Rushden Gunner on Leave
Mr. Ray Robinson of the Motor Machine Gun Section
Meeting with Rushden Steelbacks - How The Seventh Northamptons Fought

Gunner Ray Robinson (Rushden), of the Motor Machine Gun Service, son of Mr. and Mrs. S. Robinson, of 27 Hayway, is again home on seven days’ leave. He arrived in Rushden on Sunday morning after three days without any sleep, and was obliged to walk from Wellingborough to his home. He reached his parents’ house at 7 a.m. on Sunday, and gave them a surprise, as he was not expected; in fact, he himself did not know he was to have leave until about an hour before he left for home.

Interviewed by a representative of the “Rushden Echo,” he said:

“Since I was at home in August last I have been through some more exciting experiences, although not so lively as those I told you of when I was last at home. However, soon after I got back after my first leave we took part in the attack at Loos, and this was one of the hottest battles I have been in since I have been at the front.

“While we were standing to, waiting to go up to reinforce the attack, I was surprised to see the 7th Northants Battalion march up, as I did not know they were out there. They told us they had had a three weeks’ forced march up from the coast, and as in joining us they came immediately under shell fire they had a pretty warm breaking in, and it is not often that a fresh regiment is shoved straight into the attack. There was some stuff flying about that day, I can tell you, but considering it was their first experience under fire, they stuck it well and I felt proud of the men of my own county. All the battalions of the County Regiment have a very good name out there, and they deserve it.

“Amongst the 7th Northamptons I saw and spoke to many Rushden fellows. The first man I spoke to was Pte. Brittain, who, as you have reported in the “Rushden Echo,” was taken prisoner that same day. I also saw and spoke to Bert Taylor, and I saw several other chaps I knew by sight.

“Well, to return to the battle, we followed the 7th Northants into action and took up a position on their right. We got into the fire trenches just in time to receive a counter-attack from the Germans, and that was when the 7th Northants got so badly cut up, I am sorry to say. The Germans advanced against us in greatly superior numbers, and succeeded in retaking a small portion of the trenches we had captured from them, but the bulk of the ground we had taken we retained, although the Germans made repeated attempts for two days to regain the ground they had lost, and we were hard at it all the time, eventually repulsing the enemy’s attack.

“The 7th had many casualties, I am sorry to say, and a good many were taken prisoner. I am pleased to say, however, that the Germans must have suffered as heavily, as their dead literally covered the ground. Our battery did good work with the guns in the counter-attack, and accounted for a good few of the enemy. After three of the roughest days we have had since we have been out there, our division was relieved, and we were glad to get back to billets where we remained for two weeks’ rest.

“Since then we have had a fairly easy time, as we have been principally engaged in making machine gun positions up the line, although we have put in one or two odd days in the trenches. It is not a pleasant job making new gun positions as you are under shell fire nearly all the time. Last Wednesday, when our division was relieved for a rest, the enemy must have known that we were moving out as they subjected us to a stiff bombardment, shelling the roads behind the line and doing a fair bit of damage. A high explosive shell dropped through the top of a Ford ambulance car, and the driver and two wounded chaps inside were blown to pieces. The car itself was reduced to twisted iron and splinters. I am glad to say that my battery got out without any casualties, and are now enjoying a fortnight’s rest about 30 miles behind the firing line and well out of reach of the enemy’s guns. Even so far back as that though you can hear the reports of the guns, and it is a constant reminder of what is going on.

“When I left, the conditions, so far as the weather was concerned, were pretty bad. The land in some places is under water, and as for the trenches they are knee deep in mud and water.”

Rushden Naval Stoker - Home On Short Leave
Narrow Escape from a German Submarine
British Vessel Sinks U 29 - Enemy Crew Drowned

Stoker C Lawrence

Dvr Lawrence

During the work in which his ship has been engaged, he has covered many thousands of miles but has not so far been in action. They have had considerable trouble, however, from enemy submarines, and one very narrow escape when they were subjected to a torpedo attack. The deadly missile passed within 20 feet of the ships stern but the enemy submarine fired no more, as immediately afterwards she was rammed by one of the other ships of the British Fleet.

The enemy submarine that was sunk was the U 29, one of German’s latest craft. So far as Stoker Lawrence knows, all her crew went down with her; at any rate, if any escaped he considers they were very lucky, as it was a very cold day and the water must have been ice cold.

The nature of Stoker Lawrence’s work precludes him from seeing much that is going on. The only men that do get a chance of seeing anything are the men in control of the ship and those at the gun stations.

The men of the British Navy are, he says, getting impatient at not being offered the opportunity of a brush with the enemy, but there will be a pretty heavy day of reckoning when it does come. There is great excitement when they think there is a chance of something coming off, but always the same reply, “Nothing doing.” Stoker Lawrence desires us to emphasis the fact that the Navy is in need of men as well as the army, and he would like to see more Rushden men in suits of blue. It is a fine healthy life, in his opinion, and offers good prospects for any young fellow fond of adventure. Both of the ships to which Stoker Lawrence was formerly attached viz., the Irresistible and Apollo, have been sunk, the former in the Dardenelles and the latter unknown.

Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence have another son serving his country, viz., Driver A. Lawrence, of the Mechanical Transport, A.S.C. he is at present at Cairo, Egypt, and is quite well and happy.

A Christmas Day Treat
British Aviator Looping The Loop - Above The German Trenches
Rushden Soldier Witnesses Remarkable Spectacle
Bombarded by “Weeping Shells” - Millions of Rats

L/Corpl. W. A. Stock

Interviewed by a representative of the “Rushden Echo” he said:

“I landed in France with my battalion on July 27th 1915, and after a night in a rest camp we were sent up country to Northern France by train, but it was a terribly slow and uncomfortable journey. We were nine hours in the train, and were very glad to get out. We disembarked in the early morning, and then had a few hours’ march to our billets about ten miles behind the firing line. For a fortnight after that we were kept in continuous training, marching, bayonet drill, etc., and then for four days we were sent into the firing line with another regiment for instruction. The weather then was A1, and we had a very easy time, although we were under fire, but the intensity of the fire then was nothing to what it is now, as it grows worse every day. Those four days were a holiday in comparison with what we have to put up with now. We were sent back to billets for a week or so, and then returned to some trenches about three or four miles to the left of those we first occupied. This time we were on our own, and the enemy parapets were from 30 to 100 yards from ours. We found this position very uncomfortable, as mines were sent up every night, either by us or by the enemy, and we have suffered very heavily since we have been in this position, considering that we have not up to the present taken part in any advance. We are still in the same sector, although we have moved about a mile to the left of our original position, and we are further away from the German trenches, but quite close enough to be comfortable, as we are getting plenty of shell fire.

“I have had one or two near shaves. One day, about two months ago, when we were repairing parapets, the Germans discovered the working party I was with, and gave us plenty of rifle grenades and whiz-bangs, and one of the latter burst three yards away from me. I got smothered with dirt, but as I happened to be in the trench then I managed to duck my head in time and escape any wounds.

“I have had several other narrow escapes but I have never had a shell drop nearer to me than that one, although I have had some close shaves from shrapnel from the German high explosive shells. If these burst within fifty yards of you, you are liable to get it in the neck, and on more than one occasion fragments have passed quite close to my body, but I am glad to say I have not been hit.

“For the past month or two things have been very hot, and seem to be getting worse every day. On Christmas Eve we went into the trenches, and for the first four days my company was in reserve. A few shells were sent over by both sides, but there was nothing in the nature of a Christmas truce this time such as I have read about in the papers as occurring last Christmas. If the Germans had shown themselves no doubt they would have had a warm reception. On Sunday (Boxing Day) our artillery were bombarding a village in the German lines all day long, and as we were in the reserve trenches and on the high ground we had a very good view of the effect of our fire. We saw houses and trees blown up in the air and it was one of the finest and yet most terrible sights I have seen since I have been out there. Our artillery sent some very heavy stuff over and you could actually see the shells as they flew through the air. Our chaps call these shells “Lloyd George’s Specials.”

“The Germans on that day made no reply whatever, and they must have suffered heavily. That same morning about 15 of our aeroplanes passed over our trenches, evidently bent on an air raid somewhere or other. They returned in the afternoon, and none were missing. I don’t know where they had been, but they never go out for nothing, as they are doing some marvellous work out there.

“To return to Christmas Day we had rather a treat. One of our aviators flew over the German lines, and looped the loop three times. They put a shell or two at him, but it is practically a million to one chance of a shell hitting an aeroplane, as they can soon alter their direction or get out of range. I don’t know what his object was in doing this hair-raising feat unless it was for sheer devilry or a wager, but our aviators seem afraid of nothing, and, in my opinion, are top dogs over the Germans.

“On one occasion I saw an exciting duel between a British and German aeroplane. It only lasted a minute or two, both firing rapidly with machine guns, and all of a sudden we saw the German aeroplane fall. I believe the German fell in his own lines, as we were in billets and a mile or two from the firing line at the time. As soon as our aviator had finished his work he flew back to our lines.

“Last Thursday afternoon we had one of our worst experiences since we have been out there. The Germans bombarded us with weeping shells, which when they explode send out gas, it is awful stuff and smells horrible. It hangs about for days. I don’t think it is the same kind of gas that they have used before, as you can’t see it, but it makes you cough horribly, and you can’t help crying. It made me cry like a child as it did several others.

“As soon as we discovered what they were sending over we lost no time in getting our smoke helmets and goggles on, and although we were all affected by it, none of us got a very bad dose, at any rate, not bad enough to send any of us into hospital. However, I had as much as I wanted, and it made me feel bad for two or three days, and I haven’t yet got rid of the effects.

“For the rest of the time in the trenches things went on about as usual, but they sent hundreds of shells over that night, and on our left I could see their ‘Sausages’ as we call them, coming through the air several to the minute. It looked like a firework display, but did terrible damage to our trenches, knocking the parapets flat. However, considering the quantity of stuff they sent over, our casualties were small, although at Christmas time we suffered heavier than before. The trenches are in an awful state owing to the heavy rains we have had during the past month, especially the communication trenches. The mud and water comes up to your waist in places, in fact right above our trench waders, and this makes it very uncomfortable getting in and out.

“We are also infested with millions of rats, and these are an infernal nuisance, as they eat our rations, and gnaw our equipment to pieces. They have eaten my haversack to pieces, and you can never keep your eye on rations, especially the biscuits – they always make a mark of them.

“The men in the trenches often have a rat hunt, and manage to kill a good number, but they don’t appear to get any less. The rats are a tremendous size, bigger than I have ever seen before.

“It was last Saturday night that I was warned for leave. We came out of the trenches on Sunday and I left my billet on Monday night for a rest camp which was close to the station. I got into the train about 9.30 a.m. on Tuesday for Havre, and leaving there about midnight arriving at Southampton about 8 a.m. yesterday. I came straight through and reached Rushden at 2.9 yesterday afternoon, and was met at the station by my wife and father, as at St. Pancras I had wired them that I was on my way home. Apart from this they didn’t know I was coming.”

Lance-Corporal Stock enlisted on Sept. 3, 1914, and prior to that he had had four years’ service in the 4th Northants Territorials. He completed his service with the Terriers a year before the outbreak of war. He was formerly an employee of Mr. John Clark, working in the clicking room.

Not So Bad – Rushden Soldier in the Trenches
Mrs. W. J. Frisby, of Victoria-road, Rushden, has received a further letter from her son, Bombardier Robert Frisby, R.F.A., in which he says:

“I am up at the trenches for a week and I have done three nights out of it. I saw a Rushden chap in the Northants the other day up here. His name is Clark and he lives in Robert-street. I also saw, while I was going out into the trenches a chap named Rollins (Wellingborough-road). He is also in the Steelbacks and he was just coming out. Don’t worry your head about me being in the trenches, as I am quite all right, I can assure you. We had rather a rough night the first night. Three of the Gloucesters got knocked out the first night and they were on fatigue like us, and they were next to us along the trench. They had to bring them by us, but I am sorry to say all three were dead. We come out of the trenches each night and go about two miles back and we are in billets then. The sergeant and myself have a room to ourselves and a bed each and we have our meals separate. We generally get back to our billets by 12 o’clock and we have all the next day until 6.15 again before we go up, so taking everything into consideration it is not so bad.”

Rushden Soldier in Belgium
The Canadian Contingent - Heavy Casualties
Gunner J. Walker (Rushden), with the Canadians, writing from Belgium to his father at Rushden says:-
"We get a bit of sunshine once in a while, but we still get the rain too– like today. It is raining like the –, then maybe tomorrow the sun will shine again. I am very sorry to that dear old John Spencer got killed in action. This is an awful war, the – Canadian and – Canadian Contingents have lost in five weeks 7,000 men in action. The – Brigade, which I used to belong to, got cut up awfully, but the – Battery were mentioned in despatches last week. I am going in the gun pits tomorrow to see the boys again, but few there are left, and, believe me, there are not many who joined in Winnipeg when I did. Some of the – Canadians are over here. "

Frostbitten In Gallipoli - Rushden Soldier Home on Leave
Pte. T. A. Pettitt’s Experiences in the Dardanelles
How Leonard Helsdown Met his Death

Pte. T. A. Pettitt, 4th Northants Regt., son of Mr. Thomas Pettitt, of Washbrook-road, Rushden, has been spending a few days at home after passing through the Dardanelles campaign. Pte. Pettitt joined the Army on March 1st, 1915, prior to which he worked for the Coxton Shoe Co., Rushden. In September, 1915, he went to the Dardanelles, where he saw a good deal of trench warfare, though he took no part in bayonet fighting. Interviewed by a representative of the “Rushden Echo,” he described the terrible storm of Nov. 26th last year on the Gallipoli Peninsula, and said that a fearful blizzard swept all over the country, followed the next day by frost and snow. He was at this time in the trenches, which were half filled with water and mud. A large number of the soldiers, he said, suffered from frostbite, himself among the number.

“The Turks,” he said, corroborating what other soldiers had told us, “are quite clean fighters, as far as I could see, and I saw no cases of brutality.

“I first entered the trenches on the first Sunday in October, 1915. It was a beautiful day when we went in, but as we were under fire from the Turkish batteries we did not get much chance to appreciate the lovely weather. We soon got our first bit of excitement as we had been in the trenches but two hours when the Turks blew up a mine about ten yards in front of our trenches. This, I am sorry to say, resulted in the loss of one life, viz, young Leonard (Triffin) Helsdown, of Cromwell-road, Rushden.

“Fortunately, I was in the reserve trenches at the time, so was not in the immediate danger zone. It was about one hour after the mine had been sent up that we heard who had been killed, although we had heard previously that the regiment had lost one man. I had seen and spoken to young Helsdown in the afternoon of the day before he was killed. He went to the Dardanelles some time before I did, and he was surprised to see me out there.

“During our conversation he gave me some good advice, and warned me to keep my head down whenever I was in the trenches. He little thought, poor chap, that the next day he would fall victim to the Turkish guns. When I heard of his death it upset me at the time, but after a few weeks in the firing line one gets used to hearing of the loss of one’s comrades. He was buried in a soldiers’ cemetery at the back of the lines, and a wooden cross, bearing his name and that of his regiment, was placed over his grave. I was not able to attend his funeral, as I was in the firing line at the time he was buried.

“Immediately after the mine went up the enemy sent over a perfect hail of shrapnel, and much of it came over the first line and into the reserve trenches, where I was.

“Bullets spattered all round us, but we kept well down and I am pleased to say that I came through all right. One of our chaps, however, was slightly wounded. It is a horrible feeling one gets the first time under fire, but you soon get used to it, as to everything else.

“On the following day we moved from the reserve trenches into the firing line, and we remained there five days, during which time the enemy were fairly quiet, making no direct attack, although they sent over a few whizz-bangs, which kept us pretty lively and accounted for two of my comrades.

“We were backwards and forwards between the reserve trenches and the first line in five day stretches, until Dec 9th, when we came out of the trenches. Two days later I left the battalion, as my feet were badly frost bitten, and I entered the casualty clearing station, afterwards being removed on H.M.H.S. Gloucester Castle to Alexandria, where I was kept in hospital for two months.

“When the blood again started to circulate in my feet I suffered much pain. It was worst in the mornings, for about two hours after I woke. It was seven weeks before I could leave my bed, and when I first attempted to walk I found it a bit of a job, and a painful undertaking. At the end of two months I was recommended for Class C, which meant that I was to be sent home to England, and that did me more good than all the treatment I had received at the hospital, although the doctors and nurses treated me very kindly. I started for England on Jan 20th, on board the H.M.H.S. Brittanic, and after a fortnight’s voyage in rather rough weather, during which I experienced one day’s sea sickness, I landed at Southampton on Feb 3rd. I then had a week in hospital at Brockenhurst, near Bournemouth, was then discharged on sick leave, and came to Rushden for ten days. I re-joined the regiment at Tring on Feb 25th this year, since which time I have been again under training. I expect to be sent to the front again shortly.”

Rushden Sailor - In The Great Sea Fight
Germans Have a Rough Time - Still Rougher Time in Store for Them
Stoker William Knight, of H.M.S. Tiger, son of Mrs. A. Dickens, 162, Cromwell-road, Rushden, arrived home safely and unexpectedly on Wednesday, after having passed all through the recent great naval battle in the North Sea. He has with him a comrade, viz., Stoker J. Witherington, of Carlisle, who is on the same ship, and who also has come through unscathed.

Both men were together below decks throughout the whole of the engagement, which lasted for five hours, and by the time the battle was finished they had been in the boiler room for 24 hours on end.

Interviewed by a representative of the “Rushden Echo,” Stoker Witherington said: “We sighted the enemy fleet about 4 p.m. and were at once ordered to quarters. The first shot from our ship was fired at the enemy about 4.40 p.m., and after that the guns were continuously firing for five hours. So far as I am concerned I cannot say if we accounted for any of the enemy ships, but comrades who were above deck say that we gave a good account of our selves, and I think we have earned our few days’ leave which we are now enjoying.

“We chaps, although we were below and could not see anything, felt the vibration of our vessel as her guns were fired, and we also felt the shock of the enemy shells as they struck our armour plate. One such shell burst right for’ard on the stokers mess deck, and blew up our lockers and left us with no clothes beyond those we had on. These clothes I am wearing now I have had to borrow to wear during my leave.

Another shell, a gas shell, dropped aft near the magazine and killed about half a dozen men that were engaged supplying the guns. Afterwards I saw the sickening sight of parts of their bodies lying about the ammunition passage. One chap’s head had been blown off and had lodged on top of an electric globe on the bulkhead where I saw it. This shell that dropped near the magazine was a narrow escape for the ship, but in less than two minutes a stoker’s fire party was on the scene, and had flooded the magazine, thus giving no chance for fire to break out. Several of the fire party I have mentioned were gassed by the fumes from the shell.

“Another shell struck us for’ard through the stokers’ mess deck, and passed through our armour plate just about the water line, with the result that the stokers’ mess deck was flooded. Floating about on the water were about 50 stokers’ kit bags. When we came on deck after the battle we found that shells had passed through all the funnels and one had ripped open the battery deck. The fore-castle – our mess deck – was absolutely riddled with holes. The dead, which numbered 25, were laid out along the deck, covered with hammocks. We buried them at sea on the day following the battle.

“There is no doubt whatever in my own mind that we gave the Germans a rough time of it, and the balance of advantage was decidedly on our side.

“They will get it worse next time we drop across them. Right throughout the battle their ships were covered in mist, and we could only get a slap at them as we saw the flash of their guns. Our ships, on the other hand, were in full light, and must have been clearly visible to the enemy, making lovely targets. However, they did not stop to fight it out, as when they saw that they were getting ‘screwed down’ they ‘nipped,’ closely followed by our battle cruiser squadron.

H.M.S. Tiger was in action on Jan. 24, 1915, in the battle off the Dogger Bank, when she played a substantial part in the sinking of the Blucher. On that occasion she did not, we understand, receive a quarter of the damage she sustained last week.

Ambushed by The Germans
Rushden Man’s Terrible Experience - His Horse Shot Under Him
Corpl. H. E. Silburn - The Only One of His Squadron to Return
An Interesting Romance
Corpl H. E. Silburn (Rushden), of the 15th Hussars, who, as reported in our last issue, has been in hospital with pneumonia, is now home on sick leave, and is staying for ten days with his parents, Mr. and Mrs. R. E. Silburn, of 198 Wellingborough-road, Rushden.

He has been on the western front since August 16, 1914, and it will be remembered, as reported in the “Rushden Echo” that he was the only one of his squadron to return after a glorious cavalry charge during the battle of Mons. His horse was shot from under him, and he returned on foot to the British lines. Interviewed by a representative of the “Rushden Echo” he said:

“This charge took place in a village about a mile and a half from Mons. We had received orders to reconnoitre this village, and the advance party came back and reported ‘Germans.’ The squadron leader, who was then in charge (Lieut. Whittle) formed the squadron up in column of half sections, and we charged through the village with drawn swords. The Germans at that time were entrenched in the village, and although we drove some of them before us, we suddenly found ourselves ambushed, and there was nothing for it but to attempt to fight our way out. It was a case of every man for himself, as the Germans were pouring a hot machine gun fire into our ranks, and the road quickly became blocked with men and horses. Suddenly I felt my horse collapse under me, and I fell with him, but I was quickly on my feet and uninjured.

“I saw that he was done and made my way back through the village on foot the best way I could, being under fire all the time. It was night time before I got back to our lines, and it wasn’t until then that I discovered that I was the only one of my squadron to return, the others having been either killed, wounded, or taken prisoner. Lieut. Whittle, who led the charge, was the first one to fall.

“I participated in the retreat from Mons to within ten kilometres of Paris, and was kept busy the whole of this time, as the cavalry were called upon to cover the retreat of the infantry. It was nothing but rear-guard actions for us the whole of the time and we were practically the last to leave each place.

“When the advance began we were called upon to undertake patrol and reconnaissance work in front of our advancing troops, and that proved one of the most trying times I have experienced since I have been out there. Subsequently we reached Marne, and after the big battle there we again advanced. During the advance Pte. Sharp, of Harborough-road, Rushden was shot in the knee. We were on patrol together at the time. Fortunately it was not a very serious wound, and he was able to ride to the dressing station himself.

“The next encounter was at the Aisne, and we were the first people to get there. We remained there about a week and then participated in a well-thought-out move. The Germans had got wind, through our design, that we were a new force landing at Calais, and made an attempt to outflank us, but we played the same game. The scheme was continued until we reached Ypres. This was about October, 1914, and things at that time were in the balance. Every man, cavalryman or infantryman, who could handle a rifle was in the trenches, and with a single line we succeeded in holding back the enemy. It was there that we cut up the flower of the German army, the Prussian Guards.

“After a spell of about two months on this front the French relieved us and we moved back for a rest. We were kept around the Ypres district on and off until about April, 1915, when we again moved to a place called Kemel. All the winter we had been in and out of the trenches just the same as infantry.

In May the Germans subjected us to our first gas attack. We were in billets at the time in a convent in Ypres, and at about three o’clock in the morning the Germans gassed us out of it. We had a few casualties, and then received orders to re-enforce the first line. We advanced under heavy shell fire and when we reached the first line we found the 9th Lancers had been almost cut up, but we arrived just in the nick of time. The Germans had broken through our first line on the left of Hooge and were coming through in hundreds. We were absolutely surrounded and our chaps were getting rid of souvenirs they had collected from Germans, expecting to be taken prisoner. We were actually at one time firing back to back as the enemy were all round us. Just as we had begun to think all was lost we were re-inforced by the Buffs, and the enemy were driven back to their own trenches.

“It was during this encounter that Capt. Grenfell, V.C., of the 9th Lancers, was killed. He died bravely, encouraging the men. He stood on the top of the parapet and shouted ‘It’s all right, men. It’s only a few bally Huns that have broken through.’ The next minute he fell dead with a bullet in the brain. After that encounter we were again sent back for a rest, which consisted of hard cavalry training, in preparation for the Loos operation.

“At Loos four divisions of cavalry were concentrated behind the line, as we expected the infantry to break the enemy line to allow us to pass through. As it happened, however, the operation was not the success it should have been, and we were not called upon as we expected, although we were given plenty of work repairing the broken trenches and burying the dead. Since then nothing very serious has happened, and we took the horses down to a place near Boulogne, as we had no further use for them. Since that time we have become practically infantry, as we take our turns in and out of the trenches.

“It was when coming out of the trenches in March this year that I fell sick with pneumonia, and was sent into hospital at Boulogne, where I remained three weeks. on March 19th I was sent to England and entered the Red Cross Hospital at Northiam, Sussex, where I was kept until Wednesday this week. I then came straight home.”

Corpl Silburn, whilst billeted near Boulogne just prior to his illness, met became engaged to a French young lady, to whom he expects shortly to be married. He was billeted on a farm adjacent to her parent’s property, and he came to meet her through her acting as interpreter to the regiment. She speaks English fluently, being a certified teacher, having previously been a teacher of French in an English convent. After her marriage she will settle in Rushden, and hopes to resume her scholastic duties as a private teacher.

Rushden Soldier Dodging Whiz-Bangs
Band Concert at The Front - Germans Jealous of British Musical Talent
Life with the Trench Mortars
Mrs Herbert Willmott, of 3 East-grove, Rushden, has received an interesting letter from her son, Gunner Frank Willmott 14th Brigade, Royal Horse Artillery, B.E.F., in which he says:

“It has been something like old times these last few nights. We have had an infantry band playing in the camp and it made me think of the Recreation Ground on a Sunday afternoon. It is a very good band, and I think the Germans got a bit jealous of it, because they dropped a couple of ‘whiz-bangs’ over, but they went in the next field, so there was no damage done.

“I have joined the trench mortars, which I volunteered for. The people think the artillery don’t have to go into the trenches, but I used to go up when I was in the ‘column’ – well, not in the trenches exactly, but just behind in a more dangerous position. We have been up the front five days digging, and the fourth night we were finishing off and just packing up to come home when we got ‘strafed,’ and what with having to lie flat down in the mud and crawl about in it, it wasn’t very pleasant, but we all got back quite safely. I wouldn’t say anything about it, but people think we chaps are right behind the first line all the time and don’t go into danger.”

In a letter to his sister on the same day Gunner Willmott says:

“We still play football out here. I was in the column team when I came away from the R.H.A., and now I’m in this artillery team. We were playing in the divisional cup in the R.H.A., and we had won two matches.

“We are having a fine time since we came here. The first three days we had something to do all day long. All we have to do now is to go up to the trenches at night and work for about six hours. We start as soon as it gets dark and work until about half-past one in the morning; then we’ve done until night comes again, but it is hard work while we are at it with plenty of risk, but I guess we don’t mind that. We have great fun when we are “strafed.” You may say “there isn’t much fun in that,” but it makes one laugh to see another fellow diving for cover.”

Gunner Willmott enlisted on the 28th of September, 1915, at the age of 19, in the Royal Field Artillery, being subsequently transferred to the R.H.A. He went out to France with his column on February, 1916. He has received the “Rushden Echo” every week since he has been there and said in a previous letter that his chums and himself looked forward to it every week.

Rushden Man - In Three Campaigns
Most Exciting in France - German Aeroplane Stop Church Parade
Corpl R. Hyde (Rushden), of the South African Infantry, son of Dr. and Mrs. Hyde, of Rushden House Cottages, has been at home on seven days’ leave, after having participated in three campaigns, viz., German South West Africa, under the command of General Botha, Egypt (the Senussi campaign), and now the western front.

He enlisted in South Africa on September 8th, 1914, so, altogether, has seen over eighteen months active service.

Interviewed by a representative of the “Rushden Echo,” he said: “My first experience of warfare was child’s play compared to what I am now undergoing. In Africa and Egypt it was more hard work than anything else, long marches principally.

“In German West Africa we did some terrific marches, but saw no scrapping. That was left entirely to the mounted men, who finished up the job in a thorough fashion. Although we didn’t get a chance of a direct brush with the enemy, we were on several occasions bombed by enemy aeroplanes and suffered some casualties through this cause. One day we had a gun team knocked out, a bomb from a Taube falling in the midst of them. Two were killed and three injured. The Germans used to play this game every Sunday as regular as clockwork, very often getting us off church parade, which some of the chaps didn’t grumble at. After Christmas our aviators got to work and we saw very little of the German machines then, and it wasn’t long before they were all accounted for, one being brought down and the other two captured.

“It was about the end of July last year that we cleaned the slate up in German South West Africa, and I than volunteered for the overseas contingent.

“After being stationed at Bordon for about two months, we were sent to Alexandria, and after about a week there were shipped in lighters to a place called Mersametruh. From there we set out on a 150 miles march to Solum. We were about 12 days getting there, and it was a very stiff march, what with the warm weather and scarcity of water. This was practically all desert marching, and it is not like marching on made up roads. You can’t do more than about two miles an hour.

“On the sixth day of the march we came into contact with the enemy – Arabs officered by Turks, and had a very sharp three hours’ battle, in which we came out on top, although we suffered upwards of 150 casualties. It was here that my brother, Corpl J. Hyde, received a scalp wound from a sniper’s bullet, which sent him into hospital for a month. It was here also that the Yeomanry did some very good work, taking prisoner two or three highly placed Turkish officers and some Arabs. This was of course the much talked of battle of Agagia, in which we are reported to have given such a good account of ourselves. At any rate, it was very hot whilst it lasted, and I for one thought myself very lucky to get out of it alive. We were under very heavy rifle and machine gun fire, with no cover, except bush, which effectively concealed us from the enemy. After this scrap we managed to complete the march without further contact with the enemy.

“After three weeks’ garrison duty at Solum we were sent back to Alexandria, the journey on this occasion being undertaken by water, which was a welcome manner of travelling after our former experience. After four days at Alexandria I was sent with the regiment to Marseilles, and from thence we were sent up to the theatre of war, but did not enter the firing line until ten days after our arrival in France.

“It is on the present front where I have had my most exciting experiences, although our part of the line is fairly quiet as comparisons go. Since we landed in France we have only had altogether about three weeks in the trenches, and when I came away on leave the regiment was ‘resting.’ I have been very fortunate so far in having come through uninjured and I hope my luck may continue.”

Rushden Soldier Wounded - Making Barbed Wire Entanglements
A Nerve-Racking Job - The Value of V.T.C. Training
Sapper T. H. Wood (Rushden) of the East Anglian Field Company, Royal Engineers, who was wounded on April 25th, is now at home on sick leave after seven weeks in hospital at Stourbridge and Evesham.

One of the first members of the Rushden Volunteer Corps, he enlisted in the regular forces in August, 1915, and went to the front at the beginning of March this year. He had been on the western front about eight weeks when he received a shrapnel wound in the forearm.

Interviewed by a representative of the “Rushden Echo” he said: “At the time I got hit I was standing outside a disused cellar of a house where I was billeted. The house is about six hundred yards behind the British lines and is situated in a village that has been practically destroyed by shell fire from the German guns.

“On the day I was wounded the Germans were shelling a coal mine, and a shrapnel shell, which fell wide, struck the road near where I was standing. A pal of mine was lying by the side of a wall just opposite where the shell burst. The nose cap of the shell went through the wall just above him but he wasn’t hurt in the least, but I got a splinter of the shell casing in my right forearm. My arm bled a great deal, and I lost no time in making for the dressing station about 200 yards from my billet. As I was going there I had another narrow escape, another shell bursting on the road just as I was about to enter the door of the dressing station. A fragment flew between my face and the door, missing me by a few inches, in fact it was so close that I felt the draught and heard it whistle. Another step and it would have caught me a clout at the side of the head, and I question whether I should have lived to tell the tale.

The village where I was billeted, and where I have been ever since I went out is constantly under shell fire from the German batteries, so it is not very comfortable quarters.

“During my brief stay out there I have not participated in any work following a charge, although many times I have formed one of a working party putting up barbed wire entanglements in between the lines. That is a nerve-racking job, as at any moment you may be discovered, and a machine gun turned on you. I have had only one experience of that sort and that was quite enough. The Germans evidently thought they saw somebody and thought right as it happened. They sent up two or three star shells and then started a hot machine gun fire. We all threw ourselves flat down on our faces and remained for five minutes. The fire then ceased temporarily, and we took advantage of the lull to get back to the trenches, which we managed safely without any casualties.

"I should like Rushden chaps to know that the experience I gained with the Rushden Volunteer Company, of which my father, Sargt. W. Wood, is musketry instructor, was of great value to me during my training in England."

Rushden Warrant Officer - In The Great Advance
British Artillery Fire “Hellish” - Shaking the very Earth
Troops March on Singing - “A Fearful Hammering” - Veritable Death Traps
Sergt Major Miller (Rushden), of the Royal Engineers, writing to his brother-in-law and sister, Mr. and Mrs. W. Wood, of Fitzwilliam-street, Rushden, under date July 4th, sends some interesting particulars regarding the heavy fighting on the Somme. He heads his letter: “Somewhere in France – very hot district,” and writes:

“A few lines at present may not be out of place. You will have seen by the papers it has been a trifle warm around here. There is no news much except what has appeared in the papers.

“One can hardly realise it, the wounded passing here from the battle on the way to the Casualty Clearing Station. The railway runs along the back of the Casualty Clearing Station, and on Monday there were scores lying on stretchers awaiting the Red Cross train.

“The railway staff were working 24 hours right off ---------- wounded in 24 hours, not so bad --- and fancy reading a paper yesterday of their arrival in London, and seeing photo of same.

“I have been supervising some of the operating huts ----‘Butchers’ shops if you like – but, anyway, they have been a blessing. The main parts are tents. The accommodation in these two alone is for 2,000 odd, and the accessory buildings, cook houses, etc., are of the hut type. I was there on Sunday for a while, and I thought the ambulances were unceasing, which apparently they were. They worked splendidly. Of course, I had a chat with scores that were there on July 1st when it started, a beautiful morning, one of nature’s best.

“I have had very little to do since the affair started, and I am still hanging on for changes. I ‘doss’ anywhere, and am glad I managed to stick to my blankets. None of the troops have any, and there will be some coughs, etc., after this lot.

“The weather held up the show for two days, raining heavily. This must have been a big disadvantage, as it gave the enemy time to try and get reinforcements, but the artillery fire was hellish. It is useless trying to describe it. At nights it was grand, flashes all along the line, and the noise was somewhat deafening even at a few miles in the rear. You can guess what it would be like near it; the earth shook, I believe, with it.

“We had two railway sidings close here, where I had been assisting and supervising the erection of hangers for munitions – framework covered with tarpaulins. We have had long, tiring work, not so much exactly at the firing trenches, but at the railway sidings and road leading up to various places for guns, etc., providing accommodation for the troops whilst concentrating, water supply for horses, men, etc.

“Gradually additional Corps came in on either side of us, with the same staffs, and they squeezed in until this last month, near the trench line, and a few miles in the rear it has been fearfully congested. More and more are ever and anon going up. From all part of the line, in fact, they seem to rise up out of the ground. Since the affair started the troops come singing on through the night after night, guns and horses looking beautiful. Last night they gave them a fearful hammering. You must guess what for. It was as bad as any I have heard. You must not expect too much as the villages and woods are all veritable death traps, even after having been razed to the ground. On the whole I think everything is fairly satisfactory.

“Personally I shall be glad to get home, but one feels that they would not be out of it at any cost. You will notice that quite fifty per cent of the wounded are slight, I am pleased to say.”

Horse Artillery in Action - Rushden Gunner’s Narrow Escape
Two Thirds of the Battery Wiped Out - Terrible Effect Of German “Coal-Box”
Yesterday Mr. H. Willmott, of 3 East-grove, Rushden, received a thrilling letter, dated July 15th, from his son, Gunner Frank Willmott, R.H.A., who has been wounded in the Great Push. We take the following extracts from the letter:

“As you can guess, we have been getting it hot just lately – well, I can tell you ‘hot’ wasn’t in it. It wasn’t so bad when it first started a month ago, but this last fortnight has been something awful, and no mistake. We have had nearly three parts of the battery wiped out, and lost three officers. I have had some narrow squeaks.

“On the second advance we had finished firing to let the infantry go over, and were waiting in a kind of long narrow dip (called a nullah) when a ‘coal-box’ dropped amongst us. We were in a row, and the shell killed five and wounded four. Two men were killed on my right, one next to me, an officer and the next man to him, and it also wounded the man next to me on my left. I stopped three pieces – one along the top of my nose, one across the top of my right eye and one knocked a lump out of my thumb on my right hand. I could have gone to hospital had I wanted, but I didn’t. I went and got the wounds dressed and came back.

“We had to go in a new position the next day, and we had hardly enough men left to work one gun. Well. We got one gun into position, but we had to leave the other, it was so thundering hot. We found it a jolly sight hotter than the day before, but we only lost four, and three of the reinforcements who were coming up to help us out a bit. We got out of it all right – what was left of us, anyhow.”

Taking German Trenches - Rushden Soldier’s Thrilling Description
The British Advance on July 1st - Havoc from the British Guns
Sergt H. Pendered - Wounded In The Head
Mrs. J. Pendered, of 82 Queen-street, Rushden, paid a visit on Saturday to King George’s Hospital, Stamford-road, London, to see her son, Sergt. Horace Pendered, 19468, King’s Own Yorkshire Light Infantry, from whom she received news on Saturday morning that he had been wounded in the big push.

Mrs. Pendered found her son, who had a wound in the head, going on fairly well. He was able to give her a good description of his participation in the British advance in France on July 1st. He said that he was one of the first to lead the men over in the advance, and he and his men reached the fourth line of German trenches, though it was stated in newspapers afterwards that the British had only reached the third line. The British guns had worked awful havoc on the German trenches, even to the fourth line and beyond that. The trenches were smashed in almost beyond recognition, and Sergt. Pendered and his men set to work to dig and consolidate them. Then, when Sergt. Pendered was sitting down and smoking, a shell came over and he remembered no more until he found himself in a French hospital behind the fighting line.

A piece of the shell had struck him in the scalp, rendering him unconscious for four days, and but for his steel helmet, according to his own statement, he would not have seen daylight on this earth again.

In describing the advance Serg. Pendered said that all the officers went under and he himself had to take charge of the men. One officer was killed two minutes after the advance commenced. One of his platoon, only a mere boy, trembled with fright during the artillery duel just before the advance, and Sergt Pendered sent him down a dug-out for a little while. The lad seemingly got over his fright and came out again later and was instantly killed. In the opinion of a good many soldiers, such men as those, whose nerves are not unnaturally shaken to bits by the awful row of the guns and the indescribable scenes the shells produce, are in almost every case the first to go under. When a man at the front keeps his nerves together – as he eventually does after a short experience of the fighting – he carries with him confidence, and in many cases, an uncanny grip on life.

Sergt Pendered said that, despite his wound, he would not have missed that battle for the world. It was a glorious charge and a great experience.

The young sergeant, who is only 25 years old, is well known in Rushden and district as a school teacher. He was a pupil teacher some years ago in Rushden, and then a teacher at Earls Barton for 12 months. After that he went to a Sheffield Training Collage for school teachers for a year and a half. He left the college in December 1914, to join the Army and went out to France in December, 1915. One of his brothers, Harold Pendered, 21 years of age, is a private in the 3/4th Northants and is now serving with that regiment in ---------- .

Another brother, Mr. Ernest Pendered, is in Aberdeen, America.

Bombarded for Three Days - Rushden N.C.O.’s Experiences
What a “Whiz-Bang” Did - “Jack Johnsons” the Worse War and All Its Horrors
Sergt Horace Pendered, 19468, Kings Own Yorkshire Light Infantry, son of Mr. J. Pendered, of Queen-street, Rushden, writing to his brother, who is in America says:-

“I came out to France on December 7th and have now got used to the war and all its horrors. I have seen a great deal – much more than I ever thought I could ever stand when I was in civil life and more than I would be allowed to tell you in this letter. I think I have experienced all the horrors and hardships of war excluding gas, which so far it has been my lucky escape. I have had scores and scores of bullets just whiz past my head, but when you have been here a short time you take no notice of these. I have had a shell – a “whiz-bang” – burst within two yards of me. I have undergone a three day bombardment during which time the Germans sent over a thousand of their heavy shells as well as many of the smaller ones. I have experienced some of the worst weather in the trenches and when I look back over the past few months I think myself jolly lucky that I am here to tell the tale. I think the narrowest escape I ever had was from a “whiz-bang.” I was sitting in my dug-out with three others having my dinner when the Huns started shelling. The first shell they sent over skinned the top of my dug-out and exploded within two yards of the door. It sent up stones and earth in all directions throwing a piece of earth straight into the dug-out but luckily none of us were hit. We didn’t wait for Fritz to send another but were up and out of it sharp. If that shell dropped a yard short it would have been all up with your humble servant. I have also had my rifle smashed by a piece of trench mortar, these are about as big as a two gallon jar and when they explode they send earth and stones up to a height of about 30 yards and make a hole big enough to drop a house in. The ‘Jack Johnsons’ that Fritz sends are the worst; they make a row which can nearly be heard in America. One would think the earth was splitting. They blow up sand bags, earth or anything they can to a height of 50 yards.

“I am out of the trenches now and billeted in a large building just back of the firing line. I have a little room to myself. My only furniture is an iron bedstead and a hole in the wall serves as a window. When I look out of this I am reminded that winter is still with us, for the snow is gently falling outside.

“You ask me if we can drive the Huns back. Yes most decidedly, any time. We have them absolutely whacked and could have driven them back before now, but we want to do it with as little loss of life as possible.”

Among the Dead Men – Picking Out the Wounded
Rushden Ambulance Man Under Fire – Wounded Men All Cheerful
Tribute to the Infantry – Vivid Description of German Dug-outs
A representative of the “Rushden Echo” has received an interesting letter from Pte. Albert Dicks, a Rushden man now serving in France with the Field Ambulance. Pte. Dicks, whose home is in Orchard-place, Rushden, writes:-

“Of course, you know, we are doing something out here. We have been up the line some time, and were up here for the attack on July 1st. I shall never forget the week’s bombardment before it. We put something over for them to be getting on with.

“I must not tell you where we are, but I think we have been in the hottest part of it. We had to work hard day and night, and, of course, saw some awful sights. After a time, we get used to it. At one time I should not have thought of going among so many dead men, but it makes no difference now. The thing we have to think about is getting the wounded out quickly. I was surprised to find them so cheerful. I only remember one who complained out of all I had through my hands.

“The infantry were fine chaps to help us when we needed help. They used to say we were no use, but after this, well, they all give us a good name. Our Divisional Officers and our own praised us up. We have some good officers.

“We are now having a rest, I’m glad to say. I’m quite sure we deserve it, considering what we have been through. We had some narrow escapes, but, glad to say, never lost a man. How we got through it I don’t know. Never mind, we are out of it and well, and no doubt shall be ready when wanted again. But I hope it will soon be over.

“My word! The German dug-outs are fine. Some of them are 30 feet down. One I went in had about eight rooms, and even had paper on the walls. They also had electric light and a telephone in, and stoves to cook their own food. They also left plenty of food, which shows they left in a hurry. To see their dug-outs one would think they had intended stopping there for life. But when once we started they soon found they had to move. It was very interesting going over their trenches. There were plenty of souvenirs about, but I only troubled to get a few.

“I am sorry to hear of so many Rushden chaps going down.”

In a letter which was published in our last issue (July 28) Pte. Dicks said that the work of the field ambulance men was terribly hard and all the men were done up. Water and mud were up to their knees—in fact, sometimes they had to get men to pull their legs out while they themselves held the stretchers.

The Battle Near The Somme – Thrilling Description by Rushden Soldier
French Opinion: Worse than Verdun
Pushing the Germans Back but Costing a Lot of Men
Corpl. Allen Wounded in Night Attack – Lucky Escape from No-man’s Land
Mr and Mrs W Allen, 73 Cromwell-road, Rushden, have received the following from their son Corpl. Frank Allen, Northants Regt., who has been rather severely wounded in action in France. We take the following extracts from the letter:

“Just a few lines to let you know that I arrived in England this morning. I am in hospital at Chichester in the south of England, just the opposite to last time (when invalided home with rheumatism); I went to the north of Scotland then....

I was severely wounded in the knee on August 16th at about 3a.m. The bullet has gone right through the knee and the bone as well, and has fractured the tibia bone. I had an operation on Aug. 19th and had my knee opened. On both sides of the patella a lot of blood had to be cleared out. I am getting on as well as I can expect, but I must say my leg is very painful. It is the left leg. The M.O. thought at first I should lose it, but I thank God I have still got all my limbs at present. I am afraid it will be some time yet before it is better, but still I think I am lucky to be alive after what we went through in the big Push.

“I have been in the Somme fighting and the French say it is worse than Verdun. There is some awful fighting going on all the time. They are pushing the Germans back a good bit now, but it is costing us a lot of men.

“I haven’t told you how I got wounded yet. Well, it was in a night attack. We had orders to get into a German advance trench. Our artillery did not fire at all; we were to take it by surprise. Well, we went over the top at 2.15a.m., and at 2.30a.m. we were to move up as far as possible before making the final ‘dust’. However, the enemy got to know of our movement. As soon as we started to advance he turned machine-guns on us and signalled to his artillery to shell us, and I can tell you they gave us a ‘birthday’.

“However, in spite of all this our lads went on and took cover in shell holes to let things quieten down a bit. I was in charge of two groups, five men in each, and I had to keep communications with another platoon on my left, so you see I was backwards and forwards from one party to another all the while. It was when I was trying to get my party together to go forward that I was hit, and we were only about 50 yards from the German trench then.

“I rolled into a shell hole and lay there until daybreak. Then came the task of getting back. Our men had withdrawn back to their own trench, and I was in ‘No Man’s Land’ between the lines. Anyhow I determined to get in or go under, so I crawled from shell hole to another. All the while the Bosches had their machine guns on us. There were some more wounded about besides me. Eventually I saw our lines and managed to get in without being hit again.

“Well, I think I have given you a good explanation and you can thank your lucky stars that your son Frank is still alive—but not ‘kicking’, as my leg hurts too much. This has stopped me from doing the step-dance for a bit. It goes against the grain laying in bed, but still it can’t be helped.”

Coprl. Frank Allen was one of the company of Northamptons who in the early months of the war, it will be remembered, were tricked by a party of Germans showing the white flag and then shooting down the men who came to take them prisoners. Lce-Corpl. Allen (as he was then) said in one of his letters written just after that incident that the Northants men dropped all round him.

Mr and Mrs Allen have another son, Pte. Albert Allen, Hussars, now serving in France in a quarter not far from where his brother was wounded.

Fighting for Two Days – Without Food or Drink
Rushden Man’s Luck – Twice Wounded and Once Gassed
Pte. William Cox, son of Mr. John Cox, of Ealing-terrace, Rushden, is now in the County of London War Hospital at Epsom, and sends home the following letter: "Sorry to say that I have been wounded again. It is worse this time than it was last, but sheer up, you must think yourself lucky that I am alive at all. I have got it this time in my left shoulder, and it has come out of my back; it has gone right through without touching any bones. I don’t think I shall be home for another week or two, but I hope the war will be over by the time I am better, as I don’t want to out there any more. We were fighting for two days hand-running without anything to eat or drink, so you can tell what a state I was in. Well, I think I have told you all, so cheer up, and remember me to all at home".

Mr. and Mrs. Cox are going to Epsom today to see their son. Pte. Cox, before enlisting, worked for Messrs. Sanders and Sanders.

Rushden Soldier Feels Hot – Over 107 Degrees in the Shade
Life in Mesopotamia - 'Expecting Great Things – at Any Moment'
Gunner C. Sheffield, of Rushden, with the I.E.F., send us the following interesting letter:
"Your paper, the ‘Rushden Echo’, was handed to me two days ago by a friend and brother comrade of mine, B.R. How delighted I was to read local news again of dear old Rushden. You perhaps haven’t given it a thought as to whether your paper has been read so far away. No doubt you know your paper has been greatly read in France and the Dardanelles, but out here in Mesopotamia it seems so different. This is a land which, before the war, wasn’t greatly thought of; in fact, some of us thought such a land could not exist, but here we are. I suppose we are here because our duty lies here. This battery, after doing splendid work in France since the commencement of the war, set sail last December, and I joined them at Marseilles.

"We had a grand journey across the seas, calling at Malta, Alexandria, and Port Said, and we made a safe landing on the Tigris bank about January 6, 1916. We came into action on Feb. 4th and took part in the great advance upon Kut, which end came to us like a thunderbolt. The conditions we are living under now are much improved, but the one thing we cannot stand is the terrific heat. The British soldier is suffering terribly from it. It is over 100 degrees in the shade every day, and has reached 107½. Of course, you do not know in England what such heat is, as your thermometer doe not reach that mark.

"Well, Mr. Editor, things have been a bit slow here, practically at a standstill ever since the fall of Kut, but we are expecting great things at any moment. We know the Russians are doing well up at Bagdad, and I think the issue of this campaign lies here. As concern oppositions we had practically nothing worth speaking of from the Turkish artillery. Their shells burst high in the air and wide of their mark, but they have bags of infantrymen, who want some shifting. I do hope before long to write you again and give you a more full account of the Mesopotamia campaign. (The above report has been unavoidably held over for a time.)

Rushden Officer Badly Hurt - Lieut. A. W. Holland
In a Serious Condition - Amputation of a Leg
Lieut. A. W. Holland, Northants Regt., formerly a clerk in the Rushden branch of the Northamptonshire Union Bank, son of Mr. and Mrs. Holland, of Dale House, Stony Stratford, who was very severely wounded at the front, has been, we regret to hear, lying in a dangerous condition, and his mother was sent for.

He sustained a compound fracture of the leg in the recent attack and lay for eight hours before receiving attention. As a result septic poisoning set in, and on Sept. 4 his leg was amputated at the Hotel Christol, Boulogne. His condition, though serious, is hopeful.

Lieut Holland, who enlisted in December, 1914, went to France early in April last. He was a lieutenant in the Rushden Church Lads’ Brigade.

In the Trenches – Writing home from the front recently, the late Lieut Coales, said “The chief trouble out here is the rats, which abound in the trenches. They are rather large and cheeky. We are awfully pleased at the good news about Roumania, as it will shorten the war considerably. We have to sleep in our clothes in the trenches. When in billets for a day or two, one is usually in a more or less ruined village, constantly under shell fire. In the little dugout under the parapet of a trench where I am writing the rats run about the roof. There are 1000s out here.”

Rushden Soldier In Sand - Exciting Fights in the Air
Turk’s Narrow Escape
Gunner Cyril Sheffield (son of Mr. Sheffield, of Crabb-street, Rushden), a former member of St. Mary’s Church Choir and of the Rushden Adult School Male Choir, sends us the following interesting letter from Mesopotamia:

“I have not much to write about, as I once expected. No great things have happened since my last letter. We have been in action once again, although only for a short time, and are now back in camp. Fighting still seems to be slow. We do not get much to excite us in any way. At times we get an enemy airman hovering over us, which works us up to a pitch of excitement when we see our shells bursting, as we think, right on him, but still gets back the way he comes. Sometimes we witness an air fight, which makes one hold one’s breath for a moment. Only the other week, one of our airmen came in contact with the Turk, and just for a fraction of a moment he came down on his nose, and it seemed marvellous to us how he righted his machine again, but he made a safe landing.

“We are now in the middle of October, but it is still very hot in the daytime. It is with difficulty that I write this letter, as the sand is blowing in all directions. It is awful at times. During a sandstorm you can see nothing in front of you, especially when we are on watering order. We have to leave to the instinct of the animals as to where they take us. It is one of the things that worries us, for we can neither work nor play when the sand is blowing.

“Talking about play, we get plenty of sport and, without boast, our battery holds a splendid record at football, cricket, or hockey, although, I must admit, we were severely beaten at hockey by a team of natives. We also hold concerts, and I might say we have some fine talent. We have had a visit from a native band, and it was fine to hear music once again. All this happens just behind the firing line, and I often wonder what the Turk thought when he heard the music, as he must have done, being so near.”

Glimpses of The War - Life in the Firing Line
Concert by The “Tykes”
Tear Shells and Poison Gas - Midnight Dangers
A member of the Rushden Urban Council, now an officer in one of the regiments serving in France, gives the following “glimpses” of life with the Colours:-

We were awakened soon after midnight by a message from headquarters cancelling the orders issued the previous evening – orders to proceed to take over a section of the trenches. Very well – another hour in (or on) bed, for the wooden floor of the dwarf hut was all that was provided to sleep on. This is when a thick blanket comes in so useful.

Morning programme of work, interrupted by the rain, is now finished, so I proceed to make a bed, after watching an aeroplane escape from the German shells. Wire netting is provided, and I find two stakes 6 inches long and 3 inches long, and proceed to make an oblong framework. It is not very easy, as the stakes are not straight, nor are the tools sharp. A meat saw not being very effective, I borrow a hand saw from the next battalion. (Some people criticise the teaching of woodwork in schools, but such early practice in the use of tools must have been very useful during this war in many a regiment). This finished (between the heavy showers), I learn that a warm shower bath can be obtained. An old barn has been converted into a divisional bath. Somewhere outside is a boiler and the pipes are arranged gridiron fashion in the barn, about 8 feet above our heads. The brick floor is already warm by the previous showers, and so we pull the chain and get a good soaking.

At 6.30 we are due at a performance by the “Tykes” – a Divisional Pierrot Troupe. The box office is an excrescence on the door of the huge barn, whose roof at the ridge is nearly 40 feet high. Already our seats are booked, for otherwise we should never be able to get in. Through the “grille” of the barn door we pass and find the place already crowded. Two of the dividing walls have been removed to within about 3 feet of the ground. The beams that rested on these walls are not shored up by baulks, so that the roof is still well supported. Between first and second dwarfed walls we find “Rows” D to H – all but the last comprising camp stools. You may reach rows A to C – as in orchestral stalls – by steps over the 3 foot walls. Every seat is now occupied, but we are still before time. A medley of voices behind us – there is no mistaking the Yorkshire dialect, and the broad-acred county is well represented in the audience, for it is the Tykes who are to perform. An excellent performance, too, they give us. The pianist is a master at his work, and the performers – all drawn from the ranks out here – would attract big houses in our home “palaces.” The local or rather regimental “hits” in the gagging is enjoyed immensely by the khaki-clad crowd. “Toreador,” to “Michael Carsury, “ “Tennesee” to “Optimist and Pessimist” are the ranges of the programme.

We must laugh at the sketch – “The hall porter” – whilst the funny man and the dismal funny man keep us intensely aroused. The interval was not so long as was announced (48 years) and the time passed quickly. At 8.30 we are out again, and plough and slide through the muddy farmyard, where the mechanics are busy on artillery repairs, into the dark and muddy road. Here is a never ceasing stream of vehicles, six mules and a transport cart repeated, it seems, a score of times, then a string of motor wagons (load not to exceed 3 tons, but it seems as if they carry 20), a few led horses and mounted officers. Now a motor dispatch rider steers by with amazing dexterity and coolness, then we have a line of huge traction engines whose wheels have a diameter of about 8 feet – never mind what they are for – a light motor car passing then; and as we get to the cross roads where there is a guide with his lantern we find a like current from the Blackville road held up till there is a chance to cross. In the opposite direction runs a current almost as great, and the motor ambulances are passing these as opportunity arises. A few hundreds of British soldiers crowd the streets – to or from the Estaminets the majority seem to be travelling – and we wend our way slowly by them; held up from time to time by the crush. Mud to the boot tops! Mud splashed from the passing cars! Mud as we slide back to our huts! Puttees are coated with mud, but by next morning our orderlies, by some magic, reproduced our boots and puttees in a fit condition for parade. Dinner is soon over, and some play cards and some write or read until we turn in. The bed I made has been worth the time spent on it, and I get a sound rest – broken now and again by the noise of the guns barking at the Huns beyond.

We start after tea so as to reach our destination at dusk – a working party. What our task is does not much matter.

The roads are drier than on the preceding evening, and so we get along quickly. At the “plain,” which is overlooked in places by the enemy, we drive into sections of 50, each with its officers. Soon we are held up. Similar large parties, long strings of transport wagons, motor lorries, and ammunition wagons are packed close together at the entrance to the village, which is being vigorously shelled. After a while we “get a move on” and are met by guides who conduct us to our destination. Just before we get there a shell drops within ten feet of us – luckily it is a “dud” and turns itself to the earth.

Our section has its allotted task, and we swarm over the parapet, in the light of the moon – almost full – soon to commence our work. For five hours the men work quickly. Fortunately the moon is first obscured by dark clouds, and this prevents our presence being discovered. But from time to time the light is so good that it is a marvel we are not observed. The nature of the work done in the first hours has assisted in this. All the time the shells are screaming overhead and the machine gunners are providing an intermitted rattling.

It is now midnight, and we have finished without a casualty. We move off silently with picks and spades section by section, over the parapet into the trench and along the communicating trenches back to the village. It is easy going, as the trenches have been much improved during their two years’ service, and we have a wooden “footpath” nearly all the way.

Our section moves off with the other sections of our company close in rear. After quitting the village and finding all present, the sections separate by hundred yards and we cross the exposed plain. Another section is close behind us. The enemy must know where we are, for we are vigorously shelled. We press on, for the shells are in rear at present. Nor do they quite reach us, though some appear to burst almost overhead. Here our company cooker (or travelling kitchen) is awaiting us, and drawn up close under a sheltering bank, we have our pint of tea or cocoa – still hot, though it has been brought four miles to meet us.

Not so fortunate are the other sections. Over their heads the shells are bursting and the men scatter to find shelter in disused trenches. Tear shells, too, are dropped near them, so they have to put on gas helmets – for often the tear shells contain poison gas, too.

We are refreshed by our hot drinks and a few minutes’ rest, we soon are swinging off, along the moonlit roads to our quarters, arriving at 7.30. The unfortunate ones come in, in small sections, at various intervals until four o’clock. But beyond the inconvenience caused by the first tear shells, not one of the working party suffers injury, and go to bed, tired, but well satisfied with our night’s work. The flashes continue, and the loud boom of the guns is still heard, but we are all too tired to be disturbed by these, and soon all is quiet in our darkened lines.

Germans Whacked Now and They Realise It - Soldier’s Exciting Experiences
German Bombardment Nothing to Ours - Inferno and Earthquake Combined
Germans Driven Daft by British Artillery - Enemy Left Hanging On Barbed Wire
Next Summer Should See The Finish
Private Athol Miller, Northants Regiment, eldest son of Mr. Elijah Miller, of 31, Moor-road, Rushden (a well-known local preacher in the Higham Ferrers Wesleyan circuit) has been spending his first ten days’ leave at home after 15 months on the Western front. Interviewed by a representative of the “Rushden Echo,” he said:-

“There are many things that one doesn’t like to talk about. I had been at the front nearly twelve months before I got wounded, although I had many narrow escapes at Loos, and others on the Somme before I got the injury which sent me into hospital.

“It was about the middle of July, after the commencement of the great offensive, that I was moved to the Somme front and we were sent straight to the trenches, but our work was simply to hold the German trenches that had been captured by the regiment which had preceded us. It was a pretty hot part of the line we went into, as you can imagine when I tell you that it was just in front of Trones Wood, the German line being about 400 yards from our front. It was the enemy’s shells that made matters so uncomfortable for us, but their bombardment was nothing in comparison with ours, and we suffered but few casualties until August 18th, when we were ordered to attack. Our artillery preceded the attack by a heavy bombardment of the enemy positions, and the noise was simply deafening.

“We could see that our gunners had got the range to a nicety, our airmen directing the fire, and for two or three miles the German trenches presented the appearance of an inferno and earthquake combined, columns of flame, earth, and smoke rising many feet in the air. For about an hour before the attack there was a lull in the firing, but about three minutes before we went over our artillery started to give it to them worse than ever. It was at 2.45 p.m., broad daylight, that we got the order to go over, and the men sprang over the parapet and, according to an officer of another regiment, we went over as it going on parade.

“Our casualties whilst crossing No Man’s Land were comparatively light, as the artillery kept us well protected with a curtain of fire moving in front of us. We did not meet with much resistance until we reached the enemy line, when the fun commenced. There was scarcely any semblance of trenches left, as our gunners had battered them beyond recognition, and those of the enemy who had not been killed were in dug-outs a good many feet below the ground, and we found that they had not much fight left in them, most of them having been left very nearly daft from the violence of the bombardment.

“We got well to work with the bayonet, and in about five minutes had got possession of the trench. The Rifle Brigade on our left captured about 400 German prisoners and these were sent back to the base.

“I had not been in the newly captured line more than half an hour before I got wounded. At the time we were engaged in digging ourselves in, and I was at work on the parapet when a piece of shrapnel struck me in the left shoulder and knocked me down.

“I lost consciousness for a few minutes, and when I came round found myself lying where I fell, but my wound had been dressed. As soon as I felt able I walked back to the field hospital about a mile-and-a-half in our rear, and there I received further attention. I remained at the field hospital one night, and was then sent to Boulogne and remained in hospital there for about a week.

“Whilst I was there the piece of shrapnel was extracted, but my wound was not considered serious enough for me to be sent to England, and after a fortnight in a convalescent camp at Boulogne I returned to the base. Shortly afterwards I was back in the trenches.

“The week before I came home we had another exciting experience, when about 50 Germans made a bombing raid on our part of the line. We took one prisoner and about twelve more of the enemy were left hanging on our barbed wire, having been caught by our artillery. The remainder scuttled back as fast as they could. We had three wounded, but none killed.

“At the point of the line where I am now stationed it is very hot, but we are well on top of the Germans now, who are whacked to the wide and realise it. I think next year, about the end of the summer, should see the finish.”