Friday 27 January 2017

1915-06-18un

Hamiltonians, anxious to learn about the Battle of Ypres and the condition of friends and family who participated in that battle, were starting to get the details via letters.
Many of those letters were printed in the pages of the local newspapers.
On June 18, 1915, the Hamilton Spectator published the following letters:
“J. Bell, of Walter Woods and company, has received the following letter from a friend, Bob Tugnett, who has been wounded.
It reads : ‘Just a few lines to let you know that I am back in old England once again and expect to be for another two months at least.
“ ‘As, no doubt, you are aware, I got hit in that little flare-up at Ypres on April 22. I will not worry you with details, as it is possible you have read all about it in the local papers. Another thing, it is pretty hardtop say what was going on except that bullets and shells were flying all over the place, just like a heavy hail storm, with a few hundred bolts thrown in. I can only say it is a real wonder that any of us are alive today, as we had practically no artillery to support us, and then the French were running away by the dozen. I believe that one of the Canadian officers tried to rally them in order to get them to form a second line, but you might as well have tried to stop a swarm of hers as stay them. Still, I am alive, that is the main thing.
“ ‘I wrote to you a few days before I was hit, and since I have written to France to ask them to forward any letters for me over there. But I have had none as yet. In fact, I have had no news from anyone connected with Hamilton at all lately. I have written several times, but got no reply.
“ ‘Speaking for myself, I am pleased to say that I am as well as ever, but the wound in my arm is pretty troublesome. I was hit in the left forearm, between the wrist and the elbow, the bullet going right through without hitting any bones, but badly poisoning it. So much that, after five weeks’ treatment, it is very little better. I have had one operation and should have another before it is finished. I have no use in the fingers of my left hand at all, but hope to get that back later on. But, I am in no hurry, the longer the better for me.
“ ‘I have had an invitation to visit the Masonic lodge when I get better, and am looking forward to going there.
“Mrs. H. Greathead, 237 West avenue north, has received the following letter from her cousin, dated May 24:
“ ‘Just a few lines to let you know I am back in the trenches again. We have been in for several days now, and things are lively here. Yesterday the Germans shelled our trenches nearly all day, and that put a few of our boys out of action.  The beggars can sure shoot straight. It’s rather hard on a man’s nerves sitting in a trench all day and night, and not knowing when he may be blown to atoms. This is the first time in the trenches for about half of our men, and it is rather rough on some of them, getting shelled so hard the first day. However, most of them laugh and have their little joke the same as the rest of us. But, gee ! this is a miserable place. There are dead bodies lying in heaps all over the place.  The smell is horrid sometimes, but we are getting most of them buried. We found the Germans that we drove out of this place about six days ago lying in heaps, literally torn to pieces, some of them had their arms and legs blown off. It certainly was a horrible sight to see and one that I won’t forget as long as I live.
“ ‘Here comes a treat. One officer has just come down the trench with some Players cigarets. We don’t see very many of them out here. All my mail that came when I was wounded was sent to the hospital, but I came away before most of it got there. So now I have to wait till it comes back to the battalion again. Mail is the one thing we look forward to getting most out here.
“ ‘I suppose you have heard about the battle of Ypres by this time. I am sure our battalion lost more than any other in the contingent, and believe me, the old 31th boys were right in the thick of it, and so were the 91st lads. There are in the 18th battalion. Two of them were in the same ward with me in the hospital.
“ ‘Tell them to hurry those shells along in Hamilton, as we need them all. I suppose you will be going down to some cool place today, as it is the 24th of May, but I’ve got to stick in this old trench with the sun beating down on me like a coal stove, and the shrapnel flying about my ears like a hail storm. But I should worry. Such is life in war time.
“ ‘We have just received the news that Italy has declared war. So that is another bee in the kaiser’s bonnet. When those blamed shells come over our way, we have to drop flat on the bottom of the trench. If we don’t, we are liable to get a free ticket to the happy hunting grounds. So you can bet when I hear them coming, I drop to the ground like greased lightning. When the weather is calm, we can hear them coming two or three seconds before they reach us. So I keep my ears open and when I hear one coming, I just make a noise like “a duck and dive.’
“In a letter to friends in the city with whom he made his home prior to his enlistment, Pte. E. Vincent, who went to the front with the 13th regiment quota, recounts some of his experiences in the recent fighting in France.
“ His letter was as follows: ‘Dear Friends : Just a few lines to let you know I am safe, but none too well at present, as I am suffering from shock occasioned by the bursting of some of Bill’s coat boxes too closely by, but I am in hope that I may feel better again in a few days. You will no doubt have seen it reported that I was wounded, although I was sent a few feet by a shell. That was on April 22, and I went to the hospital and got back with the boys on May 9. Out of the Hamilton boys, I found about thirty, the rest of them having been either killed or wounded. So now we have a lot of the 23rd battalion with us. On May 22, we went into the trenches again for a few days. We were not there long before we had five killed and wounded. On the third night, at La Basace, we had to go from the reserve trench to the firing trench. All went well until we got half way, when the Huns commenced their game by shelling us, but we managed to get there without injury to anyone. I never expected to get out of it alive, for it just rained shrapnel for about fifteen minutes. On the fourth night, I got the shock, and, believe me, was glad to get away, for there was nothing but dead Huns all over the place and no chance to bury them on account of shell fire. Talk about the odor around the chemical works! Everything around the lines is a mass of ruins. The fields in front of us are a succession of holes caused by the shell fire. Some of the holes are nearly as big as your back garden.
“ ‘I am having a rest in number 8 general hospital, Versailles, and, believe me, it is a nice place. Now I must close and send the best of wishes, I am your friend,
                             E. VINCENT”1
1 “Greater the Danger, Higher the Spirits : Hamilton Men Tell of Life at the Front”

Hamilton Spectator.   June 18, 1915 

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