Trench Art

This "diary" is the property of J Ashley PO1, and it relates to the RN Brigade work, in the Siege and Fall of Antwerp. Oct 1914

Machine Gun Section  "Anson" Battalion 2nd Royal Naval Div

On Sat evening I walk to Ash, a large village 6 miles from Betteshanger Camp where we are in training.

It was a lovely evening, and as I walked I had no idea that on the morrow I should be marching away on active service, and equipped sufficiently enough to meet an attack at any time.

At 8.25, I return, and after mustering my men, and reporting them, I turn in.

Sunday Oct 4th

3.30 am. News is received at headquarters that all of the Brigade is to proceed upon active service at once.

Reveille sounds; in order to rouse the men out as quickly as possible, the "Band" in charge of the "bandmaster" is got out, and with barely any clothes on, they go round to every tent to rouse the sleepy occupants. Immediately, men turn out; and clad only in their shirts follow round the band, singing and shouting, to awaken the remainder of the men.

All are got out, and parade in full strength. Lieut Anderson tells us that the "Anson" Battalion is proceeding on active service at once. Ammunition would be served out to every man before we left.  At 6 am breakfast, and after packing our kit-bags we take them to a specified place, ready for transit.

8.30 All hands "fall in". Ammunition is served out as far as 

it will go. There is not enough for every man to receive the full complement, so each man gets 50 rounds and are told there is plenty on board of the transport.

After receiving a "sandwich" apiece, which consists of half a loaf of bread, and 1/2 lb of corned-beef, "bully-beef", we march off to the tune of "The Minstrel boy to the war has gone" while Lord Northbourne exclaims "Come back, my boys and see me". Lady Northbourne is with him and weeping.

For eight miles we march through peaceful villages, with people, in some instances just coming out of church, and wondering where this dusty, joyous, and happy-looking crowd of sailors, armed to the teeth, are going.

At noon we reach Dover, and amidst shouts and cheering from the inhabitants, we march through to the Naval Dockyard where, after being

given half a pint of ginger beer, and a piece of cake, also a good rest, we embark on the transport "Oxonian", belonging to the Leyland S.S. Co.

At 11.0pm we get under weigh in company with the transport "Mount Temple"  - C.P.R. liner - and escorted by the "Foresight", a destroyer and submarine. We arrive off Dunkirque at 4.0am Monday morning.

After lying outside to enable the "Mount Temple" to moor inside the Docks, we proceed there also, amidst cheers whilst our band plays the "Marsellaise", which is so dear to the hearts of the French, as is the National Anthem to the British.

We berthed alongside of Government shed and commenced to disembark our troops, stores and conveyances, also maxim guns and 2,000,000 rounds of ammunition.

When all the gear is off the ship, we "fall in" and each man receives

a greatcoat, also those who have no jersey receives an extra flannel to put on over the one he is wearing then, as the weather was pretty cold.

When all are "kitted up" we commence to serve out biscuits and rations also ammunition to last us at least two days, as we are told we are proceeding to a place where it might be impossible to obtain these things perhaps for days.

All this time, although we are in a country infested with the enemy, we have no idea as to our destination, nor how soon we shall be in the firing line. 

At 7.0pm our commandant - a very able man - addressed the "Anson" Battalion, informing us we were to proceed at once to Antwerp.

Should the line be clear, we would ride all the way, but in the case the enemy had cut it, we should be obliged to cut our way 

through at any cost.

He requested our motto to be - "Sobriety, courtesy, and devotion to duty." To this we loudly cheered our answer.

11.0pm after waiting an hour or two for the train, we fall in again, and march off to the carriages. The train itself was the longest one I have ever seen, with no less than four engines.

The reason for having such a long train was that it was hard to accommodate the whole of our Battalion, which would, we know, be needed, in case the enemy made his attack. As they were known to be in considerable force, it would require all our numbers to drive him off.

Before leaving Dunkirque, we were told to charge our magazines, not to go to sleep, but wait for the order to fire, and to get beneath the carriages to fire from. This would afford ample 

headcover.

Night passes away, nothing occurs, beyond that the train stops at every station to learn if possible, whether or not the line is clear.

During all these stops, the poor Belgian peasants are bringing us out hot coffee, bread, beer, cigarettes etc which are welcomed with delight by us, for it is very cold, and exceedingly uncomfortable, being cramped up in the carriages.

At noon we arrive at Antwerp central station, we disembark from the trains, and as we pass out of the station into the street, we each receive a small tin of sardines, which I must admit came in very useful when we arrived in the trenches, for the empty tin came in as a drinking utensil, we having no cups.

Upon marching through the streets en route to the gate leading to Fort Waelham, we were greeted everywhere by the delighted 

population with presents of hot coffee, bread, butter, chocolates, sweets, beer, milk, cigars, cigarettes,  tobacco, fruit, - in fact everything.

It was quite amusing to see the men trying to accomplish the acrobatic feat of drinking a cup of coffee or a glass of beer, or even a bottle, whilst on the march.

Also to have the Belgian women-folk, craving a kiss from the "brav Anglais". 

After marching through the town, to the quarter very near the gates on the road to Lierre we call a halt, and to our surprise are told off to "billets".

We, the machine gun section, also the "band" are told off, for "billeting" in a dancing hall. 

We detail off sentrys, the remainder are told off to lie down in the straw to get what sleep they can - we had then none for more than forty-eight hours.

The orders are that we shall get what sleep we can, and

then march off to the trenches to relieve the marines.

On obtaining leave, I, with P.O. Learmouth - machine-gun section - and a jolly good fellow, endeavour to get a shave, and I in addition a haircut, as we thought it would be quite some time ere we should be able to obtain another chance.

We obtain the much-needed shave, and I, in addition the much-needed haircut - bought some nice cigars and cigarettes to smoke in the trenches, and arrive in the street in which our battalion is quartered, and, to our surprise, we see all our men lined up in marching order.

When arriving to where our own sections are drawn up and waiting, our Officer-in-charge - Mr Duncan - and a splendid fellow - told us to get on our gear at once as the Battalion were marching off 

to the trenches to relieve the marines who were being hard-pressed.

We hurriedly buckle on our gear, and upon joining the Battalion, we all commenced to march off again.

The same thing happened as before, the townspeople followed us nearly within a mile of the trenches, until the noise of the enemy "Jack Johnsons" frightened them away.

As we were marching out, we saw thousands of poor Belgian peasants, their homes I suppose had been burned down by the ruthless hand of war. This, I think, hit us far harder than anything else could possibly have done, and I am quite certain that such a scene must convince any man that this state of things should never exist in England, except over our dead bodies.

We halted a

few moments to recharge our magazines, and prepare to extend in order to make attack.

We marched off again - no "band" now, as the instruments had been left behind in Antwerp, and the men themselves were utilised as a Red Cross band, and arrived at a small town - Lierre I think it was, where, just outside, on both sides of the river, the battle was going on. 

As we were marching through there was a continuous line of automobiles, nearly all flying the Red Cross flag, and with nurses standing upon their footboards urging the drivers forward for all they were worth, so as to save if possible, their stricken occupants. Poor chaps!

One could not help feeling sorry for them, they were like many of our own, received a few hours later 

stricken down with these terrible injuries, whilst doing their duty - fighting bravely for their country.

We halted in this town, which was entirely deserted by its inhabitants, and no wonder; the shells were falling pretty thick and fast, and the concussion of their explosion had caused most of the windows to fall out. 

It was here that I got my glimpse of the passage of a "Jack Johnson". It was like a rainbow of beetling black smoke, as it came from their long-range howitsers.

There were aeroplanes in plenty, British, French, Belgian, and German, also a couple of airships - a Zeppelin, and a semi-rigged Belgian vessel. These two vessels were "anchored" and taking observations.

One could see a plucky British, Belgian, or French aeroplane, go flying 

over the German lines sending off the range by letting off their puff of black or white smoke. This is the means by which range is sent by aircraft, except by airships, and theirs is sent off by "Herzian rays", or wireless telegraphy. 

Also one would see them being chased by German "Taubs", but in both daring and manouvering the Germans are thoroughly outclassed.

When we halted, we were at once served out with Belgian entrenching tools, each man receiving one each of these short spades - and very useful they were too.

To our disappointment an order came through that we were to bivouac in the street until the early hours of the morning, when an attempt would be made to reach the trenches 

under cover of the darkness.
 
Anyway, tired as they all were, there was precious little sleep for us us, as the noise of the forts on our right, and the bursting shells, was deafening.

I laid down on the wet earth with the "lads", at about 7 oclock, to try and get some sleep. The only covering we had was our great coats, which althrough that enjoyable week were the utmost service to us, for we had no other covering. For my pillow, I had a large tin of "bully-beef". Somehow amid the noise, I dozed off, and was enjoying as comfortable a sleep as could be got under the circumstances, when I was awakened by my Chief Petty Officer telling me that the "Adjutant" needed my services at once.

I at once saw there was some sport on hand, otherwise he would hardly have sent for me, so picking up 

my rifle - my ammunition was already upon me - I went and enquired, what was it he wanted. 

After he had explained to me, that he wanted a man who could read a map or chart drawn to scale, of the town wherein we were situated.

Upon assuring himself that my knowledge of "Chartwork" was what he required, he then told me to pick a couple of men I could depend on, gave me a chart of the town and told me to find the house in which were stationed our "headquarters" or "staff-officers". 

I returned to where my "gun-section" was quartered, and picked out two men, smart intelligent youngsters and unmarried - a good thing in a case like this - and set off.

After about an hour and a half of dodging, twisting, and turning, to avoid being seen and fired upon by the enemy

pickets, we arrived at the house required and I reported myself to "headquarters".

The officer commanding the 2nd Brigade instructed me to station my men in the passage, and get a sleep myself. I did this, but had no sooner dozed off, than I was awakened by one of my own men, who informed me that I was wanted immediately.

Upon seeing the "Head" again, I received instructions to the effect that I had to get back to the "battalions" at all costs, and inform them that they had to retire at once, upon the second line of trenches.

On the homeward journey I had to reprise the first performance, but succeeded in reaching the "Commandant's" office to deliver my message at 3.15am Wednesday.

At once, "Reveille" sounded, and at 3.45am we proceeded to march to these trenches, where upon 

upon arriving, we commenced to occupy at once, D. Company first.

It was a cold, foggy morning, with just a touch of frost in the air, and it was about 5.40 am.

The trench "D" Company occupied was on the extreme left. Next came C's trench, very near one of the roads leading from Fort Waelhem.

We at once preceeded to prepare a place of concealment for our "maxims". Our guns-crew were employed doing this, whilst the other crew were employed filling sand-bags for the "head-cover" of the gun's operators. The troops meanwhile were improving the trenches by placing about 10 inches of "headcover" across the "loop holes".

At about 8am we managed to obtain a sardine-tin of coffee, also some biscuits and "bully-beef". The coffee, the Belgian soldiers brought to us.

At noon, the guns came up, also 6,000 rounds of ammunition.

Just as we had completed placing them in a position to give the Germans a warm reception, the "Adjutant" came along, and enquired where had we placed the guns. I pointed out their place of concealment which he said were very good indeed, but added that he was very sorry, as we should have to remove and entrench in a place he would show me.

He took me past D Company's trenches, and nearly to the end of A's. There were no trenches to the right of this but a fort instead.

Upon returning to C's trench, we commenced to move the guns to the place that had been pointed out. As soon as we arrived to our prospective position, we commenced to entrench ourselves at once.

All this time the "boom" of the German guns was growing more

and more distinct, while one could hear quite plainly the whistle and scream of the projectiles, as they fired into the town of Antwerp over our heads.

At 12.30, a German "Taube" flew over our heads, and shot out his white smoke. She was fired on by British and Belgians, but I think she got safely away, for, when they opened fire with their artillery that evening, they were dropping their "shrapnel" about 20 yards in rear of our trenches. 

We worked hard at entrenching our guns, and at about 3.30pm we had the satisfaction of completing.

We then got our dinner, and had just finished planting a very good "kitchen garden" - including a variety of vegetables generally used in the kitchen such as:- Brussel sprouts, turnips, cabbages, etc when the order or 

or request came for volunteers for a reconnoitering patrol.

Of course I couldn't be out of this piece of promising sport, so after asking the Adjutant if I could come, and gaining his consent, I picked up my rifle and 50 rounds of ammunition, and we set off.

Before I started I had to appoint somebody to take my place in case of "accidents".

After preceeding about three-quarters a mile from "camp", we "spotted" a patrol of "Uhlans", German advance scouts.

I blew my whistle and made the sign to get to "earth". I was only about ten paces from our Adjutant, and we lay watching them for about 20 minutes, when they rode away in the direction of their own lines. I was then told to blow my whistle and get our patrol of 8 men together, which I 

I did.

We then found to our surprise that two were missing.

We sent the remainder back to the trenches, and we proceeded out in search of them.

We had gone about a mile further on, and were just turning round to come back to our own lines, when some Belgian refugees informed us that, they had seen some Germans doing something to the telegraph wires about a quarter of a mile further on, and round the bend of a road, which led to the bridge following the river.

We proceeded in the direction given, and were just in the act of turning the corner when we saw a big Uhlan standing in the middle of the road, leaning on his lance, and looking in the direction of his own lines, which were about half a mile further along, but on the South side of the river. He was 

standing about 200 yards away.

The road itself was flanked by hedges about 4 feet high.

We jumped through a gap, and on turning the corner we found a ditch running parallel to the road, and just beneath the hedge.

We ran along this ditch and got abreast of him, and upon looking through the hedge, we saw to our surprize, a party of men gathered beneath a telegraph pole; looking up, we saw two men, busily engaged in doing something aloft.

The top man had an instrument fastened to the wires, and was evidently tapping them, and the bottom man was cutting the lower wires with a bright pair of pliers - both wore white insulating gloves. 

Evidently the message that was coming through was very inter(esting

inter)esting for both the officer in charge of the party, and also his men, were gesticulating, and making a lot of noise. 

It was jolly lucky that our "Adjutant" understood German, for one could hear everything what they were talking about, they being only about 30 yards away. Accordingly, we learnt their plans, strength, when they expected reinforcements, where they were coming from, and how many, also how strong they supposed us to be and when and how they meant to attack us. 

That is the reason why, when we were attacked that night, we held our "fire" and allowed them to approach as near as 4 hundred yards of us, when we gave them H--- and drove them off.

We waited till they had gone in the direction of 

their own lines, and then proceeded in the direction of ours, which we reached about 9pm, 5 hours after the specified time.

The "Adjutant" went to report to head-quarters, and I proceeded to my own trench, and saw the "boys", who all thought we had been shot or taken prisoners. They were jolly glad to find it was not the case, - and I was too.

I had been back in the trenches about 10 minutes when the Germans opened fire with their shrapnel, also with rifles.

It was my first experience with shrapnel, and I must admit, it was pretty "Hot". One would think "H---" had been let loose.

This went on for about half an hour when the shrapnel ceased abruptly, as it had begun, and they then opened fire with rifles.

It rained bullets 

for about 15 minutes, but they did hardly any harm to us, as they were much too high. The only damage done was, killing cattle, and smashing tiles of the houses about twenty yards in our rear. 

During the remainder of that night, they attacked us two or three times, but we were successful in driving them off, with but little loss of life to our side.

Soon after daylight on the morning of Friday Oct 7th, we are told to dig a trench communicating with the "bomb-proof" shelter, so as to enable the wounded to pass along with comparative safety. 

We are working this in watches, one guns-crew being engaged in "digging" at a time. It is my watch off, and I am writing a letter to a friend of mine in L'pool. I am writing it on an ammunition box. 

I get about half way through this letter, when a whistle is blown, and we are told to "man the guns" again.

The Germans are about 6 or 700 yards away and advancing through the woods. I station my men at the guns, and finished my letter by scrawling something across the unwritten page. I address the dirty envelope and an officer posts it on his way to "headquarters".

We again retain our fire, and after they had approached sufficiently near enough, we gave them h--- again and they clear off.

All day, shells have been falling pretty thick in the town, and great walls of smoke are all around the horizon in our rear, also one of the"forts" on our left has been put out of action by the enemy artillery.

About 

5pm the main German Army has drawn decidedly nearer, due no doubt to the silencing of the Forts on our left.

Everything points to the fact that we are in for a very rotten time, as the enemy have opened fire in as close a proximity so as to set fire to the farmhouses in our rear, also both flanks. 

The light caused by the numerous fires lit up the surrounding country as day, causing anything or anyone passing along in the rear of the trenches, to be silhouetted very strongly against the horizon of fire.

Shrapnel is bursting all around us, it seemed that "H---" had again been let loose.

The scenery made by the Kaiser's "fireworks" was grand, and in spight of the fact that we were in a place where, - it was after (made clear to us, we were very lucky to escape from alive)

(It was after) made clear to us, we were very lucky to escape from alive, - yet one could not but help to admire the scene.

At 5.30pm, a request came along for volunteers for getting up more ammunition; for both A & B Company also for our "maxims".

I apply for the job and am fortunate enough to get accepted.

We requisition "wheelbarrows" for it was obvious that one would only be able to accomplish one journey, even if one proved successful, and set off.

We have about three-quarters of a mile to go, as the ammunition is stored in D. Company's "bomb-proof" shelter. 

On arriving abreast A Company's trenches, we are obliged to get in rear of them for had we proceeded in front along the road we should have undoubtedly been shot by our own

own men.

In getting on the field in rear of the trench, we are obliged to abandon our "wheel-barrows", and trust to human strength to get the heavy boxes back to "camp". The place itself was all this time being swept by continuous shellfire, it was glorious? It was impossible to take these "barrows" across these fields, as they were lined with cabbages and furrows.

Anyway, we arrived at our destination and applied for the ammunition - Belgians from out the disabled forts were lined up at the "loopholes", in company with our own men, they are firing rapidly at the Germans in the woods.

It was some time ere we obtained what we wanted, but I obtained a box containing one thousand rounds. This, I thought, 

would be very handy for our "maxims". It was devilish heavy, but under the circumstances it did not matter.

The remainder of the party - 5 other men, got some as well, and then commenced our journey back again.

In coming back I somehow lost the other men. They must have gone in rear of the farmhouse at least, that is my version, for I have never seen nor heard of the poor beggars any more, but anyway I found I was entirely alone when I gained the road leading in front of the farmhouse.

The only thing that looked lively was the bursting shrapnel which was bursting above and around me in grand style.

This road ran in front of the trenches and I knew that by keeping along 

it, I should gain my object much quicker than if I proceeded to it from the rear of the trenches.

At the same time, the fires on my right and the searchlights shining upon me from right ahead offered me as a splendid target for the infantry who were in the woods on my left or in front off the trenches. But either I bore a charmed life, or the Germans couldn't shoot straight, for nothing happened until I arrived at a place along the road, about quarter of a mile from my destination, then, suddenly a shell struck the road about 30 yards from my left shoulder.

At once something seemed to hurl the box I was carrying on my left shoulder, to the ground, for 

(I was just about) to leave it when someone shouted from behind; Is that an Englishman?

I answered in the affirmative and asked him to help to get this box upon my shoulder again.

He said, never mind that, I am going to tell the "Anson" to retire, as the Belgians have evacuated the forts. Anyway, just as we managed to swing it up again I spotted hundreds of men in the road above us. I at first thought the Germans had succeeded in cutting their way through, but upon arriving at the gap where they were streaming from, found that they were the Belgians leaving the last fort.

I plugged along back to our trench, and upon arriving there threw down my box of amm(unition.)

ammu) nition.

Just then, the Adjutant came up and told me that as yet, only one man had arrived back with ammunition. He brought back a box containing 500 rounds.

I shew him the hole made by the piece of a shell, he exclaimed - good God! Ashley, you've had a jolly narrow shave, and damn it, it's all for nothing too as we have got to retire, but anyway, fill your pockets with food and ammunition and do what you can to make that gun of yours useless.

I went along to it and stripped it of its vital parts putting the "lock" in my haversack, also the "tangent-sight" and fuse spring. The last two things I threw into the river Skelt but the "lock" I brought to England as a 

momento, and I still have it.

Before moving off I picked up a tin of bully-beef, and placed it in my haversack - this came in very handy indeed when we had entrained.

Just then the order came along to evacuate the trenches.

A Company moved out, and commenced to retire along the road to "Antwerp". A request was made by the "Adjutant" for volunteers to form the rearguard of course one could not refuse this, as it must promise more "sport", everyone of my guns-crews or what was left of them, volunteered and we fixed bayonets, also charged our magazines full.

At the same time, I, and the "Adjutant", kept behind, to keep an eye open for German cavalry; which we expected every moment, to come in our direction. 

We retired ourselves very slowly, in order to 

allow the "Battalion" to advance as far as possible in the direction of the "bridge" over the river Schelt. 

The country was lit up by the burning Anglo-American petrol tanks, which had been set on fire by shells, thousands of gallons of petrol, was in flames, and it reminded me of a sea of flames.

We had to pass very close to this conflagration in order to cross the "bridge". In passing this fire we came upon thousands of refugees - poor people, it brought a lump to many a throat, to see all those poor souls all tramping in the same direction, with but one object in view, - to get as far as possible from the advancing Germans.

It occurred to me, that could some of the people in England see all this suffering, they would cry out "coward" to every able-bodied, young man, who was 

not serving his country.

The heat caused by the flames was terrific, and I must admit, I thought there was the great possibility of it exploding the large amount of cartridges, that I was carrying in my right pocket of my greatcoat, also whilst passing, we had to unfix our bayonets, to prevent the flames from shining on the blade and so giving away our position.

All this time the "Huns" kept up a "searching" shell-fire, and it was whilst passing a street corner, that a shrapnel shell burst, causing the house to collapse which killed 7; and severely wounded 2 other men, who happened to be passing.

Upon arriving at the "bridge" a contrivance built on long rafters, with wood laid crosswise and supported by barges, guyed by wires. It was a 

magnificent piece of engineering as all the bridges crossing the Schelt had been blown up, and had it not been for these "bridges" we none of us would ever have escaped.

We proceeded to cross it; and upon gaining the other side, we halted, to get a "breather" before moving off again.

Whilst we had halted, the marines had crossed, and upon the last man coming over, it was immediately blown up.

We moved off again, the refugees following, it was then that I took a poor little kiddie from a weeping Mother who was doing her best to keep up with us.

The poor little beggar evidently seemed frightened of my black face, for I was compelled to return it to its Mother, owing to it crying, after carrying it about a mile.

Soon after leaving the river, we came 

to a street in which was stationed barrels of biscuit and pails of water, in passing these we would snatch a handful of biscuit, and contrive to fill as best as possible, our water-bottles.

After leaving this small town behind, we proceeded along the railway track for about three miles, and one could not help continually falling over the sleepers. 

Anyway, we came out upon a small town, where we called a halt. The place itself was thronged with British and Belgians. 

Interned in a house standing on the Market-place was a German spy, he seemed to have two or three bullet-marks, or stabs, spoke good English, and told me he had been working in America for some years.

He also knew what his fate was, for he was taken out and shot soon after.

After the halt was called, the same 

thing happened at that place, as in the case of every halt, all through this terrible retreat; the men dropped down in the muddy roads, and immediately fell asleep.  I this my haversack came in very handy - as a pillow.

After halting here for about 20 minutes, we "fell in" again and marched off, where we did not know, but at 12.30 that night another halt was called, and we drpped down alongside of the road.

It was pretty evident that something was seriously wrong, and about 15 minutes we heard a shot, and it was afterwards explained that our guide had been shot behind a haystack.

Upon his body was found a map of the country we were then in, with certain places marked off along the road, ahead of where we were marching.

It was only discovered in time, that, had we proceeded to march along the road about a mile 

further, we should have undoubtedly walked into an ambush of cavalry and machine guns, which the "huns" had waiting for us. 

The results would certainly have been disastrous, for all of us were in a terrible state, having practically no sleep, and very little to eat, for a week.

At 1.0 am we marched off again, but back along the road to where we had come, and we continued marching until about 9.0am when we, that had continued to push on, managed to get entrained, between St Nicolas, and the St Giles stations.

By this time the different Battalions had got mixed up, owing to men constantly falling down asleep through sheer exhaustion, by the roadside.

It seemed that at every yard, there were British or Belgians, all sleeping where they fell. 

I was invited by a very kind Belgian woman to have a cup of coffee, and a piece of toast 

was very welcome indeed.

The motor - omnibusses were at every chance flying past to pick up a cargow of exhausted men and I reached the siding where the train was waiting at 9.15am, and was fortunate enough to secure a seat on top of the second train, it was the last carriage as there was absolutely no room inside. 

At 9.20 we moved off, although very slowly, so slowly in fact that a man was running behind until we stopped at St Giles, where he managed to get a seat inside the rear buffer of the luggage van.

Another man, a marine, was stretched full length along the footboard.

Every station we arrived at, the Belgians brought us out baskets of food, and apples, also buckets of home-brewed beer. They treated us splendidly. I would be having forty winks, when a shower of apples,

etc would come flying down upon me, and with a hard apple hitting me on the head one usually gets a rude awakening.

About 4.30pm we rode into Bruges, ten or twelve miles from Ostende.

We disembarked, and marched through the town, where we dropped down on the stones in the market-place, when a halt was called.

We looked rather pitiable objects, for the majority of us had had no wash for a week, neither had we a shave. I had left my cap behind in the trenches, sticking upon the end of a stick, for the Germans to fire at, so consequently was bare-headed. A Belgian soldier took compassion upon me by giving me one of his caps, which fitted me about as much as would a pill-box fit an elephant.

Anyway, it served its purpose, the only drawback was that the Belgian girls took me for one of their 

own countrymen, and commenced the kissing and embracing sport, - of course that did it.

All this time my arm was paining me, and it was well nigh useless so when we marched off again - to a schoolroom where we were allowed to lay down upon the stones - I could only carry my rifle upon my right shoulder.

There was a devilish weight hanging to my shoulders, caused by my bandoliers, haversack, and the ammunition in my pockets. I carried my sword-bayonet in my leggings as we had no "frog" to carry it by.

Upon reaching the schoolroom, we were at once waited upon by Belgian refugees. A splendid bowl of soup was given us, also a piece of bread. The men were so sleepy, that their heads would practically fall down over the basin, as they were in the occupation of eating their 

soup.

Whilst marching out, we were given a small tin of sardines, for the following morning's breakfast.

That night, we slept in a R.C. School, and at 7.30am Reveille sounds, on the morning of the 9th Saturday.

After having breakfast, we clean and oil our rifles, and I counted my cartridges and found that I had carried from the trenches 482 rounds of ammunition, including the 10 rounds in my magazine.

Afterwards I joined up with the doctor's gang and remained with him for the remainder of the time. We waited on Bruges station all Saturday until 6pm when we embarked for Ostend hospital.

During the day, there were thousands of English troops, R Gls?, also guns passed through the station in the direction of Ghent.

On arriving at Ostend we had the pleasant experience of accompanying wounded 

men on stretchers through the town at 3.0am Sunday morning. 

A "red-cross" nurse carried my rifle for me.

Arriving at the Hospital, we were put to bed. I felt rather ashamed to turn into such a clean bed in the state I was in, but then it could not be helped, so I turned in, and slept the sleep of the "just" until 6.30am when I was called up to get my arm dressed, also a wash, which we were very much in need of.

At 10.30, word came through that all the English that could be moved must be got down to the S.S. "St David" lying down at the Ostende docks. Of course I had to accompany the wounded down to the ship where I arrived at about 12.0 noon. 

We left the harbour at about 4.30 in the afternoon enroute for Dover, which was reached at 6 pm the following 

afternoon.

There was a "special" waiting for us at Dover Pier, and at 7.30 we arrived at Sandwich station, from whence we marched to "Betteshanger Camp", arriving there at 11.30pm.

Immediately upon arriving, hot food was served to us, and after we had finished denim blankets, and waterproof sheets, were given to us, which after putting on the ground, and pulling the blankets about us, we were not very long ere we fell asleep and forgot that I had just succeeded in passing through the most "enjoyable" week of my life.

Yours truly

John Ashley.

in despatches 4 times, but when the "despatches" were made public another man's from the same guns-crew as myself - name appeared. 

The name was that of C.P.O. Payne, and it is common knowledge, that a very great mistake

The scrawled 1928 message is on the back of this. I assume this is at Abaden.

The original photo  was bigger - some of the written text has been lost.

Presumably it was cut to size to fit inside the booklet, for return to the owner.

- - -

The samples below suggest that the booklet was submitted for consideration of the claim, and that it was transcribed before being returned to the owner.

There are signs that the document has been transcribed. Scattered throughout are symbols to mark the place, such as [ above.

There is a change of ink part-way through.

The mark-ups are a different colour to both the original blue and this new ink that continues to the end of the book.

This is a clear sign that the document has been transcribed - a page number with a carat. None of the original pages are numbered.

Ashley had clearly stated that the "diary" was his personal property.

There is a name and address at the back of the book for return of the booklet.

It looks as if the diary was transcribed and returned to him.

This appears to be a much more recent mark-up. It's the only one of its kind in the diary.

The asterisk draws attention to the letter Ashley wrote to his friend in Liverpool after his dangerous reconnoitre into enemy territory. The letter was posted by an officer on his way to headquarters. 

Was a modern-day attempt made to find the letter? Presumably it would support Ashley's version of events.

I suspect the missing pages at the end of the booklet pointed to salient facts like the name of his friend and perhaps the "Adjutant", who is not named in his official account. He claims someone made a mistake; it probably wasn't the "Adjutant" if Ashley was, as he said, named in despatches before the list was published.

It appears that Payne started the message book when he was admitted to an American military hospital in 1916 after a gunshot wound to his arm. The one-sided conversation at the heart of the book takes place much later in March 1918, after he suffers severe head wounds at Ypres and is unable to talk. 

The first entries are the names and addresses of his next of kin.

Cpl G PAYNE 4796
A Coy 12th Rifle Brigade
B.E.F. 
France

Mrs Payne    (wife)
39 Chancellors Rd
Hammersmith
London 

Mr G Payne    (father)
97 Essex Place
Chiswick Park
London 

Mr D Richardson
67 Chancellors Rd
Hammersmith
London

Mrs Wager    (sister)
63 Carthew Rd
Hammersmith
London

Mrs Elmore
141 Greyhound Rd
Fulham
London

'22 years'         '3 years'
'10 this time'   'C of E'

'A Coy 12'

It's interesting that Payne says he's 22 when he's in hospital in March 1918.

His entry on the Silver War Badge Roll 1914-20 shows G.H. Payne 14796 enlisted on 10 December 1915 and was discharged on 1 February 1919. His age at discharge - 19.

I think 19 is a clerical error. 

His next of kin in 1916 was his wife. He is more likely to be 22.

This is the start of the one-sided conversation.

'It hit me silly when it hit'

'I do think I have lost my eye'

'Where we got to go'

Payne's injury has been dressed. His head is heavily bandaged; he cannot speak. He wants to know where they are taking him. 

The writing is much steadier. He is speaking to a fellow soldier.

'Got half my face off'

'Are you 61(2) Field'

Payne was with the Field Ambulance when he was hit. It's unclear who asked the question - maybe Attwell?

This is who I am.

'14796 L/cpl Payne'

'C C G'

Lance corporal George Henry PAYNE had service number 14796.

He was with the Royal Garrison Artillery, 12th Battalion, Rifle Brigade. It's unclear what CCG refers to.

Payne asks who he's speaking to

'Are you 61 Field'

Payne names one of his mates, Charlie Yard. 

'Charlie Yrag'

What follows is poignant. Payne is unrecognisable, even to a fellow soldier.

'You know me'

'Where is Charlie'

He describes what happened to him, and where it happened.

'I got my face smashed'

'Just before we left that trench to run into the village . . .'

'. . . again the cemetry

I thought it had done for me when it hit me'
_____________________________

There's a pause as blood starts seeping through the bandages.

'It only the blood coming through my mouth'

A nurse is summoned - the handwriting is different:

It will have to be redressed here
____________

Payne is relieved.

'hope so'

Payne explains who he was with when it happened.

'I was with the abulance at Teby Fram Ypre'

I was with the ambulance at .... Farm Ypres

'2 years S.B'

He's spent the last two years with the Siege Battery.

'12 R.R'

He was with the 12th Battalion of the Royal Rifles
 

'Rifle B'

with the Rifle Brigade.

'Ticket this time or it will not be my fault'

This should be his ticket home, or he'll want to know why.

'He got all round us and we started to retire and as I was running from the trench to get into the village I got it'

'I met our boys coming across the road'

'I never should have been there at all this morning.'

Payne had been moved to the Field Ambulance after his arm was damaged in August 1916. The Rifle Brigade was in retreat and could take their wounded with them - in an attack they had to continue the attack and call the field ambulance for the wounded.

'I think we will have a good chance while this lasts.'

'I went down on my back.'

'I thought it was all up.'

'It was lucky it was no higher it would have smashed my brains out.'

'If I get home I am having a good try for my check.'

'I think I am blind in the right eye.'

From the photo, it appears to be his left eye. He is still in shock.

'Shearer got killed in the '(trench.)

Shearer was killed in the trench - hit by a bullet. We find out later that Shearer was his mate.

'Bullet.'

He (Payne) had been wounded before at Ypres, in August. That wound was not bad enough to be sent home, even though he had a piece of muscle knocked out of his arm. Now he has half his face 'knocked off'.

'Wounded in August at Ypre did not get home' 

'Piece knocked out of the muscle of my right arm.'

'Now half my face knocked off'

He'd been caught up in the retreat since last Wednesday. He was wounded 'just now'.

'been through the retirement since last Wednesday and I got hit just now'

He asks for the soldier's details.

'What Div and reg'

This is the entry that gives context. It's elsewhere in the book among the roll calls and requisitions lists. It's important because it gives Shearer's service number.

'Shearer got killed in the trenches. Bullet'

'Shearer got killed'

Shearer was killed, so his details are on the Commonwealth War Graves Commission (CWGC) site.

The service number 10528 is the key to finding the right entry.

Rifleman Lawrence SHEARER S/10528 of the 12 Battalion Rifle Brigade was killed in action on 19 March 1918 and is remembered on the Pozieres Memorial.

Shearer enlisted on 10 May 1915 and embarked for France on 30 November 1915.

So perhaps Payne knew about Loos from his mate Shearer. He wasn't there himself - he enlisted on 10 December 1915 according to the Silver War Badge Roll.

Shearer was treated for gas poisoning on 1 September 1916 at the same time Payne was in hospital with a gunshot wound to his arm.

In March 1918 they were both wounded in the same retreat near Ypres, Shearer fatally.

Payne draws a sketch to show where it happened, marking the groups of trees, the village and the cemetery.

'We were in the same trench as you this morning'

'Trees' 'Trees'

'village'                

'Forty'              'Villoy  '

'Trees'

'cemetry'

At Mons, soldiers were killed by friendly fire when shots from the artillery fell short. Payne believes the same thing happened here. Their own artillery was firing over their heads to give them cover as they retreated, with tragic results when the barrage fell short.

His dramatic claim is repeated later in the book.

'I do not think the Mons affair was in as we were getting knocked out by our own guns'

'when there was any'
'Sunday'

The critical day of the Battle of Loos was 25 September 1915.

'Loos on the 25 Sept was a cake walk to this'

Payne draws sketches to show how he thinks the retreating troops should fall back.

'What they want to do is to retire all along and not make a line like this'  He draws a squiggly line.
'Sunday'

He draws a different sketch. Are the stragglers in the line of fire?

'I had the glasses on him all day but I have just lost my mate who had them down there' 

I think his mate was Shearer. He mentions several times that Shearer was killed in the same action as he (Payne) was injured. 

'They should have withdraw(n) us last night' 

Payne explains how he got here - by train to the Casualty Clearing Station.

'train C.C.S'

'Lint'

A medico asks about his wounds.

'I think it is alright it was dressed at two places on the way'

down.'

Payne questions the medical orderly / nurse / doctor.

'Will they have to sew it up or put a piece in'

He knows the options because he was wounded before, when he lost a piece of muscle from his arm.

'I see some of that draft is wounded'

He asks to be kept informed about his mates who are wounded.

'You know my address'

The page with his address is torn off, just in case they don't have his address.

He makes friends with a fellow wounded soldier. 

'If I get home. I will go and see your people if I am lucky enough to get home.'

'If I get home when you come home on pass'

If they don't send you home, come and see me when you're home on leave.

'if you do not get home with this you must come and see me but I hope we both get home together.'

They discuss the weapons left behind during the retreat.

'All that S.A.A and booms that were left at Roupy'

What Division of the Shropshire Light Infantry are you in?

'What Div Shrops'

'In front of that village in front of that cemetry'

That's where it happened.

There is a small leather pouch tucked into the front pocket of the message book.

It contains a lens suitable for use as reading glasses.

Payne wore reading glasses - but with his head heavily bandaged these are no longer practicable.

Perhaps the Army supplied this lens. It would certainly help with reading, but writing would still be a challenge to focus.

'Shearer got killed.' Shearer was his mate.

They compare wounds - Payne offers sympathy.

'That will take a bit of taking off'

They discuss glasses. Payne's left eye is heavily bandaged.

'Throw them away.'

'Mine are a better pair than yours without  L it is'

'Have them' 

He offers to have the watch fixed.

'If we get on the same ward and if I go home I will take that watch for you and they can send it out'

Payne has handed in his gas helmet to Petts, along with all the silk cards he has rescued.

'My gas helmet that Petts has was full of silk cards that came out of the boys letters what I saved. I have. . .'

Payne has rescued a lot of silk cards that were meant to be sent home to loved ones. He keeps a register of who owns what.

'a register here for yard (Charlie Yard) for 1 Pound' 

'Do not know.'

'I am going to send it on'

'Summer and Winter suits.'

'I was with them w Railway men'
_____________________

'If you are lucky you will get home as soon as that card'
_______________________

When he was injured in August he was hit at 10 o'clock on the Sunday and the message arrived in London at 5 o'clock Monday.

'When I got hit on 6th 8 16 I was hit at 10 Sund and in London 5 on Mond '

_____________________________

Payne received a gunshot wound to his arm on 6 August 1916. He was sent to Unit H.10 of the American Expeditionary Force Hospital in France (the address is elsewhere in the book).
 

'When I got hit last August I got to a Yankee Hosp but did not get home 6 weeks'

'they kept us there for experiments'

Payne was missing a piece of muscle from his arm. The Americans may have been looking at whether it was better to sew it up or leave the wound open and clean. The second option would take much longer.

'the quarter has got your address for sending letters back'

'My face is bleeding again.'

'Petts cards'

These are the silk cards that Payne rescued. He gave them to Petts with his gas helmet.

- - - - -

Perhaps a nurse is summoned for the bleeding, and asks who he is and when he was admitted, or when the dressing was last changed. Payne says he's 22 years old and has been serving for 3 years (he enlisted in 1915). He's Church of England. He's with A Company of the 12th Battalion.

'Last night'

'22 years'         '3 years'
'10 this time' 'C of E'

'A Coy 12'

The bandages around his head are blood-soaked and stiff. They will be difficult to remove.

'You will have to soak it off'

'I had a look at my face last night and it is worse than I thought it was.' 

'If I do it will not be my fault if I come out again.' 

'He wants any men who can do dressing.'

'Sgt Moon killed.'

'Sgt Froud.'

'We had a draft of 34 about two days ago. First time out 19.'

'Have you heard how they got on here.'

'Give me a piece of lint to go round my mouth to keep the cold out.'

'Got a feeding cup.'

His head is heavily bandaged, with his mouth nearly shut. He is fed from a cup.

'14796 L/cpl Payne G'

'R.B.'

Rifle Brigade
'Harry Alrytt'

'This seems a rotten hole not much chance for home'

'Did you see the boys come out'

'Yes on Wednesday night I saw them come out while I was in the lorry'

'That's when I got it just as we were retiring through that village'

'Its made a mess of my face I had a look at it last night'

'Know his face'

'Wylat orderly corporal before I took'

'Timmins, Owen and Jones was alright'

'I dared think there is much luck to get home from here.'

'They said in our place we may get away tomorrow.'

'I think they will have to put me in a hospital because I cannot eat the food here'

'You will get home all right.'

'I am not sweating'

'M Bidwell M.L. Timmins was there'

'on Thursday. Jim was at detail'

Payne is convinced he was hit by friendly fire. 

'I think it was the base that hit me'

He asks a fellow soldier about his wounds, and discuss how others have fared..

'did you get buried in that village at Nieuil'

The citation for Robert Pearce's DCM (elsewhere on this site) mentions the town of Nereuil. That may be the reference here.

'Wednesday 4  D coy Qld left'

'Dudley was alright when he passed me in the lorry'

'You got a spare book'

'When did you leave them'

'21st when we just arrived there.'

'What list are you in'   '25'

This is the last page as he writes from the back of the book towards the middle.

He needs a new book to continue the conversation.