Tig's Boys: Letters to Sir from the Trenches

by David Hilliam

Overview

The Lost Generation of the First World War were boys who had barely left school before they found themselves living in trenches, drowning in mud and living in constant fear of death. This unique collection of letters from a group of schoolboys who attended Bournemouth Grammar pays tribute to these boys who barely had the chance to become men. Bournemouth's grammar school was founded in 1901. Tragically, all boys who were pupils there in its first decade grew up to be of fighting age in the bloodiest war in history. Ninety-eight of them were killed, averaging about one death every fortnight throughout that conflict. However, it was not all unrelieved blood and slaughter. Life was hard, but often full of interest and surprise. Many of them wrote back to 'Tig' – their much-respected headmaster to tell him of their wartime adventures. Collectively, these letters provide a wide spectrum of the 'Great War.' We read of young men enjoying trying to catch rats in the trenches, winning bets on how long it would take to rescue a tank from no man's land, playing 'footer' amid the gunfire, and singing 'ragtime' in a rickety new-fangled aeroplane while 'rocking the machine in time to it.' This is the voice of the Lost Generation.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9780750954099
Publisher:	The History Press
Publication date:	10/01/2011
Sold by:	Barnes & Noble
Format:	eBook
Pages:	192
File size:	1 MB

About the Author

David Hilliam gave over 400 talks and wrote over 200 articles in local and national publications. His 18 books include the popular Kings, Queens, Bones and Bastards and Monarchs, Murders and Mistresses (The History Press)

Read an Excerpt

Tig's Boys

Letters to Sir, from the Trenches

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By David Hilliam

The History Press

Copyright © 2013 David Hilliam
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-7509-5409-9

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CHAPTER 1

LIFE IN THE TRENCHES

War means fighting. However, it also means long periods of discomfort, boredom, dirt, hunger and exhaustion. Those who endured life in the trenches on the Western Front probably remembered the squalor even more than the terror. Nevertheless, these conditions produced camaraderie among those forced to spend weeks and months together.

Arthur Wolfe describes 'our baptism of fire'

You may be interested in reading a short account of how we underwent our baptism of fire.

It was on or about the 20th of last month [January 1915] that we first went into action. The day before we went into billets only a few hundred yards behind our own lines. On the way up a German maxim caught us, but fortunately only two men were wounded. This happened about ten or fifteen yards behind me.

We were in action altogether that time for four days. The trenches when we went in were muddy but not at all bad, but during the time we occupied them we had rain, snow, hail, or sleet all the time, so that it was not very comfortable or pleasant. During the night a pretty heavy fire was maintained, but at day very little was necessary.

We marched to a village about three miles away and after a rub down, a good strong dose of rum, plenty of food and twelve hours' sleep we felt very much better. We have been in action since and feel quite old soldiers now.

At present we are resting, but expect to return to the trenches in about a week's time.

The school magazine, March 1915

Arthur Wolfe describes trench life, '... we fare pretty well'

Our losses to date number four or five killed, and about twenty-four wounded.

I believe in my last letter I related my experiences of one period in the trenches – when we stood in eighteen inches of mud for sixteen hours, suffered intensely from the cold, and came out wet through and through.

The conditions were altogether different in the period just completed. I was in the trenches for eleven hours at night. It was a beautiful moonlight night, consequently we had to use extreme care getting in and out in case we should be seen. The trench was perfectly dry, and the only thing that worried us was the cold.

This part of the line is rather advanced, and, therefore, no advantage would be gained by either side advancing at present. Things were very quiet indeed. You will understand how quiet it was when I tell you that we felt more real security in the trenches than in the billets which we occupied a few hundred yards in the rear of our position. Twice whilst there we made preparations to retire to bomb-proof dug-outs. German shells were flying all round us – the other buildings very close to us were hit, but fortunately we escaped.

We are at present enjoying a few days' rest, but expect to be sent back to the firing-line at any time.

Work in the front line of the trenches is not the hardest part of the campaign. At times we have occupied reserve trenches, where there is nothing to do but keep a good look-out. Cold monotonous work, this!

Then we have a lot of long marching to do from one point of the line to another, which carrying a heavy pack on your back, tires one out more than anything else.

For billets we generally are housed in barns, with or without roofs, but taking everything into account, we fare pretty well in this respect.

The school magazine, March 1915

Arthur Wolfe wrote this on 4 March 1915. He was killed one week later.

2nd Lieutenant Henry Budden has a 'marvellous escape'

I am now second in command of a battery of trench Howitzers attached to the 8th Division, and very nice little toys they are too. We have four guns, which throw quite a decent-sized shell filled with shrapnel, and they have an explosion like a 6-inch Howitzer.

It is the German machine guns that do the damage. They are awfully clever with them, as we found the last time this Battalion attacked. I shall not forget it for a long time. They also seemed to find a lot of big gun ammunition, but their shells, and especially their shrapnel, are not a patch on ours, but nevertheless one of them blew up 20 of my platoon, and my escape was marvellous. I was right in the middle of a group of 25 men, 14 of whom were killed and seven wounded, but I was only knocked down by a sod of earth and was not one whit the worse for my fall.

I am now some two miles behind the firing line at a place the Huns have knocked to pieces, but still the civilians live on here in spite of an almost daily shelling.

The school magazine, July 1915

Henry Budden wrote this on 4 June 1915. He was killed four months later.

2nd Lieutenant Arnold Whitting arrives at the Front

On the way I could see where the firing line was, owing to the many star-lights that were sent into the sky. These present quite a pretty sight and look rather like a firework display. From where I was it appeared as though I was completely surrounded, for these star-lights could be seen in every direction. It is really because, in this part, we are on a salient which makes a full semi-circle.

The next day I was told to go up into the trenches with the transport which takes up the rations. It was pouring with rain, and we had a walk of seven miles. The Belgian roads were in an awful state and we were continually treading in shell-holes.

By the time I arrived at the Battalion Headquarters I was absolutely drenched through and through. My Company was in the trenches at the time, so I had to go straight in as I was, and there I remained for two more days.

The school magazine, December 1915

Arnold Whitting enjoys seeing an irate sergeant-major getting stuck in the mud

The trenches were the last word in mud. Several times I was stuck and had to be pulled out, and, to a spectator, it would present rather a comical sight no doubt. When a party of men are detailed for a fatigue, they often have to stop while someone is pulled out. I remember seeing one poor chap having to leave his gum-boots stuck in the mud and push along in his socks!

I shall never forget one little incident. I was in the fire-trench, and just behind me were some men working at a dug-out. Presently a very irate sergeant-major came stumping along to tell them they were not doing it to his liking.

Suddenly he stuck in the mud and couldn't move. There he was, purple in the face, and condemning everyone to most unpleasant places! I had to turn away: it was really too funny for words. To add to his discomfort one of his boots refused to move, and he eventually stumbled away with one boot on and one boot off.

Although some of the men can hardly feel their feet owing to the wet and cold, they still remain cheerful. I think that was what impressed me most. Whatever were the conditions they always made the best of things.

The school magazine, December 1915

2nd Lieutenant Arnold Whitting tells of fatigue parties and the German snipers

I think while I was out here I experienced some of the worst weather they have had as all. In several places the trenches were falling in, which, naturally entailed a great deal more work.

There are fatigue parties detailed night and day, and they usually have to work four hours at a stretch. There has been no real fighting near our quarter for some time, although artillery has been pretty active.

Unfortunately German snipers are very smart, and have secured many victims who shewed themselves only for a moment.

The school magazine, December 1915

Later in the war, Arnold Whitting was awarded the Military Cross.

G.A. Turner, briefly away from the trenches, tries to buy some toothpaste in French

I wanted to buy some tooth-paste, and I had to gaze for many minutes into the window of a chemist's shop before I completed this masterpiece: 'Je désire quelque chose à laver mes dents.'

Before I was word perfect a girl pounced on me. She was so animated that I was terrified and nearly fled. However, I bubbled out my little phrase, and subsequently many more little phrases.

**** was quite jealous. I'm quite braced with the pronunciation of French à la Bournemouth School. ****'s pronunciation is appalling: he was at **** School. However, he doesn't come near to ****. He jumped into a cab at Havre and shouted with much gusto to the cabby chap: 'A la guerre, à la guerre, vitement!' meaning, of course, 'à la gare.'

The school magazine, December 1915

2nd Lieutenant G.A. Turner has a trench named after him

2nd lieutenant G.A. Turner, transferred from 3rd Dorsets to the Royal Flying Corps, whilst with the former contingent had a great deal of work to do in the trenches. By command of Brigade Headquarters a trench was name after him, 'Trench Turner,' in recognition of reconnoitring work done by him when he crept up to within ten yards of the German lines and obtained some valuable information.

Dr Fenwick, writing in the the school magazine, December 1915

2nd Lieutenant Edwin Hill goes flat on the ground when 'star shells' appear in the sky

I have been up into the front line trenches several times, and the day before yesterday I saw (through a periscope) the rifle of a German sniper who had established himself only 15 yards away from our trenches. He and one of our own snipers were exchanging shots all the time I was there.

It is rather trying work digging trenches close to the firing line at night. The Germans send up very brilliant 'star shells' at frequent intervals during the night. The only thing for us to do is to go flat on the ground until they die out.

The officer who was sharing my billet with me was unfortunately hit, along with three of his men, by a rifle grenade yesterday morning, so am now by myself.

The school magazine, December 1915

Lance Corporal A.H. Rogers learns a useful tip about how to fix detonators in bombs

By going on a special bombing course I get let off fatigues for a fortnight. The lectures are really interesting and the sergeant adds to the interest by telling us chatty little anecdotes of 'Sergeant So-and-so, who had his hands blown off when fixing a detonator, and Lieut. So-and-so, who was blown to pieces while taking charge of a bombing practice,' etc. All this adds to the interest.

I have done quite a lot of odd jobs ... such as fixing detonators in bombs. This is a somewhat ticklish job, and the instructor always tells you to hold the detonator between thumb and forefinger as it is better to have those two blown off than the whole of your hand.

P.S. I am a fully paid Lance Corporal now, getting 3d a day more than as a private and doing about six times as much work!!

The school magazine, December 1915

R. Tyson relates how the Germans taunt the English

Whilst in the firing line of these trenches I had about two hours sleep per night, so that all the spare time during the day was used for sleeping.

We get papers a day late, and it is interesting to note what mistakes are made almost daily in news of this district.

Yesterday, when a certain Battalion relieved us, the Germans shouted out 'Come on S*****s' [the name of the regiment]. It is most extraordinary how they learn what is going on here so quickly. They also, in one part of 'No man's land,' had placed a notice (by night) in English: – 'Lemberg is taken and the Russians are retreating, the French are no good, and we can eat you English!'

The school magazine, July 1916

R. Tyson enjoys a few days of well-earned leisure

We are again in billets after a fortnight in the trenches. Much of that time was passed in 'paddling' along trenches which were in most parts 6ins deep in water, other parts being very sticky or very slippery, as it was a clay district – some very famous brickfields. The rain was very heavy at times – now the heat is quite oppressive.

I have a bed to sleep in (mirabile dictu) and the Officers' Mess is a large room about 35ft by 20ft in a big house surrounded by a garden. Behind the Mess there is a conservatory containing unripe grapes. We are quite lucky here.

Yesterday we had some sports, which we finish to-night at 6 p.m. (unless spies have sent word to the Hun artillery about the meeting!)

I ran with 29 men of A Company in the 1,000 yards race. Last night we ran off the first heats of 100 yards, potato race, tug-of-war (also horseback tug-of-war, which was very ludicrous), etc.

At present I am sitting on my bed, frequently dropping the pencil to kill flies, which are as usual innumerable, with a piece of thin leather attached to a stick.

... P.S. Would you like any bits of shells, etc?

The school magazinee, July 1916

W.J. Ray, with 'heavy artillery', finds that 'German aeroplanes are our chief worry'

At present we are at a quiet part of the line and we have not been worried much by 'Fritz' yet. Up to now we seem to have been doing the worrying for we have had one or two little bombardments of our own which he has not answered.

It is easy at night to follow the trenches, which are not very far off. Machine guns are constantly going and all along the line the star shells are sent up. These make rather a fine sight for they light up all the country like day.

Another fine sight that we see nearly every sunny day is the shelling of aeroplanes. The little shrapnel clouds burst without any warning near the aeroplane, which flies very high. After a few seconds the explosion of the shell may be heard, and then other small clouds will appear generally nearer and nearer to the plane. It is not very often, however, that we have to shell German planes, for not many come over, but our own do a good deal of work.

German aeroplanes are our chief worry, for we have to be very careful in disguising our positions to give them no information as to our position. Should they get an idea where we were they would very soon send over something and we would have to move – if there was anything to move.

The school magazine, December 1916

How temporary 2nd Lieutenant H.A. Short gained the Military Cross

H.A. Short was awarded the Military Cross for conspicuous gallantry in action.

As bombing officer during an attack he shewed [sic] the greatest courage in maintaining the bomb supply and directing carrying-parties under heavy artillery and machine gun fire.

He was decorated by the King at the investiture on November 4th [1916], and returned to the front soon afterwards.

Dr Fenwick writing in the school magazine, December 1916

A.H. Rogers is assured that he has lice in his clothes

The men in the regiment are rough diamonds, but very good fellows, and they made us welcome when we arrived.

It was amusing to see them sitting round the fire in the barn which is our billet, killing lice in their clothes. Everyone abounds in lice here, but so far I've not suffered, though I'm assured by the old hands that I must have them on me by now.

We are expected to clean buttons and badges though all our cleaning tackle was taken away from us when we came out and none of us have anything at all.

The school magazine, March 1917

E.A.A. Chudleigh is put in charge of horses

I am glad the people in England seem to be realising, at last, what a big thing we are engaged in – out here that fact is forced upon one at every turn, and, in the face of everything, there is scarcely a despondent face out here.

I came across a bunch of men a day or two ago laying bets on which plot of ground the next shell would pitch – it never seemed to occur to them that it might be the one they were standing on.

I am transport officer to this Battalion now; it always strikes me as being rather funny my having been trained as a motor engineer and always being a great advocate of motor traction, and here I am in charge of the horseflesh end of the Battalion.

The school magazine, March 1917

Lieutenant H.G. Head repairs his tank at night

On one occasion when he was in action, and his tank in 'No Man's Land' it was struck by a German shell, which destroyed the clutch. Unable to move the machine, he and his men were obliged to abandon it and retire to their own trenches.

When night came they returned to the 'Tank' with the tools and spare parts necessary to do the repairs, but they were 'spotted' by a German searchlight and, the neighbourhood having become very 'unhealthy', they were obliged to discontinue their work and again retire.

They by no means gave up hope of retrieving their derelict tank, however, and the next day, under the cover of a friendly fog, they went out again, completed the repairs, and brought back the Tank in triumph.

We understand that, though barely 22 years old, Lieut. Head has been recommended for a 'Captaincy.'

Dr Fenwick, writing in the school magazine, March 1917

Lieutenant H.G. Head is awarded an Military Cross for a 'brilliant exploit' with his 'tank'

'The General Officer Commanding-in-Chief has, under the authority granted by HM the King, awarded the Military Cross to Temp. Lieut. H. G. Head, Heavy Machine Gun Corps, for gallantry in the field.'

(Continues...)

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Excerpted from Tig's Boys by David Hilliam. Copyright © 2013 David Hilliam. Excerpted by permission of The History Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Table of Contents

Contents

Acknowledgements,
Introduction,
A Brief Timeline,
Prologue Tig and His School,
One Life in the Trenches,
Two In those Flying Machines,
Three Around the World,
Four Getting Wounded,
Five Tig tells of Ninety-Eight Deaths,
Appendix 1 Dates, Facts and Figures,
Appendix 2 Decorations Gained,
Epilogue – 1919,
Epilogue – Twenty-First Century,
Further Reading,