I have shot a Duke

THE YEAR ENDED in a climax of suffering. The narratives of wartime lend themselves easily to hyperbole, but there is no doubt that the last days of 1915 and the first of the New Year saw an explosion of outrage, aggression and loss.

This edge of intensity erupted after Christmas. On 28 December, vigorous artillery activity was recorded along the entire western front, unhappily on the same day which marked the departure of the Indian Corps. Two days later, five German mines exploded north of Loos, inevitably occasioning British casualties. In the east, an attack by the Russians on the Austrians in northern Bukovina on 27 December heralded the start of heavy fighting in the region, and also at the River Styr in Galicia at Chartoryskit, destined to last for many weeks yet.

The only respite, and it was entirely relative, came in Serbia, where an end of the terrible suffering endured by soldiers, medical staff and civilians who had trekked through the mountains was at last in sight. The soldier Flora Sandes and Serbian troops reached the Adriatic coast on 31 December, a few days after Major Stobart and her convoy had arrived in Scutari. They would have to await rescue by Allied ships.

For those engaged, such sorrows felt only chaotic. In truth, however, grand designs were emerging. The British and French were determined to cooperate in the New Year more willingly and to better effect. Kitchener’s instructions to Haig on 28 December were to support and cooperate with the French and Belgian armies with a view to driving the Germans out and eventually restoring the neutrality of Belgium. He insisted “To achieve that end, the closest cooperation of France and Britain as a united Army must be the governing policy”. Nonetheless, he insisted, “your command is an independent one, and that you will in no case come under the orders of any Allied General further than the necessary cooperation with our Allies mentioned above.”

He was preaching to the converted. Haig was anxious to work closely with the French and had already invited the French Head of Mission, General des Valieres to attend the daily briefings of staff officers that Haig would give whenever he was at HQ; ‘I pointed out that I am not under General Joffre’s orders, but that would make no difference, as my intention was to do my utmost to carry out General Joffre’s wishes on strategical matters, as if they were orders.’

Thus was the future which led to Verdun and the Somme set in motion. More generally, the power dynamics within British High Command were quietly revolutionised. Haig was part of that story, of course, but so was Robertson, recently appointed by HM Government as Chief of the Imperial General Staff. Haig’s role was on the western front, but Robertson’s was to ensure a coherence of both strategy and operations in all theatres of war.

These were formidable briefs, and the appointment of both men inevitably reflected a growing dissatisfaction with Lord Kitchener, Secretary of State for War. As an old soldier, his prestige was immense but, as a politician, his administration was hopeless and he was unable to stop himself interfering into matters way outside his remit. According to Lord Esher ‘General Robertson wished to have it clearly understood that the responsibility for operations on all fronts should be placed on the Chief of Imperial Staff; that the reports from the armies in the fields should be sent direct to him and not to the Army Council; that orders to the Armies in the field should go out under his signature; and that he should be the sole adviser of the War Council on operations.’ Clearly the personal rule of Kitchener as Secretary of State for War was now over, as Kitchener himself acknowledged when he eventually and reluctantly acquiesced: ‘I hope Robertson understands that, much as I dislike the plan, now that I have agreed, I mean to carry it out.’

This determination to adapt to new and unappetising truths was experienced also at home. As more than a million single men had failed to register under the Derby Scheme, the Government was forced to acknowledge that compulsion was now essential to a successful conduct of the war. A Military Service Bill was drafted which would compel all single men between the ages of 18 and 41 to attest their preparedness to be called up. As expected, this caused a split in the Liberal-dominated Cabinet, with the Home Secretary, Simon, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, McKenna, and even the Foreign Secretary, Grey, all threatening to resign in protest. Hearing this, the King cut short his holiday at Sandringham to see the Prime Minister on 30 December, assuring him that ‘he would stand by him and support him, even if all his colleagues were to leave’. After passionate pleas from Asquith (and his wife) only Simon resigned and the government held on.

Clear-headed thinking also now prompted the Cabinet to abandon its last foothold in the Dardanelles at Cape Helles. Oc Asquith had written from there to his stepmother Margot on 29 December lauding the qualities of his men in the Hood Division who ‘have been wonderfully cheerful and brave — wet through sometimes for 3 days on end and no fires or hot food: mud, and daily casualties from shells’ and describing how ‘one of my men bandaged three others before he fainted: he had not mentioned that he was badly wounded in the thigh.’

A secret memorandum dated 30 December was issued from the headquarters of the 8th Army Corps laying down the general principles for the total evacuation of the peninsula which had finally been sanctioned by the Cabinet on 28 December:

The evacuation of the position at CAPE HELLES will take place at a very early date which will be notified to all concerned as soon as it is settled….

During the first period, which will commence at once, all sick and weakly men and all superfluous material, transport, stores, supplies and ammunition will be removed, leaving only sufficient to maintain a minimum garrison in our present position for a period of one week….

The final period will last 48 hours during the first night of which all personnel and material will be removed except such numbers as can be taken off in one night by the Navy…

The 15pr. guns of each group will continue to fire at a normal rate till the hour notified for their destruction…….

Arrangements must be made beforehand to:

Destroy all guns both at their present positions, and at the Beach. Each gun must, if orders for destruction are issued, be so completely blown to bits as to prevent its use to the enemy even as a trophy…

Every precaution must be taken to avoid straggling, or men being left behind, every detachment and other party must be checked before embarkation.

The previous day, the 52nd Lowland Division had attacked and captured a portion of Turkish trenches, holding off a series of counter-attacks and providing evidence of a continuing campaign, giving commanders time to organise the evacuation. The following day, the last units of the Indian Expeditionary Force left Helles for Egypt. The Times of 1 January 1916, reporting on the earlier evacuation claimed that: ‘By cutting our losses here we do something towards acting with greater deliberation and in better organized strength elsewhere.’

Retribution now threatened those officers who had turned a blind eye to troops fraternising with the enemy on Christmas Day. General Rawlinson peremptorily demanded to know exactly what orders had been issued to whom and how: ‘What exactly were the orders issued by the officers commanding 1st Scots Guards, 2nd Scots Guards and 1st Coldstream Guards? How were they made known to the Companies and by them to the men?’

The week’s casualties included cruel losses at sea — in one case, losses incurred in harbour. The disaster occurred on 30 December when HMS Natal sank five minutes after an explosion, with ‘Flames ..coming up around the foot on the mainmast, the searchlight covers on the mainmast were burning and also parts of the rigging. There was also dense cordite smoke.’

The warrior-class armoured cruiser was berthed in Cromarty Firth and, intensifying the tragedy, the explosion happened while officers’ wives, three nurses and at least one small boy were being entertained to lunch with crew members in the Ward Room while the ship’s band played outside. As the exact number of visitors on board was not known the casualty count ranged from 390 to 421 deaths. Despite an immediate search for enemy submarines, there was never any evidence of enemy action and the tragedy would be attributed to a fatal spark igniting inflammable material under the shell-room or magazine, causing the explosion.

That same day, the P & O liner SS Persia was torpedoed off Crete. The venerable liner was on the ‘Empire Run’ from London to Bombay, having already accomplished 70 return journeys, and the loss of 334 lives was testimony to the diabolical skill and ruthlessness of U-boat commander, Max Valentiner. Without first offering any warning, his U-38 torpedoed the passenger liner at lunchtime — one lucky survivor mentioned that he ‘had just finished two anchovies on toast’ when the explosion rocketed through the ship. After about thirty hours, 167 survivors were picked up and taken to Alexandria and Malta. Amongst them was Lord Montagu of Beaulieu whose secretary and mistress, Eleanor Thornton, (the model for the Rolls-Royce ‘Spirit of Ecstasy’ mascot) did not survive.

The victims included American citizens including the US Consul at Aden, Robert McNeely. There was an outcry in the press in both Britain and America, since the sinking was a clear breach of international law.

The scale of the war, and its moments of eccentricity, were both visible during the week with the reappearance of Richard Meinertzhagen, an upper-class British officer of German-Danish extraction, last seen at the ‘Battle of the Bees’ at Tanga late in 1914. He now found himself leading a small patrol through the bush searching for the maverick German commander Lettow-Vorbeck who had been evading pursuit in East Africa whilst also inflicting casualties on the pursuers.

Finally, on Christmas Day, Meinertzhagen and his soldiers managed a hit-and-run raid when they came across the German camp. Back at his base in Karungu three days later, he recorded:

At 5pm we located four tents, fires burning and, by the mercy of God, no precautions, no sentries and men lounging about. The country was good for stalking and ……we rushed them silently from not more than a few paces. We used bayonets only and I think we each got our man…..I rushed into the officers’ tent, where I found a stout German on a camp bed. On a table was a most excellent Christmas dinner. I covered him with my rifle and shouted to him to hold his hands up. He at once groped under his pillow and I had to shoot, killing him at once. My shot was the only one fired.

We now found we had seven unwounded prisoners, two wounded and fifteen killed, a great haul. I at once tied up the prisoners whilst Drought did what he could for the wounded. We covered the dead with bushes and I placed sentries round the camp and sent out a patrol of three men. Drought said he was hungry, so was I, and why waste that good dinner? So we set to and had one of the best though most gruesome dinners I have ever had, including an excellent Xmas pudding. The fat German dead in bed did not disturb us in the least, nor restrain our appetites. After that excellent meal, I searched the German’s kit: I have shot a Duke, the first Duke I have killed. His luncheon basket was a most elaborate arrangement, with plated dishes and cutlery, all marked with a coronet. These Drought and I purloined, thinking it a pity to leave them to be looted by the natives. We cleared out after dark, but were unable to bury the bodies, having no tools with which to dig. With our prisoners we marched till midnight and…….reached here without incident yesterday afternoon.

Having combined the assassination of a member of the high aristocracy with a first-class luncheon, Meinertzhagen returned to Nairobi. On New Year’s Day, he witnessed the arrival of South Africans, former enemies during the Boer Wars but now keen to help Britain in removing Germany from Africa with a view to gaining territory for themselves.

Their commander was General Van Deventer who was, Meinertzhagen considered:

a fine figure of a man. He fought against us during the South African War. Van Deventer talks with a husky voice, the result of a British bullet in his throat in 1900. I spoke to many officers and men. They all seem quite confident that they will finish the campaign in a few months. I tried to explain to them that they had not the slightest idea of the climatic and health difficulties, neither had any of them any experience of fighting in thick bush. They smiled and told me I did not understand the Boer. If that is typical of their spirit, I admire it. The Boers are a fine virile race and well deserve full expression of their national spirit.

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Richard Meinertzhagen[/caption]

Meinertzhagen’s insouciance must have been irresistible, but it was untypical. Sister Edith Appleton, writing her diary at Etretrat, showed an uncommon skill in recreating the textures of the abnormal courage shown by very normal men and women — but also the capacity to find enjoyment and humour in challenging circumstances.

December 27 Tonight there was a concert at the casino, which was quite good. Captain Johnson — one of our MOS who is a New Zealander — -trained a gang of orderlies to do a Maori Haka dance, all with their faces made up…I expect the orderlies felt a bit shy about it. There was a hospital sketch too, taking off everyone — Colonel, Major, the MOs, us, the orderlies — which was much enjoyed.

January 2 Went to church tonight and early this morning too, but our padre is not a success — he has no brain, poor dear. He prays and reads and preaches on one doleful note. Tonight he took as his text ‘Spare me, that I may brighten up’ — which everyone thought he should apply to himself. When he was at our New Year’s party, he was seen absent-mindedly sitting directly under the mistletoe. When, by people’s glances, he noticed it, he was too shy to move away at once, so did it by edging off, inch by inch, and then making a bolt for it.

Appleton herself was as brave as anyone, and had just been mentioned in Despatches. Another diarist, Vera Brittain, was also trying to wrest the courage to deal with the sudden loss of her fiancé on 23 December.

New Year’s Eve 11.55 This time last year He was seeing me off on Charing Cross Station ……and I had only just begun to realise I loved Him. Today he is lying in the military cemetery at Louvencourt –because a week ago He was wounded in action, and had just 24 hours of consciousness more and then went ‘to sleep in France’. And I, who in impatience felt a fortnight ago that I could not wait another minute to see Him, must wait till all Eternity. All has been given me, and all has been taken away — in one year.

So I wonder where we shall be — what we shall all be doing — if we all still shall be — this time next year.

At one moment, young men might be hale and hearty, mainly well-fed and often in tolerable spirits. A split second later, thanks to the deathly qualities of a high velocity bullet or explosive shell (or, much more rarely, of sharpened steel), agony and death supervened. A letter from Lance Corporal Reuben Elliott, 9th Battalion, East Surrey Regiment, with the BEF in France written to his parents on 27 December 1915 testifies to the pain occasioned by this lurching uncertainty.

Xmas has passed once again & I was thinking of you all at home. Well, how did you spend your Xmas? Very happy & cheerful I hope. Well Mum & Dad I will try and relate my little Xmas time. I was on the go from 6 o’clock in the morning getting the dinner ready for the boys, we had chicken for dinner & potatoes and Xmas pudding, we decorated the café inside & out and it looked like Christmas at home, we borrowed a long table & forms, plates, knifes & forks etc and sat down to dinner in style, the officers brought us a barrel of Beer, and bottles of Rum and they also sat down to dinner with us. We all (NCOs) gave a toast to the officers & they returned, and the boys stood up & sang “He’s a jolly good fellow” and we all spent a very happy Xmas under the conditions, and finished up at ten o’clock. Then I went to bed and had a quiet smoke and I could imagine you all at home and sorry to say I wondered so, that I had a good cry. I could see you all at home sitting round the fire, and plenty of singing & dancing and everything for your comfort and there was I bundled up in a couple of blankets in an old barn, and only too glad to have that to sleep in, but still better days in store……Wishing you all a Happy New Year. Trusting you are all in the best of health.

Your loving son Reuben

P.S. Fags are short

Love & kisses to all at home.