Harrogate Herald - 24th February 1915

Dear Chaps, 

We are having more of that spring weather I told you of, and the streets are more like the height of the season, so far as crowds go. Indeed, Harrogate is very full now. There is one difference : In the summer season, at certain hours of the day, our streets seem deserted. Now, they are always gay with people. The unfrequented hours of old are, at present, just those when the soldiers are off duty. It is then they "give the town a treat". We see the other side of them and there is much to observe. Perhaps a group will saunter by, each leaving the impression of a capacious mouth in a pork pie, others may be paying particular attention to some other dainty, not included in Government rations. Even when they get the ramrod out of their backs they are orderly, but cheerful, even in their unbending.

Harrogate has lost a lady resident of wide sympathies and generous heart in Mrs James Hindell. She died on Thursday in her sleep. In the few hours of suffering, before the passing, her thoughts were of others and their welfare. She asked her widowed daughter-in-law, Mrs Tom Hindell, to read the paper to her. Who do you think she had in her motherly mind? You boys. "Read 'To Our Boys on Service'", she said. That was typical for her lifelong consideration for others. In sickness and in health, it was ever the same - sharing the joys, sorrows, and anxieties of all in need of sympathy and the prayers of a good woman.

It is a severe wrench for the husband, and we all feel for him. You remember Mr Hindell, who has for years devoted himself to the cause of the poor. He ii is who works so indefatigably for the poor folks' Xmas tea and other kindred objects. Some of you call to mind, also, the son, Tom Hindell, who died years ago. He was Assistant Overseer, a good cricketer, and one of the nicest boys.

A number of the boys, here, were invited out to an entertainment the other night. When they were seated, someone detected with alarm, an insidious smell of burning. It is not a reassuring sensation when a goodly number is gathered together. Sundry noses sniffed, scenting the direction of danger. Others held their breath in alarmed suspense. Eventually the mystery was solved, and what do you think it was? Some of the boys, not intending to waste the last ends of their smokes, had thrust them (even cigarettes) into their pockets. Everybody sighed relief, then laughed, and the "fire" was over.

Young Slade's death was very sad. He threw himself before a train near Weeton. He was in the Flying Corps, and had been three months at the Front, but was on leave at the time of his death. To him the loss of his brother, some time ago, from pneumonia, was such a shock he never got over it. Then came disturbing experiences in France and Belgium. Our sympathies centre in the mother, for it always she who feels most the pain of an unending grief.

Men do not view the tragedies of life from the same standpoint. Being less emotional, they are able to realise that life, after all, is but a span - longer or shorter. The end is but the beginning of a new and better experience. The thing that counts, on earth's path to transition, is crystallised in one word - DUTY. You boys, in your faithfulness to your charge, are fulfilling in the highest, purest sense. Perhaps that is why Father Bernard Vaughan has said that the man who dies in the trenches goes to heaven.

But you are not going to fall. You are coming back to give us the satisfaction of proving our regard for you and our satisfaction at your glorious, self-sacrificing work. Just glue your mind to that point! The force and efficacy of will power over bodily weakness is extraordinary. It is the conquest of mind over matter. A person who limply gives in, has little chance; but the fighter all through wins. How true this is in all things. Many a woman has pulled through at the mere thought of someone else daily wearing her best things which she only brought out on Sundays. Yes, there's nowt so queer as folk.

This reminds me of an eccentric man, who once lived in the New England States of America. In spite of his daft ways, he became rich, because everything he touched turned to money, in spite of him. Once he shipped a whole ship load of warming pans to a country that knew no cold weather. Everybody laughed and said, "He'll drop it, this time, anyway". His luck never swerved. The natives bought them for ladling treacle, and he coined money. This same man conceived the idea that he would like to witness his own funeral. Giving his orders to the undertaker, he watched the proceedings from behind a blind in an upper window of his house. He was not quite satisfied with the results. He complained that his wife did not make fuss enough.

Harrogate is seeking powers to extend its electric lighting area and desires to supply Knaresborough. The Rural District Council has been won over and will give its support to Harrogate. The Urban Council, however, is opposed.

The Harrogate boys who are in training at York, in company with their detachment, are to be moved south this week. One step nearer the front, Egypt, or somewhere else. The last location is the only one we are permitted to be sure of. The boys are glad to go. Rogers and Palmer, two of the chaps who enlisted from our works, came in to see me the other day bursting with bully beef and general health. I was glad to hear that their little lot all passed the shooting tests, at the Knaresborough range, in a week. Robinson, who used to help make the blocks for the pictures in the Harrogate Herald, is in the same migratory group, and he is off likewise. "AAJ", who has written those amusing sketches of soldier life in the Harrogate Herald, I fancy, is of the same contingent.

We have two military bands and a bugle combination in Harrogate now : the Dragoons', the Yorkshire Hussars', and the 5th West Yorks Reserve. The bandmasters of the first two are father and son - Lieutenant S Suckley and Mr S Cramer Suckley. There is some talk of both bands playing at the Kursaal on Sunday afternoons and evenings, in which case they would play on alternate Sundays. Madame Edith Hartley was the vocalist last Sunday. She is he wife of W B Atkinson, engineer, whose father, Octavious Atkinson, you may remember. When in practice "Billy" was one of the best shots in the Harrogate Civilian Rifle Club. By the way, the headquarters of the Hussars are at the Queen Hotel, and I believe the men are also billeted there. In the time of the 2nd West Yorkshire Yeomanry, which is many years ago, the headquarters were always at the Granby. The Hussars parade on the Stray opposite the Queen. They have got no nearer the lower part of the town than the Prince of Wales. The Dragoons parade on the Stray in the basin of Low Harrogate and near West Park. As I am in the lower region I have not had sight of the Hussars as yet.

I see a good deal of both cavalry and infantry from the window of our flat in the Herald building. They fall in just in front of my bedroom window. That is why it takes so long to dress. At half past 6am the reproachful bugle reminds us of the hour. Such is it regularity, we have no use for clocks. As the detachments are drawn up in separate columns spread out as far as the eye can reach, they remind me of the review days of earlier years. Here the boys wait until the officers turn up, and then the clock-work precision begins. After a few movements appropriate to the crowded area, it is "Form fours" and off to the spacious ground of West Park.

I need not introduce you to Mr Horace Milling, I am sure. It will serve if I remind you that he was for years an Alderman of the borough and has been a popular, almost everything that is good, or distinguished, including Mayor. He is still one of our most attentive Justices at the Court House in Raglan Street, and as keen in his sympathies and work for deserving causes as ever. You will be pleased to hear that he has a son and nephew in the trenches. Captain Milling, the nephew, has just won the Military Cross. I had nearly forgotten Mr Horace Milling was for years a zealous and capable officer in the Harrogate Volunteers, so the son may well inherit the military spirit.

The expected seldom happens. So it was with the Cup-ties on Saturday. The tipsters found themselves considerable askew, for the results were abundant in surprises. The biggest of all was that Manchester City should have been beaten by Chelsea, and on Manchester's own ground. The score was 1-0. extra time had to be played in four of the eight ties. Even then, two remained undecided, viz. : Southampton 2, Hull City 2; Bradford City 1, Norwich City 1. Sheffield Wednesday on their own ground were expected to beat Newcastle United, but the latter won, two to one. Everton (away) did what was required of them in beating Queen's Park Rangers, and they scored two to one. Oldham Athletic (away), who are the League leaders, beat Birmingham three to two, although the latter led at half-time. The Cup-holders (Burnley) were defeated at Bolton by the Wanderers, two to one. At Sheffield the United beat Bradford Park Avenue 1-0, playing extra time. It is interesting to note that four teams, playing away, secured the verdict. Bradford City is said to have missed many chances through bad "shooting". In the extra time, Norwich City was preserved from defeat by the excellent work of their goalkeeper, Lonsdale. The two undecided contests will be replayed on Saturday.

The fourth round of the English Amateur Cup is played on Saturday. There are four contests, and Bishop Auckland, the holders, are still in the competition. All are to be played in London.

I can understand that professional football means a living for many men. What I cannot appreciate is the necessity for amateur football in war time.

I have just had a post-card from Mrs Gill of Wharfedale Place, Harlow Hill, saying that her son Fred Gill had been wounded in the neck, but is going on "as well as can be expected". He belongs to the 2nd West Yorkshires and is in No 2 Stationary Hospital. I have to send his Harrogate Herald to the new address, and so I will say to him, "Well done, Gill! You have been in it and we are all proud of you at home. It is a relief that at the time we hear of your wound, we also hear you are going on all right. If the first message had come to us without the other we should have worried about you. Now we shall look forward to a handshake, in the streets of Harrogate very soon".

Private Percy Calvert, 1208, 4th Division MT Ammunition Column, Army Service Corps, looked in to see me long enough to say "How do" and "Goodbye". I don't wonder time was short with him, for he had then to travel to another time to see friends of a chap out Front he had promised to fulfil the mission. The boys who come home are very punctilious in these matters. They know how it is themselves, and are determined to keep such promises. What a pleasure to the family, eh? There would be some questions plying.

Private W H Weighill, Royal Army Medical Corps, 11the General Hospital, Imperial Pavilion Hotel, Boulogne-sur-Mer, France (how's that for style? And the Continent, too!), stopped me in Oxford Street to thank me for the Harrogate Herald and the soldiers' letter. There's no swank about Weighill. He looked as if he'd been sticking to business, but was very well nevertheless. He was glad to have even a short holiday, yet as determined and cheerful as you all are. I don't know which I should prefer, the trenches or hospital. The trench man is liable to get both, isn't it? Each situation requires nerve and patriotism. We duly appreciate the fact that every man on service is doing his very necessary share for his country, and is entitled to our gratitude and admiration. He has both, in overflowing measure.

W H Breare.