot

Furtivement passe, pieds nus, dans le silence

Où la machine bat, semblant un cœur immense.

English trnslation:

DAY BY DAY (PRINTS AND FRAGMENTS)

1. AFTER DEPARTURE:

The ship has moved away. The space is wide.

We can see the city in the distance like a margin.

The sky, which joins the sea to the edge of the horizon,

Seems, under the setting sun, in fusion,

The air is all pink where the seagulls glide.

The breezes have freshened. But, with silent lips,

The seated passengers are thinking, their eyes on the water,

As those who leave think. A sailor

Furtively passes, barefoot, in silence

Where the engine beats, resembling an immense heart.

Gravestone found by Yetkin İşcen

Yetkin İşcen found Edouard Chiesa's grave stone in an olive grove in Gelibolu Seddülbahir, near today's Turkish monument.

Sources: 

Information supplied by Yetkin İşcen via https://www.facebook.com/groups/385353788875799

https://pgg.parisnanterre.fr/lesindividus2/brouillon-auto-86

https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/bpt6k10409590/f2.image.r=%22bulletin%20des%20%C3%A9crivains%22

CROSS, Tim. "The Lost Voices of World War 1 An International Anthology of Writers, Poets and Playwrights" (Bloomsbury Publishing Ltd., London, 1989), p. 391

Poems and prose by Edouard Chiesa were included in “Anthologie des écrivains mort à la guerre 1914-18 (Association des écrivains combattants, Amiens, 1924 – 26 – 5 volumes) – Volume 3 – pp. 167 - 170

https://books.google.co.uk/books?redir_esc=y&hl=fr&id=Woc6AAAAMAAJ&focus=searchwithinvolume&q=Chiesa+

https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=mdp.39015065457205

WW1 song lyrics written by a member of the 5th (Reserve) Battalion, New Zealand Rifle Brigade (Earl of Liverpool’s Own),

 

With thanks to Andrew Mackay and Jane Tutte via Andrew’s Facebook page:

Published in “The Taranaki Herald” on 31 December 1918, this appears to have been written by a member of the 5th (Reserve) Battalion, New Zealand Rifle Brigade (Earl of Liverpool’s Own), which was then serving at Brocton Camp in Staffordshire. 

The battalion had been stationed at Sling Camp on Salisbury Plain since June 1916, but the accommodation at the camp became overcrowded and on 15 August 1917 the N.Z.R.B. Reserve Troops were moved to tents at Tidworth Pennings. However, the canvas camp would not be suitable for the troops as colder weather approached and an alternative station was required. It was decided to quarter the battalion on Cannock Chase, where more suitable hutted accommodation was available, and on 27 September the battalion entrained for Brocton, which lies at Cannock Chase between Stafford and Cannock. The strength of the N.Z.R.B. Reserve Troops at this time was 1,925 all ranks, and they were joined by the 27th Reinforcement, which had disembarked at Liverpool from New Zealand and had arrived at Brocton ten days previously.

The units were reorganised to become the 5th (Reserve) Battalion, The New Zealand Rifle Brigade, and Brocton Camp was designated the New Zealand Rifle Brigade Reserve Depot. The “Dinks,” as the Riflemen were known, remained on Cannock Chase until 14 June 1919, when the last detachment of the 5th (Reserve) Battalion left Brocton for Codford Camp.

Sources: The poem was kindly provided by Historian and author Andrew Mackay and the link to information regarding the lyrics was provided by Jane Tutte:

https://ourwar1915.wordpress.com/2017/09/28/the-battalion-national-anthem-a-verse-from-the-dinks/?fbclid=IwAR3cCPnmS1zDK9REo-K1H32a5W2XOd9nW5Ko9LVgxo9Z5yiJ9EdBQomkv8s

Neil Munro (1863 - 1930) - Scottish WW1 Writer, Poet, newspaper Editor and War Correspondent

Neil Munro by
William Strang RA

Neil Munro was born in Inveraray, Stornoway, Ross & Cromarty, Scotland on 3rd June 1863.  He became a journalist, newspaper editor, poet, author and literary critic.  He married Jessie E. Adam and they lived in Busby, Renfrewshire, Scotland. They had five children.  At the outbreak of war in August 1914, Neil commented in verse:

       “Come awa, Jock, and cock your bonnet,

Swing your kilt as best ye can;

Audl Dumbarton’s Drums are dirlin’

         Come awa, Jock, and kill your man.”

Neil Munro as official
war correspondent, WW1

In his capacity as an official war correspondent, Neil visited the Western Front several times in 1914 and 1917.  The war touched him personally when his elder son, Hugh Adam Munro – a Captain in the 1st/8th battalion, Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders – was killed in France on active service on 22nd September 1915. Neil then concentrated on journalism again, but his work was affected by his poor health and the death of his son.

Neil died on 22nd December 1930.

Neil Munro’s WW1 poems were published by William Blackwood and Sons Ltd., Edinburgh in 1931, with the title “Poetry by Neil Munro” – with a preface by John Buchan. 

Some of Neil Munro’s poems were also published in 12 WW1 anthologies, among them:

Clarke, George Herbert 1873-1953 .- “ A Treasury of war poetry: British and American poems of the World War, 1914 – 1919.”  With intro. And notes. Second series. Houghton Mifflin, Boston (Mass.) 1919, which is available to read as a free download on Archive:

https://archive.org/stream/s2treasuryofwar00claruoft/s2treasuryofwar00claruoft_djvu.txt

NEIL MUNRO:  “Pipes  in  Arras” pp. 27 - 28

PIPES IN ARRAS  (APRIL 1917) 

IN the burgh toun of Arras 

When gloaming had come on, 

Fifty pipers played Retreat 

As if they had been one, 

And the Grande Place of Arras 

Hummed with the Highland drone! 

Then to the ravaged burgh, 

Champed into dust and sand, 

Came with the pipers' playing, 

Out of their own loved land, 

Sea-sounds that moan for sorrow 

On a dispeopled strand. 

There are in France no voices 

To speak of simple things, 

And tell how winds will whistle 

Through palaces of kings; 

Now came the truth to Arras 

In the chanter's warblings: 

“O build in pride your towers, 

But think not they will last; 

The tall tower and the shealing 

Alike must meet the blast, 

And the world is strewn with shingle 

From  dwellings of the past." 

But  to  the  Grande  Place,  Arras, 

Came,  too,  the  hum  of  bees, 

That  suck  the  sea-pink's  sweetness 

From  isles  of  the  Hebrides, 

And  in  lona  fashion 

Homes  mid  old  effigies: 

"Our  cells  the  monks  demolished 

To  make  their  mead  of  yore, 

And  still  though  we  be  ravished 

Each  Autumn  of  our  store, 

While  the  sun  lasts,  and  the  flower, 

Tireless  we'll  gather  more." 

Up  then  and  spake  with  twitt'rings 

Out  of  the  chanter  reed,  ^ 

Birds  that  each  Spring  to  Appin, 

Over  the  oceans  speed, 

And  in  its  ruined  castles 

Make  love  again  and  breed: 

"Already  see  our  brothers 

Build  in  the  tottering  fane! 

Though  France  should  be  a  desert, 

While  love  and  Spring  remain, 

Men  will  come  back  to  Arras, 

And  build  and  weave  again.'* 

So  played  the  pipes  in  Arras 

Their  Gaelic  symphony, 

Sweet  with  old  wisdom  gathered 

In  isles  of  the  Highland  sea, 

And  eastward  towards  Cambrai, 

Roared  the  artillery. 

Neil  Munro

Sources:  Wiki[pedia, Find my Past, FreeBMD,

Catherine W. Reilly.- “English Poetry of the First World War: A Bibliography” (St. Martin, Press, New York, 1978). P. 232, 

Clarke, George Herbert 1873-1953 .- “ A Treasury of war poetry: British and American poems of the World War, 1914 – 1919.”  With intro. And notes. Second series. Houghton Mifflin, Boston (Mass.) 1919.

https://www.express.co.uk/news/world-war-1/466382/Scotland-the-brave-Tough-kilties-battled-for-Britain-in-WWI

https://www.scottishpoetrylibrary.org.uk/poet/neil-munro/

http://www.inverclydeww1.org/honour-roll/hugh-adam-munro

Pastel Portrait of Neil Munro by William Strang RA (13 February 1859 – 12 April 1921) - a Scottish painter and printmaker who illustrated the works of Bunyan, Coleridge and Kipling.