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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