|Sergeant FCJ Wood, photographed |
late in the war
But this blog post is about the experiences of just one man amidst all of that upheaval. One decent, ordinary man: a man of his time, who signed up to do his patriotic duty for King and country: one small piece of the gigantic machine that built up to and culminated in the Battle of the Somme. He survived that battle, suffering a 'Blighty injury' in the latter stages of the campaign, but returned to front later in the war, and was awarded medals for bravery in the line.
I should declare an interest. He was my wife's grandfather - and recently I traced his steps across Flanders and Picardie from 1915 to 1916.
Frederick Charles John Wood was born in 1895 in South East London. His military record does not record his parents’ occupations, but this was a working class family living in Eltham. As a boy, Fred must have been attracted by all that emanated from the nearby mighty arsenal and weapons depot at Woolwich, because on 17/6/12 he joined the Territorials. He enlisted in the 6th Company of the London Royal Field Artillery Brigade, giving his age as 18yrs exactly (he was just turning 17). He was listed as a preliminary trainee, and his occupation as a plumber's mate. He took his oath of faith to the King - named as Edward VII on the official paper but scratched out in favour of George V.
At the outbreak of war two years later, he was promoted to Assistant Bombardier on 26/8/14 and then, almost as he received his call up papers, was made Bombardier on 26/9/14. His call up paper is interesting, the "Agreement to be made by an officer or man of the Territorial Force to subject himself to liability to serve in any place outside the United Kingdom in the event of National Emergency." It was countersigned by his officer at the nearby RFA Station at Plumbsted (sic).
It seems that Fred was occupied in preparation and training exercises in England for much of 1915, while the desperate battles of Neuve-Chapelle, Aubers Ridge, Festubert and Loos were raging. However, at the beginning of October his battalion crossed to France and a year of intense activity began (see map). In the sense that he had joined in 1912 as a Territorial he was not one of 'Kitchener's army' - the million plus civilians who had flooded the recruitment offices in autumn 1914 in response to Kitchener's famous call. But he was decidedly part of the Kitchener army that left home shores in late 1915 to prepare for the big push of 1916.
From this point onwards he kept a diary - still in the family's possession - in (now) faded pencil on squared A5 paper. (Strange to hold it, knowing that it made those journeys across so many mangled sectors of the Western Front.)
Within 2 days of landing at Le Havre, he and his company boarded cattle trucks on 4th October 1915 for an eleven hour train journey to Amiens, twenty miles behind the front (a 115 miles journey that can be covered in two hours by road today). On 9/10/15 they moved forward to Thievre (numbered 1 on map), a billet five miles behind the line; and the following day their 'wagon train' moved on to Hebuterne (2), immediately behind the line at the northern end of the Somme battlefront. This was the time when the British were taking over more of the front to give the French some relief. Hebuterne itself had been the site of vicious fighting and very heavy French casualties earlier in the year in the second Battle of Artois (see Blog 4/6/2015 Allied offensives in Champagne and Artois). More recently the area had stabilised and was now known as a quiet sector, with an unspoken 'live and let live' policy between the French and German trenches.
The British Generals determined to put an end to this, and
Fred's company and the rest of the field artillery were kept busy from 11-19th October supporting constant forays and raids on German trenches by the
infantry. His diary records that on 25/10 his battalion was inspected by King
George V and the French President, Poincare.
|A proud moment - to be inspected |
by the King
After further training behind the lines, his company was moved to the north to support the established forces there. From the large railhead at Pont Remy (3), on the Somme river, they were entrained on 11/12/15, arriving at Aire-sur-Lys (4) on the same day. He spent two months in this sector, including Christmas at Laventie (5) close to the La Boissee canal. In 1915 there was none of the fraternisation that had marked the first Christmas of the war, and it sounds like Fred enjoyed a bleak and cheerless white Christmas. He moved back to the front line at Loos (6) on 16/1/16, operating field artillery from the remnants of that shattered town (See Blog 'Battle of Loos' 6/10/15) .
On 25/2 Fred was transported back from Lillers (7) to Pont Remy(3). The next three months were spent in further training for the Somme offensive. He gained instruction in signalling and communications – two areas of great weakness in the British army. He describes some hair-raising journeys across country with his horse in driving snow during that time. Life was tough and the demands seem unrelenting, even away from the front line.
|Fred's diary: First entry starts|
Oct 4th. Left Havre for Amiens
in cattle trucks.....
In early May, as the big day drew nearer, the battalion was moved back to its original position at Hebuterne, returning to very different conditions of extensive preparation. Fred’s company moved backwards and forwards across that sector, between Hebuterne, Sailly au Bois and near to Gommecourt, before digging in to semi permanent positions near Sailly during June (8). He was involved in heavy action on 15th May for which he was recommended for the Distinguished Conduct Medal (DCM). He was in action for two full days of the seven day pre Somme bombardment, and for the whole of the murderous first day of the battle – July 1st. His diary entry:
“…the burst lasted for seven days till July 1st which we termed Z day when the boys went over the top and in our sector was the London Scottish Rangers and Fusiliers and they made very good progress but could not do much as Fritz had concentrated all his artillery on Gommecourt and Serre and I saw the advance myself and nearly got killed when out of my lines and oh the sights I saw wounded of all descriptions and shells bursting all over the place. Horses and wagons lying all over the place, wounded, fainting and it lasted in all a day in which we wore our guns out, and serviced them”
Mercifully for Fred and his mates, they were relieved and sent to the rear to recover after that terrible day. On August 2nd he was promoted to Corporal, and spent the next three weeks in that stalemated northern section of the battle. He describes the awful sight, followed through his signalling telescope, of a colleague whose parachute failed to open when he plunged from a kite balloon observing enemy positions. On August 28th they received morale boosting news, dropped from an aircraft, of Roumania’s entry to the war and Italy’s declaration of war on Germany.
On September 1st the final phase of Fred’s year in action began, with a transfer to the south east of the line via Ovillers and Bois de Hardicourt (9). He passed through Mash Valley below Ovillers, the site of massacres through July, and describes a gruesome passage through Trones Wood (by now behind the British front line) on 10th September: “a terrible sight of dead germans and british all over the place, and a Hun 77th mortar battery wiped to hell, found a water bottle and a cap of ammo and a German rifle, and fritz made a counter attack and got repelled.” He was in constant action from 11th to 20th September, and his diary records many friends injured and killed. Another move came on 22/9, to the extreme right of the British line, linking up with French artillery on the advance from Ginchy and Guillemont towards Combles and Morval (10). A particularly violent action on 25th September resulted in men and horses around him being blown up and seven close friends being killed.
Reinforcements arrived on 3rd October, and you can sense his pride that they included hardened veterans of the Royal Field Artillery who had been involved in the Great Retreat of 1914. On 10th he suffered his ‘Blighty’ injury, severe damage to his leg, behind the contested village of Morval, and received his second commendation for a DCM. He spent one week in a field hospital, before being transferred back to a hospital on the coast at Ault, prior to transport back to England (11).
There is now a gap in his military records - like so many others that were lost or damaged in Luftwaffe air raids on London in WW2 - and no diary to help us. It’s known that he returned to the western front, but not where, or in what capacity. He had continuing disability from his leg, and may not have been in front line action. He was promoted to sergeant in 1917, awarded the Military Medal for bravery, and his military discharge record confirms him as a member of the BEF from 3/10/15 to 20/11/18. He was discharged from service on 22/3/19 and demobilised on 10/9/19. He was awarded a 20% disablement pension from 3/9/19. This was for the princely sum of 6s 6d (37.5p) per week, to be reviewed in 9 weeks!
After his discharge, he resumed his occupation as a plumber; married Trinity Irene Carter, and they had two children, June (b1923) and Frederick (b1929). Like so many he would not talk about his war experience - except in occasional reunions with his old pals, where reminiscences with people who could comprehend the horror of it all must have been helpful. In WW2, he was a senior member of the Home Guard from 1941-44. He died of cancer in 1958, aged only 63.
All I can do is pay tribute to this unsung, typically brave man, and feel pride that my son had such a great great-grandfather.