1915-04-09oo

For Private John Inglis his service in the Great War was short. A resident of Hamilton’s Strachan street, Private Inglis had been among the first to volunteer with the Thirteenth in August, 1914.

However, on April 9, 1915, the soldier was back in Hamilton, invalidated home because of a serious bout of blood-poisoning, the result of an accident to him while on trench duty.

A reporter for the Hamilton Times sought out the soldier that day and the next day’s Times carried what the reporter called “an interesting story of the accident that befell him and of life in the trenches, with the bullets flying all around, injured men moaning; also of the comradeship that develops among those near one another, and on duty at the firing line.”¹

¹ “From the Trenches in Old France : Pte. John Inglis, Strachan Street Invalided Home.”

Hamilton Times .   April 10, 1915.

Private Inglis had been doing trench duty at Le Bas  just eight days, when, during a lull in the fighting, he decided to go to the rear to quench his thirst:

“After walking back in the darkness and wet, a distance of fifty yards, he stumbled into a hole made by a ‘Jack Johnson’ shell, over ten feet deep. The shell had been fired by the Germans during the day, in an effort to destroy the trenches, which were then occupied by the Canadians.

“It was drizzling rain and Private Inglis was unable to see the hole in the darkness. He yelled as he fell into the trap and was rescued immediately. It was apparent that he had been injured and he was rushed to the field aid hospital and thence transferred to the base where he was treated for injury to his stomach, which afterwards developed into blood poisoning. Realizing that it would be a long while before the soldier could do duty again, it was decided to invalid him home.”¹

In conversation with Private Inglis, the Times reporter learned of the horrors soldiers on the front line faced, such as seeing his comrades laughing and chatting with one another one minute, and the next minute seeing them writhing in pain upon being shot or struck by a shell:

“ ‘Of course, we do not see many killed. We are stretched out in the trenches and in touch only with say a dozen on either side of us. We do not walk around much in the trenches. That was dangerous as the German snipers were at work all the time.’ “¹

Private Inglis told the reporter that the Canadians displayed no nervousness or timidity when ordered into the trenches:

“ ‘Of course, the veterans of the South African war steadied us a lot. They had been there before and were not alarmed by the flying shells and rifle fire. We took courage from them and an hour after taking up our positions in a trench for the first time, we were tickled to death to be in there.

“ ‘No, the soldier doesn’t watch when he is hit. One young fellow, I don’t know where he was from, was shot through the body. He rolled over in agony and moaned a few times, and then was silent. As they were picking him up to carry him away to the hospital, he faintly murmured ‘Mother, mother.’ That was all he said, and I never heard of him again.  I don’t know what his name was but he was game to the core, and tried to smile as he was carried past us. He was shot through the body and probably fills an unmarked grave on the far off French plains now.’ ”¹

The Times reporter ended his column with his observation that while Private Inglis attempted to add some jollity to the account of his experiences in France, there was definitely more that was lingering in his memory:

“ There was a good deal of humor in the recital of events at the front by the young soldier, but through his narrative always was felt the strain of the unutterable sadness of the young men and old men, one moment gay and the next moment victims of the deadly bullet."