Remembering Leonard Comer Wall who was killed on 9th June 1917

Remembering today, 9th June 2017, WW1 Soldier Poet Leonard Comer Wall who was killed a hundred years ago on 9th June 1917. Leonard was buried in Lijssenthoek Military Cemetery. He is one of the poets featured in the 1917 commemorative exhibition on display at The Wilfred Owen Story in Argyle Street, Birkenhead, Wirral.

See earlier posts about Leonard.

http://forgottenpoetsofww1.blogspot.co.uk/search?q=Leonard+Comer+Wall

Photo by Paul Breeze.   There are still some copies of the Wirral Poets 2017 Calendar left if anyone wants one. Leonard is featured in June.

Gerald George Samuel (1886 – 1917) – British

Gerald was born in Marylebone, London, UK on 6^th May 1886.  His parents were Marcus Samuel, first Viscount Bearsted and his wife, Fanny Elizabeth Samuel, nee Benjamin, Viscountess Bearsted.  Gerald’s father ran an import company, trading with the Far East and set up the Shell Transport and Trading Company.

Gerald had the following siblings - Walter Horace Samuel, 2nd Viscount Bearsted; Nellie Samuel (married name Ionides) and Ida Marie Samuel (married name Sebag-Montefiore).  Educated at Eton College, Gerald travelled to Japan, Canada and the United States in 1912.

During the First World War, Gerald was turned down twice when he applied to join the Army, due to defective eyesight.  However, he was commissioned into the Queen’s Own Royal West Kent Regiment and posted to the Western Front, where he was wounded twice.

Gerald was killed leading his men during the Battle of Messines on 7^th June 1917.  At the time of his death, he held the rank of Lieutenant.  He is commemorated on the Menin Gate Memorial, Ypres, Belgium, panel 45 and 47, at Willesden Cemetery in London and at Eton College.

Gerald devoted his life to the welfare of working lads in the East End of London, and had a Home for Orphans built - The Samuel and Myer Home. On his death Gerald bequeathed the house and £10,000 for its maintenance to the Jewish Board of Guardians.

Gerald George Samuel’s WW1 poetry collection “Poems” was published by Arthur L. Humphreys, London in 1917.  Source:  Catherine W. Reilly "English Poetry of the First World War: A Bibliography" (St. Martin's Press, New York, 1978)

I don’t usually comment on the writing of the poets I feature but I am very impressed indeed by Gerald George Samuel’s writing, enjoyed reading his poems and made a few notes to share with you.  

The Introduction, written by Gerald’s father, has a copy of the last letter of encouragement Gerald wrote from the Front to the boys he worked with in Stepney. I found it particularly moving.  And in the poem “My Aim” Gerald wrote that he would like “To make the world a happier, better place” (page 24).

Gerald described the weapons of the conflict, which was the first using the tools of the Industrial Revolution, as “the brutal inventions of crime” and the conditions in the trenches as “the pitiless welter of shell” (From “Consolation”, page 32).

In “Lost Years” I found a sentiment reflected in one of my Mother’s favourite poems – “The Moving Finger writes…”: from Edward FitzGerlad’s translation into English of Omar Khayam’s poem in Farsi:

“For I cannot call back the ebbing tide

And live again the seasons that are gone.” (page 34)

On page 40 is a poem dedicated “To Music” – echoing my own feelings about music:

And on page 41 are a few lines about music, poetry and art.

I leave you with two of Gerald’s poems:

“War and After” 

I hope that when at last these days are o’er,

I may return my labours to renew,
And try to wipe away the marks of war
That stain the nations with their bloody hue.
To bring some ray of solace to a few,
To make their lives less difficult to live,
Is all I ask.  My work I shall not rue
If I can help to comfort some who grieve,
And added happiness to some poor toilers give.

Untitled (page 22)

I care too little for this earth

To love it, though it gave me birth;
But I would leave to those like me
In future days some legacy.

Joy is not mine, but if my pain

Bring forth for someone else a gain:
I only wish that when in Heaven
I may observe the joy I’ve given.

“May” (page 27)

But I would not forgotten be,

When only dust is left of me:
And so I try, with painful strife,
To justify my having life.

From "Poems" by Gerald George Samuel (Arthur L. Humphreys, London, 1917)

Poets killed in WW1 who are commemorated on the Menin Gate Memorial, Ypres, Belgium

Tom BRANDON, kia 13th May 1915, Ypres

The Hon. Gerald William GRENFELL, Lieutenant, Rifle Brigade, 2 Bn., kia 30th July 1915, Ypres - His poems were published in two WW1 Anthologies.

(NOTE:  The Hon. Julian Grenfell who died on 26^th May 1915 of wounds sustained on 12^th May 1915 near Ypres, is buried in Boulogne Eastern Cemetery.)

Sydney HALE, 8th Battalion, Rifle Brigade, kia 31st July 1915, Zouave Wood

Walter Scott Stuart LYON, a Lieutenant in the Royal Scots, kia 8th May 1915, Ypres – His WW1 collection “Easter at Ypres 1915 and other poems” was published by Maclehose, Glasgow in 1916.

The Hon. Colwyn Erasmus Arnold PHILIPPS, MC, Captain, Royal Horse Guards, kia 13th May 1915 – His WW1 collections “Verses, prose, fragments, letters from the Front” was published by Murray in 1916 and he had poems published in two WW1 poetry anthologies.

Gerald George SAMUEL, Royal West Kent Regiment, kia 7th June 1917 during the Battle of Messines – His WW1 collection “Poems” was published by Humphreys in 1917.

Frank S. Brown (1893 - 1915) – Canadian

Francis Smith Brown, known as Frank, was born in Canada in 1893.  His father was the Reverend S.G. Brown of Almonte, Ontario.

Frank described himself as a ‘soldier and clerk’ when he joined the Princess Patricia’s Regiment at the outbreak of war. He was known as the “poet of the Pats.”

Frank was among the first of the Canadians to come to Britain in WW1.  His unit was initially stationed on Salisbury Plain, where he spent some time in hospital when he became ill.  Frank was an accomplished pianist and sang as a baritone.  He was also a good horseman and an expert shot.  After his recovery, Frank was posted to the Western Front where he served with the rank of Sergeant.   He was killed at St. Eloi on 3rd February 1915. and is remembered on the Menin Gate Memorial, Menenstraat, 8900 Ypres, Belgium - Panel 10.

Frank had poems published in the “Ottawa Citizen” newspaper and his  WW1 Collection “Contingent Ditties and Other Soldier Songs of the Great War“, edited by Holbrook Jackson, was published by Sampson Low, Marston & Co. Ltd., London, in 1915.  The collection is available as a free down-load here: https://archive.org/stream/contingentdittie00brow/contingentdittie00brow_djvu.txt

Source: “Contingent Ditties and Other Soldier Songs of the Great War” (Sampson Low, Marston & Co. Ltd., London, 1915) 

“THE P.P.C.L.T. (Princess Pat's)”

The trumpet sounded loud o'er hill and plain :

To Arms ! To Arms ! Our Empire is at war !

Come, join your colours, on the land or main.

All Britons who have served the King before.

And in the mountain mine; by prairie plow,

They answered to the trumpet's brazen voice :

They, who had served the Empire long enow

As soldiers by profession and from choice.

No conscripts, these, in whose unwilling hands

Weapons are thrust, to wage unwilling strife.

But — freemen all, who needed not commands

To volunteer their service, limb and life.

Thus rose a regiment, as 'neath a wand.

Of seasoned men, with medalled service too :

Soldiers from every corps throughout the land —

Britons beyond the seas; tried men and true.

This is indeed a princely gift to give

To our Imperial Realm in crisis sore —

Proud in the nation of the sturdy men,

And prouder yet of him who raised the Corps.

Then go, ye able sons of Britain's soil,

To take your place, wherever it may be ;

God speed you in the glory — and the toil.

Princess Patricia's Canadian Infantry.

“THE CONVOY”

The sunny rose of autumn's smoky day

Had almost fled. The chill was in the air,

When issued forth from Gaspe's smiling bay

A grand Armada, 'neath a cruiser's care.

A great and grand flotilla, speeding forth

Beneath the oily pall of clinging smoke —

A gift to Motherland, of priceless worth —

Th' Atlantic's lazy swells to life awoke.

Thrice ten and two great modern Argosies,

That hurried to the Field the best of youth

To bear their country's colours o'er the seas,

And herald Canada to national growth.

Great sons of sires whose willing blood has given

To our New World the sterling of the Old ;

Most worthy volunteers are these, undriven

To take up arms ; freemen, but strong and bold.

Beneath the watching escort's wakeful eyes

The fleet pulsed on. The ocean's lazy roll

Bore three long straggling lines, 'neath low'ring skies,

Spread as a flock of geese cleave toward their goal.

Thrice ten and two great, sullen merchantmen,

As, sullen in their cloaks of drab and black,

They freighted over thrice ten thousand souls.

How many of these same pay they bring back ?

The days roll by. The ocean slowly yields Its bosom to the squadron's steady pace,

Until the cliffs of England rise to greet

The scions of her colonizing race

Come home — to give their all. Come home -  to fight.

Come home— though born of that far Western land,

Where Britain's shield is 'stablished for the right,

They volunteered to lend an armed hand.

Oh 1 Plymouth, Cradle of the mighty Drake ;

The haven of his vessel's hopes and fears ;

Yet have you ever seen so fine a sight?

Or have you waked to such a crest of cheers

As roars aboard the transports, on whose decks

Are packed the khaki hosts ? Has e'er a day

Such wealth of loyal blood, such willing hands

Brought to your shores ?

All England answers, " Nay."

Alan Seeger commemoration evening, American Library in Paris, Monday, 5th June 2017 at 19h. 30

At the American Library in Paris on Monday evening, 5th June 2017, American writer Chris Dickon will give a talk about the life of Alan Seeger and his involvement and death in WW1.  Alan’s father founded the American Library in Paris after the war.

Composer/saxophonist Patrick Simmerli will perform a piece of music he has composed inspired by Alan Seeger. 

The evening promises to be very entertaining - find out more here:

 https://www.americanlibraryinparis.org/events-programs/library-events/eventdetail/3539

Alan Seeger is one of the poets featured in the book “Somme Poets”, available from www.poshupnorth.com

The American Library in Paris

10, rue General Camou,

75007 PARIS,

France.

 

 

Harold Parry (1896 - 1917) - British

With many thanks to Lynne Sidaway who suggested I research this forgotten WW1 poet, and to John Vallance, Archivist at Queen Mary’s Grammar School for additional information.  

Harold was born one of twins in Bloxwich, Walsall, West Midlands, UK on 13^th December 1896.  His parents were David Ebenezer Parry, a mining engineer and colliery manager, and his wife Sarah, nee Arkinsall.  Harold's siblings were:  Donald b. 1891, Dorothy, b. 1892, and Victor, his twin.

Educated initially at a local preparatory school, Harold went on to Queen Mary’s Grammar School, Walsall, where he joined the Cadet Corps, wrote poetry and excelled at cricket and football.   He went on to study at Oxford University.

Harold volunteered to join the Army in January 1916 and was commissioned as a Second Lieutenant into the King’s Own Yorkshire Light Infantry.   Transferred to the 17^th Battalion of the King’s Royal Rifle Corps, Harold was posted to the Western Front, where he continued to write poetry.

From a commemorative Display at the
Queen Mary's Grammar School

Harold was killed on 6^th May 1917 at Ypres and was buried in Vlamertinghe Military Cemetery, West Flanders, Belgium.   He is also commemorated in Field Road Cemetery, Bloxwich.

Harold Parry’s WW1 poetry collection “In Memoriam Harold Parry” - Parry's Poems and Letters, with a Foreword by Geoffrey P. Dennis, was published by W.H. Smith in 1918.

 

"Tommy's Dwelling"

I come from trenches deep in slime,

Soft slime so sweet and yellow,

And rumble down the steps in time

to souse "some shivering fellow".

I trickle in and trickle out

Of every nook and corner,

And, rushing like some waterspout,

Make many a rat a mourner.

I gather in from near and far

A thousand brooklets swelling,

And laugh aloud a great "Ha, ha!"

To flood poor Tommy's dwelling.

Sources:  Catherine W. Reilly “English Poetry of the First World War – A Bibliography” (St. Martin’s Press, New York, 1978), p. 249.

Find my Past, Free BMD, 

http://webwalsall.com/local-history-centre/?page_id=29 

https://thebloxwichtelegraph.com/2011/11/13/remembering-harold-parry/

John Vallance, Archivist at Queen Mary’s Grammar School

Erwin Clarkson Garrett (1879 – 1954) - American

While looking for information about British soldier poet Nathan Percy Graham, I came across Erwin Clarkson Garrett, an American soldier poet of the First World War.

Erwin was born on 28^th March 1879 in Germantown, Philadelphia in the United States of America. His parents were George L. Garrett and his wife Sophia Cooper Garrett, nee Gray.

 In 1906, Erwin graduated with a Bachelor of Science degree from the University of Pennsylvania.  He enlisted as a Private in the American Army and served during the Philippine Insurrection of 1899 – 1902 in the 23^rd Infantry.

Erwin then travelled around the world.   In 1916 he published “Army Ballads and Other Verses”.

In August 1917, following the entry of America into the First World War, Erwin travelled at his own expense to France, where he enlisted in the American Army in Paris on 1^st September 1917.  He served as a Private in Co. “G” of the 16^th Infantry of the AEF and was awarded the Purple Heart and Silver Star.

Erwin died in October 1954.

In 1919, Erwin published “Trench Ballads, and Other Verses” which were all written while he was in the Trenches on the Western Front - published in 1919 by The John C. Winston Company, Philadelphia, USA.   The collection is available as a free down-load on Project Gutenberg and if you scroll down you will not only find his poems but also copious notes about his time in France, which are fascinating:  http://www.gutenberg.org/files/40379/40379-0.txt

Source: http://prabook.com/web/person-view.html?profileId=1086648


CHARLIE CHAPLIN IN BLIGHTY by Erwin Clarkson Garrett from "Trench Ballads, and Other Verses"

The mess-hall windows blanketed
    To bar the western light—
The tables cleaned and cleared away,
And bench by bench in close array
Five hundred convalescents sway
    To catch the caption bright.

And there are men with helpless legs,
    And torn chest and back;
And men with arms in sling and splint,
And one poor eye that bears no glint,
And muscles limp or turned to flint—
    And souls upon the rack.

They came from Chateau Thierry—
    From Fere-en-Tardenois—
From Soissons, Oulchy-le-Chateau,
From Rheims and Fismes, where blow by blow,
’Cross Marne and Oureq and Vesle aflow
    They hammered them afar.

And now upon the screen is thrown
    An old familiar form:
’Tis Charlie of the strong appeal,
At skating-rink or riot meal,
And every mirth-producing reel
    Awakes the farthest dorm.

The aching head, the splintered arm,
    The weary, dragging feet;
The wound that took a month to drain—
The everlasting, gnawing pain—
Are all forgot and gone again
    When Charlie strikes the street.

Your esoteric shrug and sneer
    And call him crude and quaint;
But we who’ve seen him “over here”—
Who’ve heard the laugh that brings the tear—
Who’ve heard the bellowing roar and cheer—
    _We_ call him Charles the Saint.