"1st July" Topic

When thinking of the events of 100 years ago today, remember the men of the Newfoundland Regiment. Not part of Canada in 1916, rather a small but self-governing colony with their own Prime Minister. Their loyalty to the Empire lead them to raise a battalion of men 1000 from their small island which went first to Gallipoli and Suvla Bay, and then onto the Western Front.

At 08.45 on 1st July, the 780 Newfies stepped out of their trenches and attacked a German position. They were unsupported and suffered over 90% casualties in a few short minutes. The next morning their role listed just 68 men fit for duty.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

Thank you for recalling the memory of those brave men for us.

We will remember them.

for our local regt link

Royal Naval Division
link

If anyone wants to read a first hand account written by a Private soldier who survived, I've put my Grandfather's account up on my blog: link

He was in the 8th KOYLI Service Battalion and volunteered as one of Kitchener's 100,000.

Today I am thinking of my great-uncle, Pte George Carle (19 yrs old) who went over the top at Gommecourt on 1 July 1916 with the 5th Bn of the London Regt (London Rifle Brigade).

The LRB managed to capture some of the first line German trenches but could not push on any further (they lacked sufficient grenades to clear dug outs). German artillery pounding no mans land prevented any resupply or reinforcements from reaching them and their gains were steadily lost as the Germans counterattacked.

George was taken POW in a sap at around 4pm, surrounded by Germans.

Over the next two years he made several unsuccessful escape attempts from German POW camps before he finally made it to Switzerland by swimming across Lake Constance in March 1918. In 1920 he was awarded the MM "in recognition of gallantry and devotion to duty whilst a prisoner of war".

There is a stretch of land, not very wide, where farmers to this day dig up bones, shells and the shards of battles fought over this narrow band of ground where the mighty nations of Europe fought each other to a standstill for four bloody years.

Men came there and gave up everything they were, their hopes, their dreams, their loves, their futures.

We should never glorify their death, it would only anger them. We owe them quiet, honest and dignified respect, for the hows and whys ceased to matter to them a hundred years ago.

Patrick R – "Noble" would be a suitable word.

Trebian – Thank you for the link to your Grandfather's story. It is fair to say that he had talent with a pen.

FWIW – Martin Middlebrook's "First Day on the Somme" remains the single best book I have read on the subject.

B

Blutarski: My Grandfather was interviewed for that book (quoted, p309). I have his copy, autographed by Martin Middlebrook.They remained friends and corresponded until my Grandfather died.

Wild, that poem was used in a Bolt Thrower song, and I never knew where it was from.
Thanks for sharing.

YouTube link
link (Scroll down to the track titled "For Victory"

Guthroth wrote – "At 08.45 on 1st July, the 780 Newfies stepped out of their trenches and attacked a German position. They were unsupported and suffered over 90% casualties in a few short minutes. The next morning their role listed just 68 men fit for duty."

Nicholson's book, "The Fighting Newfoundlanders" is one of the better regimental histories in my collection. The story of what happened to the Newfies that day just boggles the mind. They were ordered to emerge from the reserve trenches 250 fire-swept yards behind their own front line, form up in platoon columns, navigate their way through four lines of friendly barbed wire entanglements before they even reached the front line. From that point they had to continue down a slope in full view of the Germans, who were entrenched and alert behind their own largely intact barbed wire.

B

Brave men all. Though lost never forgotten. Thank you.

Here's a song about the Blue Puttees (aka The Royal Newfoundland Regiment)
youtu.be/knxR-Q2VoBE

I'm not Canadian, but the history and sacrifice of the Newfoundland regiment has always fascinated me. Many thousands followed them including a great uncle of mine who has no known grave, but I always found their story most poingiant.

I've walked the beach at Normandy, stood on Pegasus Bridge, walked the tunnels that lead to the mines at Arras, rocked and bobbed in a small boat in Suvla Bay, stared at the bones in the sepulchre at Verdun, seen the heap of unexploded shells at the roadside and walked among the rows of British, Australian, American, Canadian, French, Turkish and German crosses in countless cemeteries across Europe.

I never lose the urge to visit these places and pay my respects to the men and women who lay there. In all of these places I have shed tears for them and at some point I always stand still and bow my head in silent salute.

I remember the men who attacked kicking a football ahead of them each striving for the honour of the next kick, those who followed their piper, those who stepped up alongside their brothers and workmates in the Pals battalions, those who travelled half way round the world to fight for the Empire and the men who were first turned away because they were too small who then petitioned to be able to form their own units – the Bantam Battalions.

But I also remember today those who waited in their trenches and dugouts for them, as I did when I stood in Neuville-St Vasst war cemetery surrounded by more than 44,000 German war graves.

And always, always remember that regardless of their politics or nationality they believed theirs was the RIGHT side in the war and God was on their side.

James thanks for sharing Recruiting Sergeant from Great Big Sea. Great song and great lyrics.

Guthroth I am like you, I find walking in the footsteps of brave men is a solemn occasion and a powerful experience. I have been to blue beach at Dieppe as well as the town of Dieppe, Juno Beach, Pegasus bridge, Merville Battery, Ben sur-Mer Canadian war cementary, Vimy Ridge and monument, Arras, and Caen.

This past March we were planning to go to Holland, Flanders and Belgium on a military history trip but had it cancelled by our administration due to pathetic horrible disgraceful non-human actions by ISIS F-heads in those countries. I was angry that our trip got cancelled as giving to those a holes gives them power to disrupt our lives.

My father was in the First World War in the Austrian Army and served on the Russian Front. He was a colonel (at the end of it all). My father never spoke much about the war though he was in it up to his eyeballs for four years.

The only story he told me was that towards the end he was hit in a Russian Barrage and had part of his foot blown off. It was bitter winter and he was unconscious and the foot froze, which stopped the bleeding. After the battle they came along and dug a huge trench for the mass grave. Others began dragging the bodies over and began piling them up. My father was lucky. He was on the bottom of the pile and all those bodies on top of him formed just enough insulation so that when they got to him, he was barely awak and could move his fingers a little and say in a weak voice, "No, no, I'm not dead… I'm not dead.." They took him away to hospital and he survived.

He never told me anything else about what he saw.

Actually he did. He told me that when he went in to report for Duty at 18, he was already a lieutenant by birth. When they asked him what he wanted to do in the army, he said he was a master musician and had already made a name for himself. The recruiting officer said "Excellent! We will have you playing the most beautiful instruments and making the most melodious music."

They sent him to the heavy artillery.