Harrogate Herald - 17th February 1915

Dear Chaps, 

You will remember that the Spofforth authorities ordered street lights out at night in the village after the Zeppelin raid. You must know Spofforth wants to obtain a water supply. They are inclined to have it from Harrogate, but Wetherby claims the right to supply Spofforth. The other night a parish meeting was held at Spofforth to consider the question. At that meeting someone referred to the "lights out" business. As he seems anxious that you boys should know that Spofforth has recovered its equanimity I give his words, which were as follows :

The Editor of the Knaresborough Post evidently treats the matter as a joke. In his letter to the boys at the Front, he mentions it in a rather sarcastic vein and asks them not to laugh. Perhaps he will now inform then at Spofforth has got over its fright and that the little paragraph in the Knaresborough Post has perhaps had a good deal to do with allaying their fears. At any rate the Parish Council for a week have had a rough time, and were evidently glad to get rid of the "no-light" bogey.

In returning by the 3.25pm Great Northern train from London on Wednesday night, I met a man from the Front you might know. He was shown into the compartment of a through carriage to Harrogate, in the course of the journey, and was told he would get through without changing. I knew by that he was one of our boys. I let him get his breath, then spoke to him.

It was Sergeant Cunningham, of the 2nd West Yorkshires. He was going to see his mother, who lives at Studley Roger, Ripon. When he discovered I was a Press man he closed tight, remarking : "We are not allowed to tell anything". I told him the Press Censor kept us well supplied with confidential letters, instructing us what not to publish, and that I should not seek any information the Press was not permitted to print. He thawed, smiled pleasantly, as our boys do, and answered my questions. Thus I am able to tell you something about him. "Never so fit in my life," said he. "We are not short of anything, have all we want and more". To hear him speak of the way the boys were fed, clothed, and looked after in every way, made my interior warm with pride and satisfaction. The pride I felt was in him. His downright, genuine honesty and appreciation. No grousing about anything. Excusing and explaining away discomforts, I mentioned, with light-hearted generosity, even the weather, the wet, etc., he presented nothing but sunshine, not a cloud on his honest, intelligent, brown face. He would not even speak against the German foes - one remark in this direction alone did he utter, and that was : "You cannot trust them!" Even this he said regretfully rather than angrily.

I discovered he had been eighteen years in the Regular Army (had three more to serve), and yet he looked a young man. Two years he spent in India, the rest in Malta and other military stations. He was withy the International force in the Balkans, twelve months, during the previous trouble there. It is a peculiar and admirable trait of our boys that they do not hate their foes, as people naturally suppose they do. They show no anger regarding them outside business hours. They are too genial and generous to bear malice, and yet when it comes to fighting they do fight for the honour of their country. Yes, Tommy is a peculiar mixture, but a good one. Life would be the better if civilisation were more largely imbued with it.

Apparently our people have been rather lenient with the snipers. Cunningham told us of a case wherein a sniper could not at first be located. The officers suspected a man, apparently an agricultural labourer, who was ploughing in a field. He was watched. Caught in the act. He had a rifle fixed to his plough. That man was merely taken prisoner. I should have been disposed to find a shorter way. Appoint his immediate funeral and see that he was ready. Yet, I suppose, we ought to emulate the Germans. Perhaps it is better to err on the side of leniency. We at home, however, are inclined to feel rather vindictive. Like the hen with chickens. We ruffle our feathers at the sight of danger to our boys at the Front and on the seas. If any of them are hurt we feel the pain. Thus acute is our sympathy.

My informant seemed to think that German shells of late have lacked explosive force. Perhaps they are not as well stuffed as they were. We are under the impression that the enemy is running short of many things. At all events they have advised their children to do without meat at the midday meal! Cunningham was in no manner of doubt as to the superiority of our guns, and as for bayonet work, the enemy cannot stand the British boys at close quarters. They are limp at the first sight of English steel. He does not believe those accounts of fraternising with the enemy on Xmas Day. He saw and heard nothing of the kind in his trenches. The Germans snipe our boys if they go out to succour even the German wounded, he said. The "Jack Johnsons" are of no use save to go at fortifications, I understood; whilst the howitzers made "a big cry for very little wool".

Going up to town on Tuesday I met two other soldiers, and as they talked freely to each other and us, they were instructive and entertaining. The older man had served three years in the Army, became a reservist, and was called up for the war. he was in the Scots Guards. Had the third finger of the left hand shot off and was just out of hospital. He was on his way to present himself to the Army surgeon to see whether he was to go to the Front or back home on leave. Who do you think he was? A barber who once worked for Mr Bellerby, hairdresser, Harrogate, and was last employed by a Ripon barber. A good sort of chap, this, with a well-set-up frame, a gentle voice and indulgent smile. I am sure he is not ready for the Front. He has not recovered the free use of his hand, and if it touch cold water stiffens directly. I should wash in cold water when I went before the surgeon. Wouldn't you? You must have a affidavit.

The other chap in the carriage was a recruit. He had just joined the Grenadier Guards. The new recruits haven't forgotten how to grouse. That is where they differ from the Regulars. This young chap had some reason, I'll admit. He went to enlist without knowing anything about the various regiments and what they stood for. He was told by the recruiting sergeant (you know these chaps can tell 'em) that everything was full but the Grenadiers, and rushed him into that. The older soldier smiled, shook his head, and said : "You didn't know your way about. You should have agreed on an easier one and declined to enlist in any other. You would have found out it was not full and the sergeant would not have let you go away". The recruit said the training and discipline of the Grenadiers were notoriously stiff, and the drill sergeants were not at all (I'll put it) effeminate. The Scots Guards man reassured him with : "There'll be none of that at the Front. You'll be all right there".

Be sure and read F T Stephenson's letter in the Herald today. He is on submarine C16.

To F T Stephenson : Glad to have your letter. Please send me another. Sorry you should feel I was a stranger. I have tried not to be to you boys. Anyway, you have not found it so difficult to write to me as you imagined. You have written a splendid letter, and our readers will enjoy it. I value it much. If I get even one of the printed military correspondence cards, we insert it for the good reason that the writer's friends are assured that he is all right and are immensely reassured accordingly.

To our naval men : I am glad to hear from Stephenson that my letters interest you. I have often felt I have not given you the attention you deserve; but you see we land lubbers though on land are "quite at sea" in our attempts to reach and interest you. You know you are such a mysterious lot. We do not know where you are and can only imagine what you are doing. Of this we are sure, we have enough to eat, many comforts, and we know we owe it all to you. Just how you perform these miracles we are not allowed to know. When bad weather comes we first of all think of you naval boys. Most people, who know nothing of conditions on board ship, imagine that you are permanently drenched and never have a dry skin. Those who know more about it console themselves with thoughts of your heated and electrically lighted quarters below, and that you have your definite watches on deck and rest, warmth, and good food meantime. You may not be able to press the button for a rum and milk or whisky and soda, but life with you is not all work. Mines and submarines threaten you, we know, and I have no doubt they worry us more than they do you. I fancy it is the weary, wearing waiting for a chance at the enemy which is most trying for you to bear. Never mind! You are doing all the time something more for us than smashing German cruisers - you are keeping the wolf from the door of all our homes. Our soldier boys at the Front would have a harder and longer job if it were not for your alert, patient work. When you do get a chance, the enemy has none. Whilst we get many wounded soldiers to nurse in Harrogate, we have no naval case - and we don't want any, for then we know things are going well wit our jolly sailors. You boys are not on the stage in the limelight view of the British public now, but you will live in the perpetual light of imperishable history, for ever in the hearts of your compatriots.

Cruft's dog show was on in London last week. You will be interested to know that one class was devoted to dogs that have saved lives. They were not much to look at, but all were canine heroes. The most notable was a poor specimen of birth and breed, but he had lost his aristocratic rivals far behind. A man rescued from the Formidable was given up as dead. The dog lay by his side, and licking the cold face patiently, at length coaxed back the faintest glimmer of vitality to life and animation. A dog's instinct is unfathomable; but it was there that time, to the relief and happiness of an anxious public.

Just a word to our boys at home, in training for the Front : I realise quite well what you have at the bottom of your minds. You are getting impatient. You want to be done with the monotonous daily routine of drill and to get to business at the front. They do not want you yet, so you might as well go on hardening at home. We realise that you have discomforts where you are now. They are but fitting you for what you have to meet on active service. You will have no drilling there. Excitement and variety there will be in plenty; whilst your experience of home training will have so accustomed you to roughing it, you will think nothing of your new duties because they are new; but like the veterans in the trenches, you will acquire a perpetual smile, inside and out, and know the happiness of contentment. In your present home training you have struck the sudden contrast between home indulgence and military routine. It goes hard until you have forgotten how to grouse. This you readily may do if you will persistently refuse to look at the dark side of anything. Do not let yourself discover or remain conscious of anything to grumble at. You have enlisted, out of a noble impulse of patriotism, to save your country from the horrors of German occupation and dominion. If you grumble even in thought, you are discounting the wealth of your sacrifice and cannot, in the future, give yourself full credit for that which you have done with an ungracious mind. Besides, if you get into the habit of grousing you will unsettle the weaker boys around you and the "rot" will set in.

I have not offered you the above suggestions because I have any doubt about your perfectly willing cheerfulness; but I do know that amongst a body of men there are always a few whose temperaments are susceptible to grousing. They do not mean it, but it spreads. Grousing is as catching as the measles and death to cheerfulness. You boys are going to equal the jolly tars and seasoned soldiers, in this war, just as soon as you arrive at their happy spirit of contentment. That will occur when you have hot over the effects of your dear, kind mother's indulgences - bless her. You will, I am sure, show that you are men enough to have deserved them.

The Dragoons in Harrogate are short of horses. They have had trouble with those they have. It is not difficult to understand. Many of them came unbroken, probably from Canada. They are ridden by different men because there are not enough to go round, and all must practise. Horses have keen instincts. They know when a stranger is at the other end of the reins. The constant swapping of riders is not calculated to soothe or satisfy a restive animal. If it happen to be a mare - well, we know the sex is emotional and wants understanding. The other day, on the Stray, one of them reared and straightway laid on its side. The trooper on his back stuck there cleverly and avoided mishap. "Get up", said the man, as cool as cucumber and as indifferent as a Government official. The brute got up and there was an end to the tantrum. If no one else rode, or handled that horse, it would soon be mastered. The trouble is there are so many riders (and amongst them poor horsemen) the animals get their way now and again, so are a long time in becoming tractable. We have heard of "one man, one vote", in this case the need is "one man, one horse". The troopers are jolly smart in drill, though, and the pity is that they should be handicapped for want of gee-gees. The explanation may be, and I think it is, that the Dragoons are breaking in the animals, and when they are "fit" off they go to the Front. That many have gone, I know.

Things are going well here, also with the other boys in training. The Stray, which is the parade ground, is much cut up by the wet and many feet. Solid foothold is scarce. You should see the bayonet exercise. One phase is amusing. It is that when they bayonet fat sacks stuffed with hay hung on a long line. The sacks are as fat and unshapely as a German's figure. It is fairly easy to estimate their capacity for holding lager beer - 18 gallons, I should say. The boys let 'em have it and the spectators road with satisfaction. When a man slips on the sods we realise where the danger lies in real battle. They are learning at an advanced age to "feel their feet". All mother's early labours have not been in vain. These boys will "walk" into the Germans, some day. Good luck to them.

Lets see! What bits of news have I? Weather? Oh, little more rain; business in the town, good; a Belgian refugee (male) sang on Sunday afternoon and evening, at the Dragoons' Band 's concert in the Kursaal; another refugee, who has managed big hotels in Ostend, and has been made manager of that fine hotel, the Prospect, Harrogate; the late Secretary of the Harrogate Trader's Association, Percy Cash, has enlisted. Nearly everybody has a son, or more, serving. There are still others serving behind the counter. When the Zeppelins come they will probably get under. Nothing like having things handy!

Seriously, it doesn't do to jump to conclusions until we know whether those who have not enlisted are, really, physically fit, or whether duty lies at home. Take a man upon whom the living of many workpeople and their families depends : He is more valuable at home. Agricultural labourers are scarce. They feed the Army and the people. They are not wasted at the Front. And so with railway people and workers on Government contracts.

One of the boys at the Front asks me : "What price Bradford City?". By that, of course, he means football. I do not follow the game and ignorant of how things are going, but I have made inquiries and these are the results : The third round of the English Cup is played next Saturday. Sixteen teams are left in, and these five are Yorkshire, viz. : Bradford Park Avenue visits Sheffield United. Now Bradford has a very good "away" record, and taking this into account, although Sheffield is "tipped" to win, it would not be surprising if Sheffield failed to come out on top.

Hull City visits Southampton, and the latter is tipped to win. Sheffield Wednesday is at home to Newcastle United and should win. Bradford City is drawn at home against Norwich City. Years ago Bradford City met Norwich City at Bradford and afterwards won the cup. People are looking upon this as a sign that history will repeat itself. We must not forget, however, that Bradford City has a very depleted team, at present, owing to suspensions and injuries, though one of the suspended (Shepherd) comes into play on Tuesday. The injured are Boocock, Hargreaves, and Fox. McIlvenny is suspended till March.

The other teams left in are : Manchester City v Chelsea; Birmingham v Oldham Athletic; Bolton Wanderers v Burnley (Cupholders); Queen's Park Rangers v Everton. The following are tipped to win : Manchester City, Oldham Athletic, Everton, and Burnley.

A week on Saturday is what is locally termed as "the Derby Day" at Bradford, for then Bradford City meets Bradford Park Avenue on the latter's ground. Of course, if either team draw in the next round of the cup, the day will have to be midweek.

W H Breare