Captured Memories, 1900–1918

Across the Threshold of War

Peter Liddle

• Publisher: Pen & Sword Military
• Year: 2011
• Print ISBN:
  9781848842342
• eBook ISBN:
  9781844686247
• Topic: History
• Subtopic: Military Biographies
• Index: History

Peter Liddle was a pioneer in the recording of memories of personal experience in the First World War and in the social background of those who lived through those years. Later he moved into the recording of men and women for whom the Second World War was the formative experience of their lives. In a planned two volume collection of the most outstanding interviews of the four thousand he made, for the first volume he has chosen memories which take the reader back as many as a hundred and twenty years to days in sailing ships, a Hebridean boyhood, suffragist action, pre–1914 working class life and work in the North-East of England, city life in London, service in the Boer War, pioneering a settlement in Manitoba, Canada, and the Army's experiments in the use of man-lifting kites, airplanes and balloons.The main focus of the book is upon the First World War with The Western Front battles, the Gallipoli Campaign and the Battle of Jutland prominently featured. Liddle also represents the Mesopotamian and East African fronts and women nursing under particularly unusual circumstances. Several Victoria Cross award winners and a fighter pilot ace appear, as do those whose distinction was to come later in their lives like Harold Macmillan, Henry Moore, Gordon Jacob, Emanuel Shinwell, Barnes Wallis and Victor Silvester. There is even an interview with the first conscientious objector to be court-martialed and sentenced to death before commutation of the sentence. This book is a veritable treasure trove of the past.

Section Two
The First World War

1

AIR MARSHAL SIR VICTOR GODDARD KCB CBE

Training in Balloons

In March 1974 I went to see Sir Victor Goddard at his home in Brasted near Westerham in Kent. It may well be thirty-six years since the interview but I knew what I would find in my diary record of the occasion and there it was ‘told me two marvellously funny stories of his balloon training experiences, one simply hilarious’.

Sir Victor was born in 1897, the son of a country doctor in a place with no rural associations today, Wembley. At the age of twelve and a half he went to the Royal Naval College, Osborne, on the Isle of Wight, with his having no choice in the matter. Two years at Osborne were followed by two at the senior college establishment, Dartmouth, in South Devon and then a six months’ training cruise in HMS Cornwall.

My memories of life at the College are on the whole happy but there was a great deal of bullying. Fortunately we had the stamina to stick it out. We were beastly to our juniors and rather cocky when we were seniors and thoroughly nasty little boys in some respects and yet I think that the young naval officer turned out to be a very fine fellow. It was essentially a scientific and technical education; one third of our time was spent in engineering and everything was slanted towards understanding ‘what it was all about’ in the Navy - how ships worked and how engines work and how guns work and all this sort of thing and also we had the smatterings of strategy and tactics and Naval History. We were imbued with the past and we were supposed to be able to look forward to the future with understanding but in fact, it was a godsend for the Navy that the system was changed or at least was supplemented towards the end of my time at Dartmouth, let us say round about 1913 when the Public School entry was started to supplement the flow of officers into the Navy and there they drew young men who had been trained towards leadership in the public schools system. This was a great thing for the Navy. We thought it was a bad thing at the time but I was young and all very conservative, rather died in the wool against this idea but in retrospect I was wrong.

One thing I must tell you about was that it was a very remarkable and delightful experience for a young fellow that the petty officers helped to train the midshipmen more than the senior officers did. They really had a compassionate attitude towards these very young types who were aspiring to be officers. They were brought up to a tradition in the Navy just like we in the officer branch were. They wished well for the Navy. They wanted to see their young officers turning out into being good officers and they were also brought up on what was called the catechism. Most people went to church or had dealings with the religious side and I think that the greater proportion of the lower deck felt that it was, as it were, God's will that they should be happy to serve in the station to which they had been called.

Well, as war loomed, Winston Churchill, the First Lord of The Admiralty, had commissioned every ship in the Navy that could be of use including those that were lying waiting to be broken up. I was just about to become a midshipman and in the natural order of things I would have been going on holiday but in fact I was sent rather secretly by night from Plymouth directly to Grimsby. We weren’t supposed to know where we were but of course, we couldn’t help seeing the name of Grimsby on the railway station and I joined an old battleship called Victorious with two funnels abreast which was lying at anchor with three other old battleships in the Humber. They were members of The Third Fleet and they had paint about a quarter of an inch thick all over them. They had been white at some time when serving on the China station and we spent the first week or so of war in chipping the paint off and getting the guns to work and getting the ship to work. We had reservist crews and so forth but I joined her only two days before with another group of my term as very junior midshipmen, in fact as naval cadets. We hadn’t been given the rank of midshipmen.

Although no officer below the rank of lieutenant was supposed to handle secret ciphers, the cipher message which was sent out to The Fleet to order the commencement of hostilities against Germany, was decoded by me and I took it up to the Bridge. The Captain happened to be on the bridge. I suppose he had been sleeping in his sea cabin and we had been already alerted and at our guns in case of submarine attack or something of the sort and I took him this message decoded which was to commence hostilities against Germany at once. This was at 11pm our time, 12 o’clock German time. So that was the start of the war. It was very foggy in the Humber on that particular night and as I was descending the ladder and going on to the fore and aft bridge as it was called, back to where the coding room was, I was startled and nearly knocked over by a shattering noise of a 12-pounder gun going off on the fore shelter deck. After a loud cry, I had heard, ‘Destroyer coming up harbour,’ so I turned round and went back. The searchlights hadn’t come on then. This gun had blazed out before the searchlights came on and finally the searchlights came on and peered through the fog. No destroyer was to be seen. In fact, you couldn’t see the bow of the ship but what had been seen, glimpsed by the gun layer, was the anchor buoy in the tideway and that was what he had opened fire at and this was only a few moments after 12 o’clock. So, it was certainly the first shot fired in anger. This became a great joke.

Well, I was posted away from Victorious to the Third Battle Squadron in the Grand Fleet at Scapa Flow, to a battleship called Britannia of King Edward VII class. She was pre-dreadnought in design. I found to my horror that the entire Gunroom, all the junior officers and sub lieutenants, who should have left the ship to do their courses on shore, they were all bearded. Every man jack of them was wearing a beard. At that time this was very unusual and I discovered that they had taken a vow that none of them would shave until the war was over and of course in the Navy you weren’t allowed to grow unless you grew the whole beard as well as the moustache and they looked a very piratical lot of chaps. Well, the Captain knew that he, having allowed them to grow at the start, he couldn’t withdraw the permission to have beards and moustaches, but he did say that he expected to see his young officers clean and this was taken to mean that they had better be clean shaven I think. Gradually beards disappeared.

As for the role we fulfilled at sea, well the Grand Fleet ‘kept the seas’. It was a fleet ‘in being’ and there was always about half the fleet out at sea, with the others at some state of readiness at anchor in Scapa Flow. We used to go out for about three or four days and do what was called a ‘sweep’ down the North Sea and it was pretty exhausting work because we used to steam at fairly high speeds, zigzagging most of the time but it was very good training for manoeuvres and practising observation but as there was no sign of the German fleet to be seen, and no real prospect of this it seemed after a bit, I was glad that I didn’t have to continue doing that arduous work.

Before I left the ship we did have one calamity in fog, running ashore near the mouth of the Tyne. It was one of the occasions when an Admiral interfered rather disastrously. The Admiral really was responsible for the whole happening because he was in the leading ship. The Dominion was acting as flagship and we were the second ship of the line and suddenly, I was on the bridge at the time as midshipman of the watch, when we could suddenly see, although we were ‘darkened’ ships, almost straight ahead of us, broadside on, the Dominion and we were actually aiming at her midship and she had seen this island at the top of the Tyne and had sheered away but had not sounded her siren and so we didn’t know that she had sheered away and we very nearly had a collision with her and the officer of the watch had the helm put hard over and we ran ashore.

By our own efforts we had just about got the ship off when the Admiral came on board and gave an order and we went on the rocks again. We had already been holed in our double bottom and then we got all our coal out and ammunition out and everything else out of the ship working for three days and nights.

Now, about my transfer to the Royal Naval Air Service: we were at sea in Britannia. We had just gone to sea that morning. We were in calm waters and the crew was mustering for divisions (inspection parade and prayers). We always had prayers at 9 o’clock every morning and we would all march off to aft on the quarterdeck. Sunday mornings were rather special. We had rather more church services at that time but every morning we had divisions and prayers. The ship's company was inspected by its officers and then we were assembled for prayers and the Captain would always read a portion of scripture and the Chaplain would take the service. While I was doing the roll call to see that my foretop men were all present, a messenger came and said that the Captain wished to see me in his cabin. So I had to report to the officer of my division and then go to the Captain. This was an extraordinary happening for a midshipman to be sent for by a Captain of a ship who was a bit of a tin god and nobody really spoke to him unless he was spoken to.

So down I went. I found the Captain with the Commander, that is the second in command, and the Captain's clerk. When I arrived the Captain said to the Commander: ‘Will you take Divisions for me, I want to see this young officer?’ He then sent his clerk away and I was left alone with the Captain. This was very, very unusual. The Commander went off but he came back a few minutes later to report that the ship's company was mustered aft and would the Captain come up and he was sent away again and the Captain then put his hand on my shoulder and said, ‘ Young man, I have a very grave question to ask you.’ I then thought I was in some sort of trouble. I couldn’t think what crime I had committed. Then he said, ‘Are you prepared to volunteer for special temporary service of a secret and dangerous nature?’ I really wanted to say that I didn’t but I hadn’t the nerve to say that. I said, ‘Yes Sir,’ and he told me that he had a letter from the Commander in Chief which had arrived just before we put to sea asking for the names of volunteers from the battleships, perhaps one midshipman might be taken from each ship as there was a small number of midshipmen required for this special job. So, I asked if he could you tell me what it was all about but he said he knew nothing about it. So I then left after a talk and of course, made myself scarce because divisions was not over at that time.

So I went down in the ship and wasn’t seen until lunch time. When of course, there was a demand in the gunroom that I should tell them why I went down to the Captain, why the Captain wasn’t attending divisions and all this, but I had been sworn to secrecy. I had to tell them that I was sorry but it was a secret matter and of course, much suspicion was aroused about all this. However, it all died away and nothing more was heard for about three weeks. We were then playing deck hockey and again I was sent for by the Captain. We were in harbour at Rosyth and down I went in my sweaty condition in shorts and so forth and he said, ‘You are to leave the ship at nightfall with sealed orders.’ I can’t remember at how many bells it was but it was about 7 o’clock. I asked if I could tell the gunroom now and also tell them what I was going to be doing but he said he still didn’t know but I need only take a seaman's bag: ‘I think it is something in the open air and you won’t be there long.’

So I packed a seaman's bag with a few things and the gunroom bar was opened and we drank some beer and then the wardroom sent for me and I had a glass of sherry with them and then off to the Captain to get my sealed orders. On deck I found that the wardroom were all up there, the senior officers, to see me off but none of the gunroom. I thought, well they must still be drinking beer. So I went down into the picket boat and waved goodbye and that was how I left the ship. When we were out of sight of the ship, hidden by other ships because there were many ships in Rosyth, the hatchway opened up and the entire gunroom came out and came down to the after part of the picket boat that I was in and demanded to see my sealed orders. I showed them that they weren’t to be opened until I got ashore. In effect they said they knew that but were coming ashore with me. Then a frightful melee took place when we got ashore and my sealed orders were grabbed and they opened them. All they found inside was another sealed envelope plus one railway warrant to London and I went off to the station. All they knew was that I was going to London and they didn’t open the other sealed orders.

The other sealed orders were marked not to be opened until a hundred miles on the journey. So there they were and that was at about Newcastle and I thought well perhaps this London thing is a blind. Perhaps I am going to get off at Newcastle because that was the nearest point to Germany and all that. Well, I got out and walked up and down the platform. All the sealed orders said was report to the Second Sea Lord, the following morning at The Admiralty at 10.30. There was no need for all that secrecy but still there it was but there was another sealed envelope inside addressed to Admiral Hamilton. So I put that in my pocket and I walked up and down the platform for a bit while the train was waiting at Newcastle and I saw another midshipman, a Midshipman Drew, who was one term senior to me. I didn’t speak to him. I waited for him to speak to me and he called me up and asked where I was going. I told him I am on this train. He said: ‘Well don’t be so cagey about it. Are you going to The Admiralty tomorrow morning?’ I said I was and so he asked if I were going to see the Second Sea Lord. When I had to reply that that was so, he of course told me that we were both in for the same enterprise which was, he said, to sink some cement boats in the Kiel Canal and this seemed to me to be a very alarming prospect which I didn’t like at all and I could quite see why I didn’t really need very much kit.

Anyway we appeared the next morning at The Admiralty and there turned out to be twelve of us and I was the junior of the lot. So I stood in the background. Several of them were acting sub lieutenants and several of us were midshipmen and we went up to the Second Sea Lord's office and the senior spokesman knocked at the door and he was admitted but presently he came out again and was followed by a very tall, splendid looking Commander who said to us in the passage, ‘Second Sea Lord is not in the habit of seeing any officer below the rank of post captain and then only by appointment. You may rejoin your ships.’ So at that point we were rather disconcerted and didn’t know what to do next because we didn’t think we could go all the way back to Rosyth and Scapa Flow. I then announced that I had a letter for Admiral Hamilton and then the Senior Sub Lieutenant said, ‘Well for Christ sake he is The Second Sea Lord, for goodness sake take it in.’ So, I took it in and the Commander took the letter into the Admiral inside and presently I was admitted and he sat at his big desk and looked at me over the top of his spectacles and holding the letter in his right hand he looked at me pretty hard and said, ‘So you are in for this enterprise are you?’ I said, ‘Yes Sir’ and he said: ‘Well, I don’t approve of it, good morning.’ And so I then began to say could you tell me what we are going to do Sir when the Commander clapped a hand on my shoulder and wheeled me out of the office and I was pushed out into the passage again.

Well this was no good so there was a discussion about where we should get a warrant to get back to our ships. Then a door banged down the passage and a figure came out wearing a monkey jacket with brass buttons. We recognized that it was the First Sea Lord, the famous ‘Jackie’ Fisher and what a scowling face he had!

The date was 12 May 1915 at the height of the quarrel between Fisher and Churchill over the deployment of Naval units to the Dardanelles.

The great man said, ‘What are you young officers cluttering up the gangway for?’ The senior acting sub lieutenant said that we were ordered to see the Second Sea Lord and that we have come from the Grand Fleet. The Second Sea Lord doesn’t want to see us and we don’t quite know what to do. Admiral Fisher said that we must be his midshipmen and to come in. We went into his office and stood round his big table. He was obviously furious. He was speechless for a minute or two and then he looked up at us and looked at each one of us in turn standing in a sort of a semi circle round his table and said: ‘If any of you young officers ever rise to high positions and have to deal with politicians, don’t trust them.’ This was his opening remark, which rather shocked us. Nothing more was said for a moment or two and then he went on to say, ‘If I have difficult work to be done and I often do, I prefer to have junior officers to do it. They do what they are told.’ This wasn’t a very promising start. He went on to talk about ‘derring-do’ and he talked about Admiral Nelson with great respect - how brave and splendid he was in many circumstances. This didn’t really hearten us very much indeed because we knew that we were in for some dangerous enterprise, the nature of which we weren’t at all clear about.

So, after he had talked for a good long time he then began to talk, much to my surprise, about Lady Hamilton. He said nobody knew how much was owed to Lady Hamilton whose influence on Nelson was all to the good and had buoyed him up when he needed support and so forth. Then he walked away from his desk and he parted this rank of young officers. He walked across his room. We all continued to look to our front being very disciplined young men. We didn’t look to see what he was doing. I heard him unhook what I thought was a picture off the wall and he walked back carrying what seemed to me to be a picture and he said, I am going to read to you the finest piece of prose in the English language and I didn’t know what it was but it was Nelson's last prayer. At that moment one of the midshipmen blurted out: ‘Please can you tell us what we are going to do Sir?’ and Fisher said, ‘Don’t you know, you are going to fly airships?’ That is really the story of how I became an airship pilot, not really as a volunteer for flying but as one who was ‘selected’ to be a volunteer.

Admiral Fisher, seething with rage over his political subordination and hence defeat by Churchill in their Dardanelles disagreement, was in fact on that very day to vanish from the Admiralty and be uncontactable for some time.

Our training was at Roehampton, living in a splendid house that had been donated or lent to The Admiralty. As preparation for airship pilot training, we did our balloon work at Hurlingham, which was rather a rich man's sports club. Ballooning was quite a thing that used to be done before the war in gas balloons and we learned how the balloons were inflated and the nets put over them. Then we drifted away in our balloons carrying our lunch on board, with maps and so forth wh...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Dedication
• Titlepage
• Copyright
• Content
• Acknowledgements
• List of Illustrations
• Introduction
• SECTION ONE PRE-1914
• SECTION TWO THE FIRST WORLD WAR
• Plates
• Index