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WITH THE IMMORTAL
SEVENTH DIVISION
By the Rev.
E.J. KENNEDY
Chaplain Major to The Expeditionary Force.
With a Preface by the Right Reverend the
LORD BISHOP OF WINCHESTER
HODDER AND STOUGHTON
LONDON NEW YORK TORONTO
MCMXVI
TO
MY WIFE
AND
HELP-MATE OF MANY YEARS.
PREFACE
This little record bears the impress of the character of its
writer--simple, manly, open-hearted towards man, and devout towards God.
I have read a great part of it with keen interest. Written without
strain, from fresh personal experience, and with great sympathy for the
officers and men of our Army, it gives a very lively picture of a
chaplain's work at the Front, and the scenes and conditions under which
it is done.
Mr. Kennedy's commanding stature, and fine physical manhood, gave him
advantages which his fine character and genial nature used, by God's
grace, to the best effect.
Having known him, and admired him from the time when I admitted him to
Priest's Orders in South London, down to the day when at my request he
addressed our Diocesan Conference upon the challenge given to the Church
by the war, and the claims and needs of the men of our Army returning
from the Front,--a subject on which he glowed with eagerness,--it is a
happiness to me to bespeak for his words an attention which will
certainly be its own reward.
I trust the book may do a little to lessen the loss which (to human
vision) the best interests of our country and her people have suffered
by his early and unexpected death.
EDW. WINTON.
FARNHAM CASTLE,
_November, 1915._
EDITOR'S NOTE
Chaplain Major E.J. Kennedy, the writer of this little book, returned to
his parish of St. John the Evangelist, Boscombe, in September 1915,
having completed his year's service with the Expeditionary Force. Fired
with a deep sense of the need of rousing the Home Church and Land to a
clearer realization of the spiritual needs of 'Our Men' and armed with
the approval of the Archbishop of Canterbury and the approval and
consent of his Diocesan, he determined to spend a certain amount of his
time in the strenuous work of lecturing up and down the country, in
addition to his many parochial duties. Immediately on his return he
plunged into this work, without taking any rest after his arduous
labours at the Front. On Tuesday, October 19, he was lecturing in
Liverpool and Birkenhead. On Wednesday he was taken ill, and on Thursday
he returned home. On the following Monday he succumbed to the disease
which doubtless he contracted at the Front.
In the passing of Major Kennedy the Church and Nation have lost a man
who could ill be spared. So simple in his faith, so fearless and
powerful in his preaching, he was a man who wielded an influence almost
unique in this country. Those who have been benefited by his ministry
are not counted by hundreds but by tens of hundreds. His influence with
the men at the Front was extraordinary. A soldier writes, 'I was awfully
sorry to hear of Mr. Kennedy's death. It came so sudden too. I expect he
would not wish for a better death than dying practically in his
country's cause. He will be greatly missed, his place will not be easily
filled. Unfortunately there are not many men of his stamp in the world.
He was "white" all through, a thing as rare as it is valuable. He was a
real manly Christian gentleman.' This letter is typical of hundreds
which have been received from all parts of the world, including the
Front, so wide and far reaching was the sweep of his influence.
Of him it may be truly said, 'He was God's man.' Many in all schools of
thought and walks of life, as they think of him to-day will
unconsciously say to themselves what the poet has expressed--
"This is the happy warrior, this is he
Whom every man in arms should wish to be."
Well done! thou good and faithful servant.
J.H.
CONTENTS
PAGE
CHAPTER I
THE SEVENTH DIVISION 3
CHAPTER II
THE TREK THROUGH BELGIUM 27
CHAPTER III
THE WELCOME OF A PEOPLE 69
CHAPTER IV
A CHAPTER OF INCIDENTS 79
CHAPTER V
THE FIRST BATTLE OF YPRES 99
CHAPTER VI
CONCERNING OFFICERS AND MEN 121
CHAPTER VII
THE WORK OF A CHAPLAIN IN THE FIELD 139
CHAPTER VIII
THE CARE OF THE WOUNDED 159
CHAPTER IX
WORK AT THE BASE 177
CHAPTER X
A CLOSING WORD 195
THE SEVENTH DIVISION
CHAPTER I
THE SEVENTH DIVISION
'A telegram, sir!' and a mounted orderly who had ridden over from
Larkhill, stood outside my tent at the Bustard's Camp, Salisbury Plain,
at 5 a.m., on September 17, 1914.
In that remote part of the world so removed from the benefits of
ordinary life, we were yet in receipt of our daily papers at that early
hour in the morning, and I was enjoying a twenty-four hours' history of
the world, at the moderate price of a penny, when the brief tones of the
orderly aroused me from its perusal. Its contents were startling: 'You
have been selected for immediate foreign service. Report yourself early
to-morrow morning at the War Office.' For some days past I had been
doing duty with my Territorial Battalion, the 7th Hants; but daily I had
been hoping that I might be able to throw in my lot with the great mass
of men, who had volunteered at the call of King and country.
During the month of August I had been shut up at the Riffel Alp with
some seventy other unfortunates; kicking our heels in enforced ignorance
when we would fain have been near the centre of information, if not of
service. Unable to travel owing to the railways of Switzerland and
France being required for the mobilization of troops, we could only
possess our souls in patience. It was a time never to be forgotten, for
although our English blood was stirred by the rumours that reached us of
an expeditionary force being landed in France, under General Sir John
French, and of even greater significance, the mobilization of the
English Fleet, yet our only source of information was derived from the
Corriere della Sera, the communiqués of which were supplied by the Wolff
Agency. Our state of mind can be readily imagined when I mention such
points of _reliable_ news as the 'Destruction of the English Fleet;
Death of Sir John French; Invasion of England; London taken; Bank of
England in flames.' Of course we knew that this was false, and yet there
was no possibility of rebutting the statements.
For nearly a month we alternated between hope and fear. The effect of
the bright Swiss sunshine would at times render us optimistic, and then
the fall of night would once more see us plunged into the depths of a
helpless pessimism. However, the time came when the little English
colony struggled through the difficulties of railway transport, and
arrived once more in the region of authentic information. The journey
home, which occupied three days, was full of interest, for France was
throbbing with 'la guerre' and 'la gloire'; train after train with
troops bound for the Front, swept by us; while at Lyons we encountered
an ambulance train full of wounded, and another of German prisoners. My
party had the advantage of travelling with the wife and son of a Cabinet
Minister, and through Sir E. Grey's kind solicitude for his colleague's
people, the best possible accommodation was provided for us, but even
that powerful interest was not always sufficient to prevent delay and
discomfort. On reaching Creil, the junction for Belgium, we found the
station full of English troops in their retreat from Mons, and many were
the stirring stories gathered from our retiring, but not disheartened
men. The spirit of the French troops much impressed us; unaccompanied,
my ladies went among them with confidence, and on every hand were
treated with the consideration of gentlemen. I remarked on this to a
French gentleman who was travelling with us, and he said with warranted
pride, 'But they are gentlemen, monsieur.' Some of the wounded French
took the greatest interest in describing to us the circumstances under
which they had been hit,--some, as the manner of soldiers is, displayed
the bullet or piece of shrapnel which had laid them low.
Nearly all the troop trains going to the Front were decorated with
flowers and evergreens, whilst the stations and villages were alive with
enthusiastic people assembled to cheer their men onward to their
glorious and dangerous task.
It was with thankful hearts and very travel-stained persons that we
finally reached home, heartily agreeing after our exciting experiences
that a little goes a long way.
I had at the earliest moment possible volunteered my services to the
Army Chaplains Department, but was informed that there was no prospect
at that time of my being called upon; accordingly I joined my
Territorial Battalion, under Colonel Park, and was awaiting a summons to
service, here, there, or anywhere, when, as I have described, the call
came. I have often wondered why the War Office always springs upon one
with such alarming suddenness; possibly it is the way of the Army; it is
certainly disconcerting, although it is educational, for it teaches one
to be always ready and alert for any emergency.
And now the order had come, and there was hurrying to and fro; a rapid
dash home; a putting together of kit which would be required in the
unknown life about to be entered upon. A last night at home; and then
the reporting of oneself at the War Office; the signing of a contract
for twelve months' service; a medical examination as to physical
fitness; an hour or two's shopping at Harrods (where one developed a
tendency to think of everything not wanted, and to forget what was
really useful); and finally Waterloo Station, that scene of many
farewells. 'Good-bye' has so many significations. It may be uttered at
the parting for a couple of hours; it may be uttered, and often is, in
these days as the final word on earth to much loved ones. Oh, these
partings! how they pull a man's heart to pieces; and yet, with that
remarkable insularity which characterizes our race,--or should I say
races--it is one of the things seldom or never mentioned among men on
service; and yet I suppose it is always uppermost in a man's mind. Again
and and again I have lit upon men in out of the way corners, reading a
well worn letter, or perchance gazing at a photograph, every facial
lineament of which was already well stamped upon the mind of the gazer.
It is one of the mental attitudes which go to form a spirit of
comradeship; the feeling that it is all part of the game, and we are
most of us tarred with the same brush.
I had received my orders at the War Office, to join the Seventh Division
then mobilizing at Lyndhurst.
The Seventh Division! that meant very little to me, and indeed to the
public generally at that time, but what it signified to the nation will
be more fully appreciated when the history of this war is written.
It may be interesting to give particulars of the composition of that,
which I believe is the first Division ever to march out of an English
camp fully equipped.
Under the command of Major-General T. Capper, C.B., D.S.O.,[1] now Sir
Thomson Capper, K.C.M.G., C.B., D.S.O., it represented the very flower
of our Army, possessing a Staff of most capable officers.
It consisted of:--
Divisional Signal Company;
Divisional Mounted troops;
Northumberland Hussars;
Cycle Company;
Four Brigades of Artillery (R.H.A., R.F.A., R.G.A.);
Two Batteries R.G.A.;
Divisional Ammunition Column;
Divisional Engineers, two Field Companies;
20th Infantry Brigade,--
Brig.-General H.G. Ruggles Brise, M.V.O.;
Brigade-Major A.B.E. Cator.
2nd Scots Guards;
1st Grenadier Guards;
2nd Border Regiment;
2nd Gordon Highlanders;
21st Infantry Brigade,--
Brig. H.E. Watts, C.B.;
Brigade-Major Captain W. Drysdale.
2nd Bedford Regiment;
2nd Yorks;
2nd Royal Scots Fusiliers;
2nd Wiltshire Regiment;
22nd Infantry Brigade--
Brig. S.T.B. Lawford;
Brigade-Major Captain G.M. James, The Buffs.
2nd The Queens;
2nd Royal Warwick Regiment;
1st Royal Welsh Fusiliers;
1st South Staffs Regiment.
Divisional Train;
Four Companies Divisional Medical Units;
21st Field Ambulance;
22nd " "
23rd " "
The mobilization of a Division for Active Service is a vast business;
everything has to be thought of and provided; there must be a thorough
equipment for the men, horses, and transport; medical stores, saddlery,
farriery, etc., etc., not a thing must be forgotten, for in those early
days of the war there was no well-equipped Ordnance Department on the
other side. Each Field Ambulance is a dispensary on wheels, comprising
the hundred and one field comforts which warfare rightly provides for
the lamentable wrecks that pass through the hands of the R.A.M.C.
The question of horses is no slight undertaking, and certainly gives
rise to no little heartburning, as every mounted officer naturally tries
to secure a good mount. To me it was a specially serious matter; when a
man walks 15.8 and rides another two stone at least, considerable care
has to be exercised in the selection of his equine friend, who has to
bear with him the fatigues, trials and risks of a campaign. I shall ever
feel the deepest obligation to Captain Kennedy Shaw, O.C., Remounts
Department, Salisbury, for supplying me with one of the best horses I
have ever ridden; a big upstanding bay, with black points; deep chested;
good quarters; with the most perfect manners, even under the heaviest
fire, which could be desired. Strangely enough his name (which was tied
to his halter) was 'Ora Pro Nobis,' a not inapt cognomen for a padré's
horse. He must have come out of a good stable, and I often felt that
someone must have hoped that he would fall into good hands. Should this
by any chance be read by the owner, let me say that both my groom and I
took the greatest care of my good steed until the day when German
shrapnel ushered him into 'the eternal hayfield.'
They were happy days at Lyndhurst, where the Division remained for a
fortnight. The future stress of awful losses was only a bare possibility
then, although it was on the horizon of many men's hearts; but at the
time it was ignored, for many of the officers had their women folk
staying, either in the village, or near at hand; and the lawn of the
'Crown,' the Divisional Head-quarters, was a bright and happy centre of
pleasurable intercourse.
It was a strange experience to be ushered into the very vortex of a
soldier's life, although my experience of military camp life was not a
new one; in far back years happy service in a kilted regiment had left a
mark which time has not effaced.
A very cordial reception from General Capper set me at my ease; whilst
Brig.-General Ruggles Brise, to whose Brigade I was attached, and to
whose kindness and courtesy I owe much, assured me of the good will of
the powers that be. The General posted me to the 20th Brigade--a noble
appointment indeed; for such troops as the Grenadier Guards, Scots
Guards, Gordon Highlanders and Border Regiment were good enough for any
man.
The Parade Services I held while at Lyndhurst were an inspiration. The
prayer card issued by the Chaplain-General was greatly appreciated by
officers and men. I arranged for the distribution of 15,000 of them in
the Division, and they were eagerly accepted by all from the Generals
downwards. On many an occasion in the after days I came across these
cards tucked away in the lining of the caps of dead and wounded men.
Nothing can exceed the beautiful simplicity of the prayer, a copy of
which I venture to insert:--
A SOLDIER'S PRAYER.
Almighty and most Merciful Father,
Forgive me my sins:
Grant me thy peace:
Give me thy power:
Bless me in life and death,
For Jesus Christ's sake.
Amen.
(On the reverse side.)
Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy Name. Thy
kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth, As it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our
trespasses, As we forgive them that trespass against us. And
lead us not into temptation; But deliver us from evil: For
thine is the kingdom, The power, and the glory, For ever and
ever.
Amen.
The other Chaplains of the Division were:--
Church of England: The Rev. Hon. T. George Maurice Peel, 21st
Brigade.
Presbyterian: The Rev. W. Stevenson Jaffray.
Roman Catholic: The Rev. Father Moth.
It was on October 4 when my wife, daughter and myself were about to
take tea with Captain Douglas of the Staff--alas! now dead--and his
wife, that he hurriedly rode out of the 'Crown' saying, 'The order has
come to stand by.' The news was welcome, for we were growing weary of
waiting. Immediately the troops began to move off; the unit to which I
was attached--23rd Field Ambulance which served the 20th Brigade--left
at 2.45 a.m., reaching Southampton about six. It is of interest to note
that a Division of troops of over 15,000 men makes a brave show upon the
road, its length from the van to the rear being not less than twelve
miles.
Apparently the cheering folk along the road passed a sleepless night,
for at every hamlet and village people lined the road, waving us their
farewells; and from many a cottage window kindly faces could be seen
silhouetted against the light of the room, cheering us onward with
hearty words.
The embarkation at Southampton was a busy scene, and took many hours to
accomplish, but finally fourteen huge transports got under way, and
steamed up Channel for Dover. There we 'stood off and on' until 9 p.m.
on October 6, when picking up our pilot we steamed out into the Down in
the quiet of the autumn night.
The names of the officers who composed the mess of the 23rd Field
Ambulance were: Major Crawford (now Lieut.-Colonel), Major Brown,
Captain Wright, Lieut. McCutcheon, Lieut. Mackay, Lieut. Hart, Lieut.
Priestly, Lieut. Wedd, Lieut. Beaumont, Lieut. Jackson (quartermaster),
Col. the Rev. W. Stevenson Jaffray, and the writer; on the whole a very
cheery, hard-working set of officers, whose work met with high
appreciation of Head-quarters, in due course.
Many conjectures were on foot as to our destination, but when we found
the course was north-east, we knew that France was out of the question,
and Belgium loomed large in our imagination.
The scene was an eerie one as the black hulls of the vessels moved
quietly over the placid sea, with a protective squadron of torpedo
destroyers surrounding us. It was sufficiently risky to give a piquance
to the experience.
The Admiralty had laid mines from the Goodwin Sands to the Belgium
coast, and it was a remarkable feat of pilotage which took the whole
fleet through this mine zone in safety to its destination. The naval
officer who acted as pilot to the _Victorian_, on which I was aboard,
informed me the next morning that it had been the most anxious night of
his life, and I can well understand it, for the responsibility upon a
man, under such circumstances, was a heavy one.
Coming on deck in the early hours of the following morning I saw the
low-lying Belgium coast bathed in sunlight; Zeebrugge lying a couple of
miles to the east. It was with a very thankful heart that I realized
that the first risky stage of our movement towards the Front was over.
In due course we warped in alongside of the massive Mole at Zeebrugge;
and admired the huge proportions of a quay, which I understood had been
built by the Germans. Large as it was, there was not sufficient room for
all the fleet of transports, so half the Division landed at Ostend and
joined us later.
The landing scene was stirring, and full of interest. All sorts of
troops were mixed together in apparently inextricable confusion;
Guardsmen, Highlanders, Linesmen, Sappers, Gunners, Cavalry and the
ubiquitous A.S.C. were moving about in the keen delight of being on the
soil that they had come to free from the oppressor; but the miracle of
military order and discipline soon evolved order out of chaos; and the
whole column moved off for its nine or ten mile trek to Bruges.
With elastic step and cheery voice the men swung along to the inspiring
strains of 'Tipperary.' The road was typical of Belgium; the long avenue
of poplar trees, flanked by broad ditches, being the distinguishing
feature of this and most Belgium roads (the centre being composed of
cobbles, with macadam tracks on either side). Every one felt keen, and
the horses, fresh from forty-eight hours' confinement in their very
close quarters between decks, enjoyed the freedom as much as the men.
On reaching Bruges, which was in total darkness, owing to the fear of
enemy aeroplanes, we received our instructions to proceed to an outlying
suburb of the city; and presently drew up in a field, bounded by houses
of the humbler description. The early morning was distinctly autumnal,
and a ration of biscuit, bully beef and steaming hot tea was not to be
despised. Late though it was, many people were about, occupying
themselves by gazing, half in wonderment and half in admiration, at the
first visit of khaki to their neighbourhood.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] This brilliant officer was killed in action at the end of September,
1915.
THE TREK THROUGH BELGIUM