W H Breare letter

You will remember Mr Bateman, who lived at Follifoot Ridge, just on the highest point of the road leading from Spacey Houses to Follifoot. Major Yates lives there now. His son, Lieutenant Hubert Yates, of the Duke of Wellington's Regiment, was dangerously wounded early in the war. He was brought to London and placed in a private nursing home. I am glad to say he is so far recovered as to come home to Follifoot Ridge and be able to get out. I regret to hear he has not yet recovered his eyesight, though there are good hopes that he will. The bullet entered behind the ear, travelled along the back of the neck, and emerged from the opposite shoulder, affecting his sight.

Claro Times - 4th June 1915

On Saturday the staffs of Messrs W E [maybe F] Yates (Limited), worsted manufacturers, Leeds and Bramley, presented a gold watch, chain, and sovereign purse to Lieutenant Hubert W Yates, of the 2nd Battalion Duke of Wellington's Regiment, who has just arrived at his majority. This young officer is at his home, The Ridge, Pannal, suffering from wounds which deprived him of his sight. He was present, however, when the firm's oldest employee, Mr Richard Brook, made the presentation, and the reply was read by his father, Mr James Yates, formerly a Major in the 1st West Riding Brigade Royal Field Artillery.

Lieutenant Yates was educated at South Lodge, Enfield, and at Harrow, and the University of Leeds. He was gazetted a Second Lieutenant in the 2nd Battalion Duke of Wellington's Regiment, and on July 1st joined the line regiment in Dublin, and went into training with them. Whilst at Harrow, he was in the Officers' Training Corps.

He went to the Front on September 1st, and was shot through the brain and through the shoulders on October 24th, north of Bethune. Owing to lack of immediate attention poisoning ensued, and for some considerable time he was in a critical state in a London nursing home. He was the patient of the eminent physician, Sir Victor Horsley. Only two days after he was wounded, his father received an intensely interesting letter, in which Lieutenant Yates described in a racy style the "sport" of potting at the heads of Germans in their trenches from behind bushes, and touching on the artillery fire, said it was a peculiar thing that the Germans always fired the last gun at night about 7.30 - a sort of good-night, and the British fired the first gun in the morning - a sort of good-morning. The French were usually at it all night. With regard to food, the young officer mentioned that there were plenty of hens and ducks, and even tame pheasants knocking about.