A Subaltern's Share In The War

Home Letters Of The Late George Weston Devenish Lieut. R.A., Attached R.F.C.

Lieutenant George Weston Devenish

• Publisher: Lucknow Books
• Year: 2012
• ISBN:
  9781782890768
• Topic: History
• Subtopic: World War I
• Index: History

Lieutenant Devenish celebrated his twenty-first birthday, his last in peace-time, on the 25th of July 1914; he was by this point in his short life a soldier by profession and by choice. Having left Charterhouse with a taste for military ways after training in the O.T.C., he decided that his chosen profession should be spent in the Royal Artillery and entered into further training at Woolwich. By the time war begun in 1914 he was a fully-fledged officer. However, an indomitable spirit and a thirst for a more personal form of combat led him into the Royal Flying Corps. The R.F.C. would mourn his passing on the 6th of June 1917, after only a year of having him in their ranks. George Devenish's name is inscribed on the walls of the Arras Flying Services War Memorial, one of the many Allied fliers who lost their lives during the First World War fighting in the skies above the Western Front. A kindly, sensitive man, but filled with a great deal of passion and pride, his letters are almost always upbeat and despite the carnage around him during the war, he never changed his "sunny disposition".Author — Lieutenant George Weston Devenish 1893-1917Text taken, whole and complete, from the edition published in London, Constable and Company Ltd., 1917.Original Page Count – xviii and 177 pages.

PART I—GOING TO WAR

AUGUST TO NOVEMBER, 1914.

IT has been possible to include nearly the whole of George Devenish’s home letters for the first three months of the war, supplemented by the diary, which he wrote up in hospital, of the last few days before he was wounded.

The names of places were all scrupulously left blank when the letters were written; he filled them in during his last time at home, two years later.

Sunday, August 2nd. Shorncliffe.

“The dance and week-end were a success, weren’t they? I did enjoy them! It was annoying, after getting the wire telling me to rejoin immediately, to find there wasn’t anything particular to do when I got back. But we’re expecting orders to mobilize any moment of the day or night. It rather reminds me of ‘There was a sound of revelry by night.’

“It is rather an interesting contrast, just doing an ordinary day’s work, with perhaps tennis or a dance, and at the same time everyone is ordering new boots, valises, etc., and discussing exactly what they are going to take with them.”

August 4th.

“It is annoying! I got a kick from a horse yesterday, so I shall have to be in bed a day or two. It got me on a muscle of the thigh, so it isn’t very serious just made a small cut. But it makes me fearfully stiff, and I can’t get about yet. The horse was taking another horse’s feed, so I was going up to him to make him eat his own, when he let fly. He always goes on the principle of eating the next horse’s feed first, and then eating his own. I didn’t know the horse, so I wasn’t prepared for him.

“We have had no order to mobilize yet, so we can’t go for another four or five days if we do go. What a good thing we didn’t get called away in the middle of my 21st birthday week-end! It would have been a pity, because it was all so topping.”

August 6th.

“My leg is much better to-day, and I ought to be up to-morrow or the day after. At present, if nothing particularly serious happens, we shall probably start on Sunday week—much later than I expected. I have been detailed to remain at the Overseas Base when we get there, in charge of the first reinforcement. I shall be called up as soon as any replacements are required.”

August 14th.

“I have received the cases and bags and things you sent me. Thank you most awfully for them. They will be very useful. The bags, etc. are rippingly made, and have a very good selection inside them. Thank you most awfully for all the things and for all the trouble you’ve taken over making my things.

“We’ve heard no news yet of when or where we have to go. My leg is almost quite right again now.”

August 22nd.

“I may have to start to-night with my lot. All the others left a few days ago. I’ll write whenever I can.

“Well, good-bye, Father and Mother. I hope to come back covered with medals!“

August 2 3rd. Southampton.

“We got down here about 1 o’clock today, and are going off in the transport this evening.

“Just after I telephoned to you last night, I got a message to say that I had to take all the baggage down to the station immediately, and pack it into trucks. So I had to turn out all the men, get all the kits packed and cart all of them down to the station. It was raining, and we had about 900 kits to take, so we had rather a cheerful evening! Still, it wasn’t so bad, and I slept a lot of the way down in the rain

Good-bye again. Your loving son, GEORGE.”

August 26th. Havre.

“We started from Southampton at about 8 p.m. on Sunday. We had to stop about a mile out, and anchor, as a thick mist came up. The ship was an Argentine cattle-boat, so it wasn’t the height of luxury, especially for the men. Still, it wasn’t bad. I slept out on deck, and the sleeping bag you made was splendid for keeping out draughts.

We got in next day (August 24th) at about midday.”

August 30th. Havre.

“We are still here, and not doing anything much. Yesterday another officer and I were told off to go down to the docks to march some troops up who were arriving there. We went down, but finding no one, went to an hotel and had a bath. It was topping—the first since I left England. We then telephoned Headquarters and found that the troops were not expected till later, so we had dinner at the hotel. During dinner we saw the transport pass up the river, so we dashed out to get a taxi to go to the docks. We couldn’t get one for love or money, but saw a large car outside the hotel. We asked who it belonged to, and found it belonged to an English Admiral who was dining in the hotel. So we tossed up who should ask him to lend it to us. I lost, so, screwing up my courage, I went and asked him. He said he was going to the docks himself in five minutes, so I asked him to give us a lift. He seemed a bit surprised at my asking him for the car, but gave us a lift all right. Rather something to remember, having commandeered an Admiral’s car! “

September 3rd, Thursday. At Sea, between Havre and Nazaire.

“We are now on the sea again, moving on to another place. We started yesterday. The boat is not even as good as the last one. We’ve 6 got about 3,000 men on board (the normal carrying capacity is 45), and there literally is only just room for everyone to lie down, using all decks, from the boat deck to the bottom of the hold. Still, it hasn’t been bad to-day, as it’s been toppingly fine. I have put a dodger, of a mackintosh sheet, on the rail, and sleep in a little corner just next to it on the boat deck.”

September 13th. Monastery of Le Mans.

“We left St. Nazaire on the 10th and came up inland to an advanced Base. We are now camped at an ancient monastery, with a sort of park all round and a river, which is quite good for bathing in. We’re always being told to get ready to move up to the front at any moment, but nothing ever comes of it, as it’s always cancelled at the last moment. It’s a most nasty job this waiting about, as I have about 200 men under me—raw reservists, with no idea of discipline, who have to be driven the whole time and are always being a nuisance in some way or other.

A Subaltern’s Share in the War.

“I have heard that my Brigade has been doing wonders, and got a special letter from General French.”

September 18th. Monastery of Le Mans.

“At last I have orders to be ready to move up to join a battery at any moment. I’m afraid it won’t be to join my own Brigade, though. By an extraordinary piece of luck I managed to raise quite a decent officer’s saddle yesterday. No new officers’ saddles have been sent up here, so officers are issued with ordinary N.C.O.s’ saddles, which are very uncomfortable and inconvenient. But I happened to go down to the Ordnance Depôt yesterday (before I knew I was going to move) and spotted quite a good officer’s saddle under a pile of old saddlery collected at the front. I thought it might be useful, so, after collecting, from all over the place, stirrups, bridle, sircingle, etc., I took it, and now, of course, I’m jolly thankful for it, as it was the only available one in the place. I picked up quite a good hunting saddle at the same time, as I thought it might be useful.

“I got a horse this morning—not very beautiful to look at, but strong and serviceable.”

September 25th. Headquarters 3rd Division.

“I’ve got up to the front at last! It took three days in the train to do about 100 miles to get here. On the way we stopped for the night about ten miles out of Paris, so three other officers and I took a train in, and, after a jolly good dinner at the station, started to go round Paris. It was a most extraordinary sight—like London at about 3 a.m. on a Sunday night—everything shut up and hardly anyone about.

“There were searchlights going on all the time, looking out for aeroplanes. Two French aviators passed us in a car, and promptly offered us a lift, and took us to all the important places. Rather a funny way of seeing Paris for the first time!

“...On the 21st, we got into [Brame] at about 5.30 a.m., on the troop-train, only to find that the tail of our train, with our horses on board, had been dropped off. We therefore walked into the town, while Welch found out about the A.S.C. transport going back to [Fére-en-Torchon], where our horses were, and I bought some meat.

“The town was full of khaki, and the Market Square full of transport, while the church was a hospital. The Germans had been there, but had not done much damage.

“We then all returned to the station, and I borrowed a car from a French officer there, and we transported our kit to the Market Square. Here we got into an empty lorry, and proceeded to have breakfast of biscuits, bully-beef and jam.

“On the way to [Fére-en-Torchon] we passed an ammunition column consisting of every type of commercial lorry. We found our horses and servants at the station, and then walked up to G.H.Q. in the village. Here we went to the Chief Staff Officer for Artillery, who posted us all to various divisions—myself to the 3rd. We then returned to the station, and had our bit of steak cooked, and had lunch at a house nearby, where a funny old Padre was billeted. After lunch we separated, and I arranged for my kit and my servants to go over to [Braine] in a motor-lorry. I then set out riding there, and on the way I saw my first shell burst (I know now that it must have been an anti-aeroplane shell) just above the ridge, miles in front.

“The distance was about eighteen miles, and I didn’t get in till dark, about the same time as my servant and groom, who were put down by a large house at the entrance to the village. I found that some officers were billeting in this house, so I went in and asked the Major (Royal Irish, I believe) if I could stop the night there. He was very hospitable, and said I could. So I picketed my horse in the garden and had my kit brought in. It was quite a large house, and had been turned upside down by the Germans. I actually got a mattress, with sheets and blankets, on the floor (the first bed since England). It was luxurious. The dining-room, where we had our meal, was a fine room, oak-pannelled. We had fried bully for dinner, and hot rum after.

“I went up to the 3rd Division H.Q. after breakfast next morning. It was a large country house on a rise just outside the town. Staff officers, orderlies, etc. were all over the place; motor cycles and cars in yard and drive, and horses picketed on the lawn. You could hear our guns firing from the ridge above—about a mile further on.

“After waiting a bit I got hold of a Gunner Staff Officer, and he told me to go down to the station, where I should find the Staff Captain, who would tell me off to a Brigade. So I went down and he told me off to the 40th Brigade, telling me to go up and join them that evening. In the meanwhile I helped to detrain some horses. I returned to my billet for lunch (a piece of steak purchased in the town) and afterwards got my kit packed up and taken round to the billet of the 40th Brigade Ammunition Column, but as they were sending no wagons up to the Brigade, I started off with my valise on my horse up a very muddy and steep road. It had got quite dark by the time I reached the few houses of [Brenelle], and, on inquiry, I found that the Artillery Division H.Q. was there. It was at a largish farm, belonging to the mayor, so I went there to inquire the way. There I found General W—, who said I should not be able to find the way at night, so had better stop there. He asked me to dinner. Towards the end of an extremely good dinner, the Colonel of the 40th Brigade turned up, so he said I could come back with him, and we set out by a very muddy track along the ridge. When we arrived, I found to my surprise that we were housed in enormous caves, horses included. I slept that night in the Brigade H.Q. cave.

“Next morning the Adjutant took me along t...