Harrogate Herald - 2nd May 1917

To Our Boys on Service

Dear Chaps,

My late lamented friend and colleague, Robert Robinson, had a brother, not so far from Cape Town, South Africa, who has been out there for many years - in fact, from quite a young man - about twenty years, I think, altogether. He was an apprentice of the late Mr Linskill, joiner, and left just before he finished his time. He has not been in this country for sixteen years. When the war broke out he served a year with the African troops in West Africa. He is the youngest brother, and his name is Herbert Robinson. He volunteered for service in France, and has just arrived in England with a South African contingent. Way back in the South African war he assisted in erecting blockhouses, often in dangerous positions. His friends in Harrogate are hoping he will get leave and be able to visit them. You will realise how the wheels of time and circumstance revolve when I tell you that at one time he was admitted into a German colony out there where seldom Englishmen were received, and he worked at his trade as joiner. On the land which the German colony occupied there were diamond mines. A German sent out from his homestead to look after things looked after them too well in his own interests. It was discovered that he was surreptitiously smuggling diamonds away, secreted in cement. The trick was discovered, but before they could arrest him he threw himself out of a window, and received such fatal injuries that he died. Herbert, I thought, must be over military age, but have ascertained he is 37. It shows his patriotism and pluck that he should be willing to embark in another military campaign at his age.

On Wednesday morning the Herald was sold out in a very short time; the agents clamoured in vain for more copies. They were not to be had. People seem very slow in realising that if they are to make sure of their copies they must speak for them in advance, as the paper shortage won't allow us to print for chance sales. Now, you in your inherent modesty will never guess why there is such a demand for the Herald, so I must tell you. It is almost entirely due to the absorbing interest the people at home have in you boys, and all that concerns you. The first things they go for are your letters. Every one that you boys send, which appears in the Herald, is read eagerly. There are always lots of generous friends on the look-out to see if there is anything in particular you express a wish for. I can assure you that you boys are seldom out of their thoughts, then only when something imperative demands attention.

By the way, AB Seaman W L Fowler, whose mother lives at 28 King's Road [These are apartments], has been home on five days' leave, and returned yesterday (Tuesday). He came into see me looking extremely well. He has been in the Navy two years, and finds it a grand life for a young man. When I asked him if he liked it, you should have seen his face light up. I wanted no other answer, but he subsequently gave me a more emphatic one. You might think these naval boys would get tired of the monotony; or, to be precise, that monotony which is seldom relieved.

One of the boys in France, who signs himself only "LJC", sends me a bright little paper called "The Outpost", which I take to be the organ of the 1st ASC Shop. There are lots of smart things in it, and it is very well got up. "LJC" says : "By the way of a change will you please accept one of our journals, the 319th Company's first publication? It will not compare with the Herald just yet, but we have great hopes of it. There is one thing - neither the promoters or the subscribers ever desire to see printed on the front page, 'Now in its -th year of publication', for we all look forward to being home this year". On the front page of this publication is an illustration of a man turning something like a sausage machine, out of which is flying all sorts of completed motor vehicles. Into the hopper is going a steady shower of motor parts. Apparently at that repair shop they simply turn the handle and turn out the completed things.

I am not able to get away from the office, and so I can never go to see the boys in our Harrogate hospitals. I was, therefore, all the more pleased to hear from my daughter-in-law (Mrs Fred Breare) that she had been to St George's, and had the opportunity of seeing the youngest of the Allen boys. She thought how nice and considerate it was of the Matron to have arranged that the two brothers, who had gone through so much, should have their beds side by side, and I think so, too! There they are as happy as can be. Both are able to get about a little. I was also delighted to receive a message from the Matron to say that Emmerson, of Pannal Ash, [Probably 1 Harlow View, Pannal Ash] had arrived the night before. I often have had to ask that certain Harrogate boys may be received in one of these hospitals. Emmerson is one of them; so are the Allens. I am glad to say that my requests have always been cheerfully granted. Herein, I feel, lies one of the largest totals of my indebtedness.

I had news from lots of Harrogate boys when Private G Eaddie, RAMC, came in last Friday, from Elmwood Street. He has been out since July 4th, 1915. Before the war he was twelve years with Maxwell Grayson, wine merchants, James Street. Of the six lads who enlisted and went out with him, only one remains, and that is Wood. Eaddie has been at the Dardanelles, Suvla Bay, Egypt, and now France. He came home on leave on Tuesday of last week, and returns today. He met Johnson, who worked for Knowles, wine merchant, Parliament Street; likewise E Tindall, who was with us; Sergeant Birkhill, J W Smith, H Lockwood, who, by the way, is reported missing, and Dent, named "Major", as well as Oddy, Ted's son. The last two he saw only three weeks ago, and they were well. Then he has seen Harry Robinson, Taylor, Syd Dawson, and Simpson. Robinson and Simpson were in the Salvage Corps. Eaddie met Frank Jackson at Suvla Bay, and was the only Harrogate man Jackson had met. Eaddie attended the ambulance classes, with Jackson, under Dr Campbell Ward. Although the last two soldiers were training in Sheffield at the same time, they never saw each other until Suvla Bay. Private Eaddie wishes to be remembered to all his old friends, wherever they may be.

We still get all sorts of silly rumours as well as others of a serious but equally inaccurate nature. The first make folk laugh; the second, uneasy. The most extraordinary rumour was current a short time ago. It was that a young woman had been murdered in the Valley Gardens. I can now give you the solution of its origin. It seem that there has been a woman visitor in the town who was addicted to strong drink. She was in the Bogs Field one day in a state you will readily guess, when I tell you that she lost a boot and other articles of attire. It was the finding of these which gave rise to the silly report. It wouldn't do to carry this sort of Sherlock Holmes' deduction too far, would it? Or else a lady dropping a hairpin might give rise to a report that she had lost her head. I daresay you know the game wherein people sit round, in a half-circle, and the end person whispers a remark to the next. This is passed on hurriedly, and said but once. By he time it gets to the other end, the original remark has become so altered as to be nothing like the original. Well, I expect rumours arise much in this way. Someone overhears something in the street spoken by passers-by. He or she jumps at a conclusion, and repeats it as faithfully as he or she can. Yet the remark is distorted out of recognition, as in the game. Doubtless the more alarming reports are set going by German agents with the object of creating a nervous condition in the people at home.

Anything to sicken them of the war and make them cry out for peace. How little the enemy knows British character!

Many of you boys know Dr Mantle, of Harrogate, at least by reputation. [Alfred Mantle, MD, physician, 62 York Place] You will be sorry to hear that his son, Captain Mantle, has been wounded, but you will be glad to hear that there is no cause for alarm. Mrs Mantle, the wounded officer's mother, has done a great deal of sympathetic work for boys at the Front. You will hope with me that she will soon have her son home, convalescent.

Lads who have gone through extended training at home will realise the truth of the saying which runs : "God sends the provisions, but the devil sends the cooks". Now, I don't go so far as to say that these patriotic but inexperienced soldier-cooks, who are forced to take up something they do not understand, are by any means under the influence of his Satanic Majesty. We do know that sometimes the cooking in camps is not what it should be, and we also know that the Army is provided with the best of provisions. One of the latest recruits from Harrogate has found that out, and he thinks with most of us that it is a pity the cooking, at least in home camps, should not be done by the opposite sex. Most of the new soldiers tell me, however, that, after they have been at it a little while, they can eat anything. As for women Army cooks, I have just heard the authorities are carrying out the idea as fast as they can get accommodation for them.

To Private Rex : Private D Y Wake would like your address. If you send it to the Herald Office, Harrogate, I will forward.

You will notice in the Herald today that Harrogate Council School teachers in receipt of salaries under a certain amount have been offered a war bonus that is not deemed adequate by the teachers. A correspondent draws a comparison between the hours of teachers and those of other workers. It reminds me of a story. A self-made businessman asked a distinguished portrait painter his price for a picture. The artist replied, "A thousand guineas". Said the so-much-an-hour man; "You could paint it in a few days". "Yes", replied the artist, "but it took me many years to acquire the necessary skill!"

It is some time since I told you boys about Maurice Fenwick, of the Yorkshire Hussars, being in hospital in France. A while after he was removed to a hospital in Aberdeen. The journey took 17 hours, but the arrangements were such that he did not know when he was crossing the water, and the railway journey, though long, was exceedingly comfortable. He was in Aberdeen, I should say, six weeks, perhaps more. On Friday morning he arrived at St Nicholas hospital here, much to the satisfaction of his father and mother, Mr and Mrs Fenwick, of York Road [James F Fenwick, Glenside, York Road], and his many friends. Of course, it was a long journey for him, and he was somewhat exhausted on arrival; but he has picked up nicely since, though I am sorry to say he is very ill, but not dangerously. His principal trouble is septic poisoning. he and his lot were the first in a German trench, which had been occupied by the Huns for some two and a half years. He will never forget the condition of that trench, a breath of which, the medical men declare, was enough for incalculable temporary damage. Maurice was a tall boy before he enlisted, much older in appearance, and younger than he looked. He was not near military age when he joined. His friends are very anxious to visit him at the hospital, but they can do him no greater service than to remain away for the present. As soon as he can get out, even in a bath chair, the air of Harrogate will have a wonderful effect upon him, so altogether we are very cheerful about his future. For some time Maurice was fed on weak Bovril. Of late his diet has been four eggs a day, until he feels like jibbing at the sight of one. On his arrival at St Nicholas he was met by every kindness, including a beaten up egg. Naturally, he is impressed by the way eggs pursue him.

Collings, of whom I spoke to you a fortnight ago, got home on leave, and came in to see me. He is looking very well. The authorities have been very considerate in the matter of leave. They gave him just what he deemed necessary.

We have had a long spell of cool but fine weather. Today is Monday. The air is warmer. Apart from the influence of the sun, a soft, warm breeze, such as we get in real Spring weather, is gently moving.

I have just had Mr Trowsdale [Probably : Arthur E Trowsdale, commission agent, Ingleneuk, 18 Knaresborough Road] in, who has told me that his son, Private L Trowsdale, who won the Military Medal some time ago, has just been presented with a bar for bravery at Ypres. His brother, A G Trowsdale, has been through lively times, and came out all right, but going back for a rest he got a shrapnel splinter in his back, and is now in Wharncliffe Hospital, Sheffield. His wound is giving no cause for anxiety, I am happy to say.

You will have read about AB Seaman Ingleson, who bayoneted that German and saved the midshipman who was assailed by that Hun when the Germans boarded the "Broke" in that brilliant affair where the two German boats were sunk. I am proud to tell you that Ingleson is a Harrogate lad, whose mother lives in Cold Bath Road. [Mrs S A Ingleson, 121 Cold Bath Road] You see, thanks to the bravery of our Harrogate lads, the town is frequently reaping high, reflected honours. Evans, of the Scott Antarctic Expedition, commanded the "Broke". Some man, that! Eh? Now we can understand what a "superman" means. Ingleson is home in Harrogate on leave now. He is on his honour not to be interviewed by the Press, or tell things, so we cannot give you his story. Close as an oyster these Navy chaps, aren't they? Probably have taken the diseases (lock-jaw) from Admiralty officials.

Admiral Jellicoe is to be the guest of the Savage Club (London) at the house dinner of May 5th. In the year 1892 I was surprised to receive an intimation that I had been elected a member of this club. I accepted the honour, and have remained a member ever since, but I seldom have time or the opportunity to use the club. Sir Somers Vine, a well-known public man, was secretary at the time. I am reminded of a story : Some of the "Savage" are very witty chaps and all appreciate a joke. Sir Somers was living at Vine Court. He was inviting some of his brother "Savages" to home to see him, when one of them enquired, "Where do you live?". Sir Somers answered, "Vine Court". "What number?" said the irrepressible Savage.

Many distinguished men of the world have dined as the guest of honour at the periodical dinner. Nansen, before he set out for the North Pole, was thus entertained. On the wall of the club's dining room in Adelphi Terrace he wrote his name, which, did he not return, was to remain. As we all know, he did return, and duly erased his signature after once more being the guest of honour. The Savage Club represents literature, science, and art. It's this club, where tastes are congenial and hearts big, the spirit of brotherhood is very real. There are Savage Club scholarships in various educational and artistic institutions, which have afforded opportunities to sons and daughters of "Savages", many of whom have attained distinction on their own accounts.

Rather singular, boys, but just as I finished the forgoing paragraph the afternoon mail (3 o'clock) arrived with a letter on Savage Club paper from my old friend. Bernard Evans, RI, whose membership dates from 1881.

I have just received a letter from the mother of my friend, Trooper George Parker (you will remember him, he is the Harrogate Industrial Window Cleaning Company), saying that he is at the 7th Canadian General Hospital, France, suffering from gas poisoning. Fortunately the attack is light. In the notice to his mother he is described as "Private", but, as he is in the Yorkshire Hussars, I have designated him Trooper, which, I think, is correct. At all events, his friends will better identify him thus.

W H Breare