Bristol Times 05 November 2013

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05 NOV 2013

Celebrating our proud history and keeping your memories alive

Page 8 Poppies: The scarlet flower of remembrance

More memorials Just what did happen to this one at St Philips?

Pages 3 & 4 Page 5 Laughter from the trenches with Ole Bill!

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This coming Sunday is Remembrance Sunday, and next year will see a massive nationwide programme of events to commemorate the 100th anniversary of the outbreak of the First World War. This week, we are devoting the whole of Bristol Times to these two themes, with articles on some of Bristol’s war memorials, the origin of the poppy as a symbol of remembrance, and a look at what is planned locally for 2014 – and how you and your family can participate.

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Tuesday, November 5, 2013

A MONUMENTAL ACHIEVEMENT Nowadays, the cenotaph in Bristol’s city centre is one of the principal focuses of Remembrance events. Yet ours was almost the last major civic monument to be built in Britain. Dr Sarah Whittingham tells the story of how it was finally built after seemingly endless delays.

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T is a boiling hot Sunday afternoon in June 1932, and 50,000 people are packed into the centre of Bristol. They have come to witness the unveiling of a memorial to the 6,000 Bristolians killed in the Great War. It’s nearly 14 years since Armistice Day, but time has not blunted the crowd’s emotions.

Before the day is out there are 250 cases of fainting – some caused by the heat, but others by the tension of the occasion.

Among the spectators are the many mothers, wives, sisters and daughters of those killed. But one woman in particular has a special connection to the cenotaph – she designed it.

The winners of the competition for this significant work, universally (then and now) described as Messrs Heathman & Blacker are, in fact, Mr Harry Heathman and Miss Eveline Blacker – one of the earliest female architects in the country, and Bristol’s first.

By 1932 it was rather late in the day to be putting up a war memorial – Bristol was almost the last city in the country to do so.

A small committee was set up soon after hostilities ceased in 1918, but nothing materialised, and it wasn’t until 1925 that planning started again. In many places the question of what sort of memorial should be erected was hotly debated.

In Bristol it soon became clear that not enough money was going to be raised to build homes or hospitals for veterans or the dependents of those killed. So the Bristol War Memorial Committee decided to concentrate on a symbolic monument, and started to look for a site.

A number were suggested, including the Downs, the Horsefair, and Old Market, but all, for various reasons, were considered unsuitable. Three were given close consideration: College Green in front of Bristol Cathedral; the Tramways Centre, which was then used for the annual Remembrance Services; and the northern end of Colston Avenue where the River Frome had been covered over in 1893.

Throughout the late 1920s questions of ‘where?’ and ‘what?’ continued to be brought up in both the Council House and letters to the press. But, in November 1929, the committee definitely concluded that, probably owing to the length of time that had elapsed since the end of the war, large sums were not going to be forthcoming from the Bristol public.

By now, numerous memorials had been constructed in various districts of the city, as well as in schools, offices, and factories, and there must have been a feeling that this memorial was too late.

In June 1930, the committee presented its report to the council. It recommended Colston Avenue as fulfilling the requirements of proximity to the city centre, easy access, and having the space to host the annual Remembrance Day service.

The area was a bit of a mess at the time, but it was hoped that placing the memorial there would lead to its transformation. The report was approved, and the council agreed to bear

the cost of clearing and preparing the site.

At this point, the campaign was taken up by the Bristol Times and Mirror and the Bristol Evening Times and Echo. They raised just under £1,700 from readers and, in January 1931, a competition for local architects was launched in the Bristol Evening Times, “it being the express wish of the Bristol War Memorial Committee and of the people of Bristol themselves that a Bristol architect should design the memorial”.

George Lawrence, the partner of architect Sir George Oatley, best known for his design of the Wills Memorial Building, was appointed assessor. Lawrence short-listed three entries from the 18 received and at the end of May they were published in the Bristol Evening Times and put on display at the art gallery in Queen’s Road for the public to vote on.

Charles Roy Beecroft was placed third, Adrian E Powell second, and the people of Bristol chose Eveline and Harry’s design as the one to honour their “sons and daughters who gave their lives in the Great War”.

All three designs were influenced by architect Edwin Lutyens’ cenotaph – an empty tomb or monument erected in honour of a deceased person whose body is elsewhere – in Whitehall in London.

This had been unveiled in 1920, and a cenotaph subsequently became quite a common choice in many towns and cities. This was because it has no particular religious or other association, but commemorates all the fallen, irrespective of creed, rank, or sex.

Lawrence might have decided, in view of the amount of time that had passed, that the design should not be controversial. Figurative sculp-

● The Bishop of Bristol looks on as Field Marshal Sir William Birdwood unveils the memorial (Bristol Record Office Reference No 17563). Left, how an illustrator for the newly founded Bristol Evening Post saw it. The spirit of a dead Tommy looks on as the monument is dedicated ture could have been too divisive, or even shocking, for a general memorial. An abstract design had less potential to be so, but could also be more powerful.

Heathman and Blacker’s cenotaph, faced with Portland Stone, is just over six metres high and stands on a single step on a wide base of three steps, with four rectangular blocks at the corners. On each main face is a large stone laurel wreath over a bronze sword, which were originally gilded. Just above the base of the monument, a frieze, carved with 12 circular reliefs of regimental insignia, runs around all four sides, and on each short side are bronze casts of Bristol’s coat of arms. On top is a sarcophagus with consoles at each end, and fasces (a bound bundle of rods symbolising strength through unity) lying on each side.

On the south side, a bronze plaque with two downward-pointing torches is inscribed with lines from the hymn, O Valiant Hearts. The hymn’s patriotic and chivalric words were written by John Stanhope Arkwright, and published in a collection called The Supreme Sacrifice and Other Poems in Time of War in 1919.

The Reverend Charles Harris set them to music and, although Gustav Holst and Vaughan Williams subsequently composed different settings, Harris’ music remains the favourite for remembrance services around the country every November.

“ Sacred to the memory of Bristol’s sons and daughters, who made the supreme sacrifice. They died that mankind may learn to live in peace.

The wording on the bronze plaque

The unveiling ceremony of the Bristol cenotaph commenced at 3.30pm on June 26, 1932, with the singing of this hymn.

However, perhaps the words on the north face of the cenotaph were of more significance in 1932, by which time Adolf Hitler, who was considerably affected by his and Germany’s experiences in the Great War and its aftermath, had begun his rise to power.

Two years earlier, Alderman Robert Lyne, of the council’s War Memorial Committee, had defended memorials against the accusation that they glorified war. He wrote that “the men who died and who were remembered by the memorial had died that mankind might learn to live at peace”.

The British Legion asked to use Lyne’s words on the cenotaph, and he later wrote that he was proud that they “may live after me”.

In Roman capitals on a bronze plaque, therefore, is: “SACRED TO THE MEMORY / OF BRISTOL’S SONS AND / DAUGHTERS, WHO MADE / THE SUPREME SACRIFICE.” And below, in smaller capitals: “THEY DIED THAT MANKIND MAY LEARN TO LIVE IN PEACE.” Seven years later, world conflict erupted again and sadly the cenotaph, or “Bristol’s Stone of Memories”, as the Bristol Evening Post called it, would also become a memorial to those thousands of Bristolians killed in the Second World War. ■ Dr Sarah Whittingham is writing a book about Eveline Dew Blacker (1884-1956) of Clifton, and would be pleased to hear from anyone who has information about Eveline’s life or sarah.whittingham1@ work.

Email: btinternet.com. For more on Dr Whittingham’s work, see www.sarahwhittingham.co.uk.

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Tuesday, November 5, 2013

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City is full of permanent reminders of the sacrifices made by Bristolians Eugene Byrne looks at the stories behind some of Bristol’s other war memorials

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Arnos Vale Cemetery Britain’s military medical services were extremely efficient during the war. There is one famous story of a local woman in 1914 who flatly refused to believe that her husband was in a Bristol hospital because there simply hadn’t been enough time for him to join his regiment, travel to France, get wounded and be brought back again.

The chances of survival for men wounded on the Western Front were excellent if they could be got to a hospital back in England. Bristol had several war hospitals, some of which set standards which were widely copied elsewhere.

Nonetheless, given the sheer scale of casualties, many men did die in Bristol between 1914 and 1919, of complications arising from wounds, from surgery, and from infections, notably the flu epidemic of 1918-19.

Many of these men – whose numbers included Canadians, Australians, New Zealanders and South Africans as well as Britons – were buried at Arnos Vale.

At the war’s end, the Bristol branch of the Red Cross raised the money for a memorial at a part of the cemetery known as “Soldiers’ Cor ner”.

This large and dignified monument, above, was unveiled by the Duchess of Beaufort on Friday, October 21, 1921. The attending dignitaries included the Lord Mayor and Sheriff of Bristol and representatives of the military and various voluntary organisations as well as a representative from the Australian High Commission.

There is a guided tour of Arnos Vale’s war graves led by Charles Booth, on Saturday November 9, at 1.30pm. Tickets £5 (no concessions), available from the cemetery gift shop, or by calling 0117 971 9117 extn 214. See www.arnosvale.org.uk.

a mine when carrying General Kitchener on a diplomatic mission to Russia in 1916. Six other local scouts are named on the monument.

The money for the memorial was raised in a single day by women volunteers organised by the wife of Downend’s new Scoutmaster.

Fishponds Park The memorial in Fishponds Park is one of the most striking in the west of England. Paid for by the residents of Fishponds – it cost £615 – it was cast by a firm named Humphries and Oakes and made from a life model posing at their Lawrence Hill studio.

The figure of a British/ Dominion infantryman appears to be going through the motions of cheering victory, but with no real enthusiasm. He has a gaunt, hollow face and the thousand-yard stare of someone who’s seen too much.

It was unveiled in a ceremony attended by the Lord Mayor and Lt Col Daniel Burges VC on March 19, 1921.

Downend Scout memorial At the corner of Westerleigh and Badminton Roads in Downend is one of the most unusual memorials in Britain, one of only a handful erected in memory of former local boy scouts who died in the First World War. When it was unveiled on Sunday, April 18, 1920, it was the first of its kind in the country. It was made by a local mason named Dawson.

The first name on the memorial is that of Philip Alexander, who was curate of Downend church in 1909 when he was founder and first Scoutmaster of the Downend troop.

The Reverend Alexander died aboard the cruiser HMS Hampshire when she was sunk by

Clifton College The memorial gate, above, at the college was designed by Charles Holden, a man whose name has been much in the local news recently on account of the Cathedral School’s controversial plans to put its new Free School in the Central Library, which was also designed by Holden.

During the First World War, he served with the London Ambulance Column and later became one of the Imperial War Graves Commission’s principal architects, designing cemeteries and cemetery buildings in Belgium and France.

His gatehouse for Clifton College is a memorial to the former members of the school who had been killed in the war.

The memorial arch, or “Mem Arch” as Clifton pupils call it, was unveiled by Clifton College

old boy Field Marshal Earl Haig in July, 1922.

It is inscribed with the names of 578 Old Cliftonians who had been killed in the war. It now also serves as a memorial for those killed in the Second World War as well.

Also present at the ceremony were the Lord Mayor, the Master of the Society of Merchant Venturers and several other prominent citizens, as well as several Old Cliftonians, including Sir Henry Newbolt, author of the famous poem Vitaï Lampada.

It also featured verse by Newbolt, inscribed

by Eric Gill: From the great marshal to the last recruit, These, Clifton, were thy Self, they Spirit in Deed, The flower of Chivalry, thy fallen fruit, And thine immortal Seed.

The gatehouse is a Grade II listed building.

Pupils passing under it are supposed to do so bareheaded and not put their hands in their pockets.

Stoke Bishop The memorial at Stoke Bishop was dedicated by the Bishop of Bristol at a ceremony on Sunday, May 16, 1920, attended by several hundred people.

The memorial, made of Stancliffe stone from Derbyshire, originally commemorated 38 men from the community who had been killed in the Great War. If you look at it carefully, you’ll see that almost half of the men listed held junior officers’ ranks. This was a reflection not simply of the social make-up of Stoke Bishop, but also of the extremely high casualty rates among junior infantry officers.

The names of local men who died in the Second World War were added later, along with those of a soldier killed in Palestine in the late 1940s, and another who fell in the Korean War.

Shirehampton The war memorial at Shirehampton was unveiled on September 4, 1921, by Brigadier-General the Hon C.G. Bruce. The York stone monument cost £460 and was designed by Ernest Newton R.A. The land was donated by local landowner Philip Napier Miles, who had also chaired the memorial committee.

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RISTOL was late in building its main civic war memorial, much later than most other UK cities. But, by the time it was unveiled, there were already plenty of other memorials in communities, schools and workplaces around the city.

An estimated 55,000 Bristolians, from enthusiastic early volunteers to reluctant later conscripts, had served in the armed forces in the First World War. The overwhelming majority of these had been in the army, and most had been in the trenches at some point.

The precise number of Bristol’s dead is unclear, even today, mostly because many men signed up, or were drafted, in different places to where they had been born, or were living.

There were several army units which were strongly identified with a particular town or city. For example, the 12th battalion of the Gloucester Regiment, known as “Bristol’s Own”, was made up almost entirely of early Bristol volunteers. This was only one of a number of infantry and artillery units which were strongly Bristolian.

But many Bristol men served in units which had no Bristol connections at all. Several hundred who volunteered in Bristol in the first days of the war were sent, believe it or not, to an Irish regiment – the Leinsters.

It may be that research in the coming years will finally be able to pin down the exact number of Bristolians who lost their lives.

What we do know is that of all the men in the forces, just over one in ten never returned.

Those serving in infantry and field artillery units ran a higher risk of death, or serious injury.

The single most dangerous job on the Western Front was that of a junior commissioned officer, a lieutenant or subaltern, in the infantry.

As soon as the war ended, Bristolians started discussing the best way of remembering the dead. As across the rest of the country, there were two schools of thought.

One group thought there should be monuments to serve as a permanent reminder of the sacrifices that had been made.

The opposing view was that monuments were a waste of money. The dead were best remembered, they said, with things that would be of use to the living.

Many communities in Britain still have village halls built to commemorate the dead of the First World War. A few places built hospitals, some of which still survive; there’s a good example in Burnham-on-Sea in Somerset, for instance.

Bristol had some of these “utilitarian” projects. The best-known is, of course, the Memorial Stadium, built to commemorate those Bristol rugby enthusiasts who had been lost in the war.

Bristol’s Homoeopathic Hospital is arguably another, although this was built in memory of a single war loss. Captain Bruce Melville Wills was killed in 1915 and his father, Walter Melville Wills (part of the Wills tobacco dynasty) covered the entire £130,000 cost of the hospital, which was opened by Princess Helena Victoria on May 20, 1925.

For the most part, though, the dead were remembered with memorials, most of which survive to this day.

Here are the stories behind just a few of them.

Bear in mind that these are just some of the larger memorials in the Bristol area.

If your local one has not been included, and you know a little about its background story, please write in and tell us about it.

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Tuesday, November 5, 2013

The stories behind our city’s war memorials CONTINUED FROM PAGE 3 The ceremony began with a service at Shirehampton parish church and then there was a procession to the site, headed by the choir, clergy and the Archdeacon of Bristol, who led the dedication.

Not surprisingly, given that this was Shirehampton, many of the 58 men it commemorates were in the Royal Navy or the merchant service.

Only one of the soldiers was an officer.

In 1988, the Bristol Observer interviewed 86-year-old Louie Gough, of Westbury-on-Trym, who had been voluntarily tending the small garden around the memorial for 68 years. When younger, she had walked the two miles to the memorial from her previous home in Sea Mills pulling a trolley with a lawn mower on it.

Two of the dead named on the memorial were her brothers, Roy and Nelson Sansum, a Private in the 6th Battalion the Glosters and a Gunner in the Royal Field Artillery respectively.

“I’ve looked after the memorial because I knew every one of the boys named,” she said.

“They all lived near my home in Shirehampton and 13 came from one street.”

“I was tremendously close to all my five brothers who fought in the First World War and was fascinated by the stories they told when they came home on leave.”

“Roy and Nelson were marvellous to me and always looked smart and proud in their unifor ms,” she said.

Page Park At a public meeting in May 1919, it was decided that Staple Hill, Downend and Soundwell should commemorate their dead in some practical form. A lot of people liked the idea of a community hall, with a library attached. Others wanted a swimming pool.

Financial reality soon caught up with them. At the end of four years of war, the community, like the country in general, was short of money. Wages were not keeping pace with prices and many men were returning to find that the jobs they had left were not always waiting for them.

So a monument, in the form of a granite obelisk, decorated with bronze mouldings, was commissioned at a cost of £400 and erected at Page Park. It was dedicated at a ceremony on

Saturday, November 20, 1920, attended by at least 2,000 people.

The monument originally listed the names of 167 men of Staple Hill, Downend and Soundwell killed in the First World War. The dead of the Second were added later.

It was unveiled by the area’s great benefactor, Alderman Arthur Page. A successful solicitor and businessman, he had donated the land for the park to the community and, in later years, paid for several of its facilities.

The wreaths that people laid on the monument, said Alderman Page, would fade away, but the memorial would stand for all time to remind future generations of the brave men whose names are engraved upon it.

Westbury-on-Trym The Westbury-on-Trym war memorial was unveiled at 3pm on Sunday, July 11, 1920, at a ceremony attended by the Lord Mayor of Bristol and the Bishop of Bristol. The proceedings had started with a parade to the memorial from Canford Park attended by representatives of the area’s different churches, along with a number of different church choirs.

The unveiling ceremony was notable, however, for one very conspicuous absentee – the Rev Dr H.J. Wilkins, vicar of Westbury-on-Trym.

As in so many other parishes, a committee had been formed after the war to raise money for a memorial. The Bristol architectural firm James and Steadman was commissioned to design it. They proposed an obelisk, and this was where the trouble began.

The Rev Dr Wilkins, who was the local vicar from 1900 until his death in 1941, objected to the design, saying that an obelisk was a “pagan” symbol.

An extremely acrimonious row went on for several months, though with the committee members and the great majority of the public ranged against the vicar. At one point, Rev Wilkins denounced the obelisk from the pulpit, leading to one of his choristers walking out of the service in protest.

The dispute continued in the local press, with most people lining up to say the obelisk was a symbol of immortality, and was often used in cemetery memorials. Others pointed out that

the Christian cross which Wilkins would have preferred was also commonly used in many pagan traditions.

Nonconformists and Roman Catholics had also contributed towards the £750 cost of the monument and none of them were bothered about an obelisk. It was pointed out that the argument, entirely of the vicar’s making, was a painful and unworthy disservice to the memory of those of his parishioners who had lost their lives.

The obelisk was built, and it remains one of the more visible memorials in Bristol, located right in the centre of Westbury village. When unveiled, it featured the names of around 150 men who had died in the war.

Names of local dead from the Second World War were added later, as was the large inscription which features on a lot of war memorials. It comes from the British 2nd Infantry Division memorial at Kohima in India, which commemorates the battle of Kohima-Imphal in 1944, when the Indian/British Fourteenth Army, led by Maj Gen William Slim (born in Bristol) inflicted the first major defeat on the Japanese on land during the Second World War. It reads: “When you go home, tell them of us and say for your tomorrow we gave our today.”

BRISTOL’S LOST MEMORIAL

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Clive Burlton tracks down the story of the war memorial which once stood in St Philips, but whose eventual fate is uncertain ● UNVEILED on December 18, 1920, with a German artillery gun on top, the memorial commemorated exactly 100 “Marsh” men who died in the war.

It should have been for 101, as William Bailey’s details came through too late for the bronze tablet.

The gun was removed by the city council in around 1934, when it became dilapidated.

Under the heading ... “No More War Memorials Wanted in Bristol”, the Western Daily Press reported on the deliberations of the Planning and Public Works Committee that considered a petition from the local British Legion expressing concern at the loss of the memorial and the

feelings of resentment in the community. The petition asked for a stone cross to be placed on top the plinth to replace the gun.

The committee’s views included: “People did not want to see the country studded with more memorials ...”

“People did not want to see memorials everywhere they went ...”

“The memorial had been in a children’s playground, one of the few in the district. We do not want to see children playing round a hideous memorial to war...”

How sentiments changed in just 14 years! Needless to say, the committee did not agree to the proposal.

The concrete plinth was probably removed during the redevelopment of the Marsh area in the Fifties and Sixties.

The space that the memorial occupied is still intact today, and the fate of the bronze tablet is currently not known.

Clive Burlton’s story of Bristol Tommy George Pine, “From Trenches to Trams”, is published by Tangent Books. An exhibition based on the book is on display at Bristol’s Central Library. Clive will be giving a talk about George Pine at the Reference Library at 7.30pm on Monday, November 11.

Admission is free. Call 0117 903 7202 to reserve a place.

St John’s, Clifton The church of St John the Evangelist, above, on the corner of Whiteladies and Apsley roads closed down in the 1980s and was converted into commercial premises, but the local community have “adopted” the memorial which was unveiled in the 1920s, and there’s still a remembrance ceremony at the monument each year.

Pupils at Redland High School have recently been researching some of the names on the memorial with the help of First World War expert, David Whithorn.

With this help they have tracked down a few of the stories behind some of the names.

For example, EH Lyddon and FC Lyddon were brothers, who almost certainly came from an army family. The first was killed at the first battle of Ypres in 1914, while the other died at second Ypres battle in 1915.

Another, Private Cyril Llewellen Prewett served in the Wiltshire Regiment and was killed in August 1917 at the third battle of Ypres (Passchendaele). He has no known grave and is commemorated on the Menin Gate Memorial in Ypres, Belgium. He was aged 25 and married to an “F.H,” who, after Cyril’s death, married a Mr Thomas.

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Tuesday, November 5, 2013

Need a spot of wartime humour? Well, here’s Ole Bill

Latimer’s Diary

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HAT-HO! Since the rest of this week’s BT is devoted to war memorials, and to the forthcoming centenary of the First World War, I thought I’d get in on the act.

Now you might be thinking that a column which about half the time features whimsies and my second-rate attempts at humour is not an appropriate place to be talking about the Great War. Well, I beg to disagree. Bear with me and it’ll all come good.

(I hope!)

Let’s start with a little story with a local angle:

Your local newspaper needs your heirlooms!

Bristol medics discover Bairnsfather originals

● Bruce Bairnsfather’s trench humour. This one’s captioned “Coiffure in the trenches” …

“Keep yer ’ead still or I’ll ’ave yer blinkin’ ear off,” says Ole Bill as a German shell flies overhead. Right, Bruce Bairnsfather’s Ole Bill

The Wipers Times British soldiers in the First World War had a distinctive culture and humour of their own, much of it based on the certain knowledge that people back home had absolutely no idea of what they were going through.

They developed a massive contempt for journalists and newspapers. Try this: Proof That We Are Winning The War

by Belary Helloc In this article I wish to show plainly that under existing conditions, everything points to a speedy disintegration of the enemy. We will take first of all the effect of war on the male population of Germany.

Firstly, let us take as our figures, 12,000,000 as the total fighting population of Germany. Of these 8,000,000 are killed or being killed, hence we have 4,000,000 remaining. Of these 1,000,000 are non-combatants, being in the navy.

Of the 3,000,000 remaining, we can write off 2,500,000 as temperamentally unsuitable for fighting, owing to obesity and other ailments engendered by a gross mode of living. This leaves us 500,000 as the full strength. Of these 497,250 are known to be suffering from incurable diseases.

This leaves us 2,750. Of these 2,150 are on the eastern front, and of the remaining 600, 584 are generals and staff.

Thus we find that there are 16 men on the Western Front. This number, I maintain, is not enough to give them even a fair chance of resisting four more big pushes, and hence the collapse of the western campaign.

That comes from the Wipers Times, a satirical newspaper published intermittently between 1916 and 1918 by soldiers of the 12th Battalion Sherwood Foresters (Nottingham & Derbyshire Regiment).

The first edition came out in February, 1916, and was produced on an abandoned printing press just a few hundred yards behind the front line.

Taking its name from army slang for Ypres, the paper – usually just a single sheet – was filled with ironic, and even cynical humour. It took digs at staff officers safe behind the lines or the frequency of what we now call “friendly fire” incidents.

It also roasted the gung-ho journalists back home; Hilaire Belloc, for instance, was roundly detested by many soldiers for his endlessly optimistic articles, and that’s him being satirised left.

There were also lots of spoof advertisements: DO NOT READ THIS!!! UNLESS YOU HAVE A GIRL AT HOME. If you have, of course you want to send her a souvenir. WE can supply just the tasty little thing you want.

Thousands to choose from; GERMAN SHOULDER STRAPS; 1/- each 10/a dozen DITTO, BLOODSTAINED; 1/6 each 15/- a dozen SHELL HOLES, COMPLETE; 50/- each DUCKBOARDS – ENGLISH; 5/- each DUCKBOARDS – GERMAN; 10/- each IRON CROSS; 6d. a gross OUR SPECIALITY Bullets carefully fixed in Bibles (for maiden aunts)

Which brings us – at last – to the point of this article.

We want drawings and cartoons and examples of humour from among your own family heirlooms.

The First World War, it’s been said, was a uniquely literary war. For the first time in history, almost all the British soldiers taking part in a major conflict could read and write.

The British army on the Western Front also operated an extremely efficient postal service, as it was deemed essential to morale. Soldiers wrote a lot of letters home.

At the same time, few men owned a camera.

They drew pictures in their letters instead.

Here’s one: This is a member of my own family. As you can see, Gunner Mackey was a moderately talented cartoonist. This is his self-portrait from December 1915. It’s one of a number of cartoons he drew in a notebook which is still in the family’s possession. ● Gunner Mackey: “My My bet is moustache, the envy of the that there are Bty.” (battery) lots of Bristol Times readers out there who also have letters, drawings and cartoons made by grandfathers and great-grandfathers who served in the war.

We want to see them!

If you have any letters, postcards, notebooks etc. from relatives serving in the First World War that have sketches, cartoons or drawings them, please scan them, or photograph them, and email them to us.

(Do not send us the originals! You can’t rely on us not to spill tea on them.)

Also tell us a little about your particular relative – his name, which regiment he served with, and what his eventual fate was. If he survived the war, what did he do afterwards?

And not just men, either. The womenfolk also served, as nurses, factory workers, tram conductors, agricultural workers and loads more besides. So we’re every bit as interested in drawings by, and of, women as well.

If we get enough of these, we’ll publish them in a big feature next year. If we get large numbers of them we might even be able to organise a little exhibition somewhere.

Cheers then!

● Get in touch: Email Bristol.Times@ b-nm.co.uk or write to Bristol Times, Bristol Post, Temple Way, Bristol BS2 0BY

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The 1/3rd South Midland Divisional Field Ambulance was a volunteer medical unit from the Bristol area, part of the Royal Army Medical Corps.

They had been part of the Territorial Force before the war. Their headquarters was at Colston Fort, in Kingsdown, and, in the days before war, it was declared they had gone off on their annual summer camp only to be hastily recalled with a one-word telegram from the War Office: “Mobilise.”

As Territorials, they were not moved to the front line right away. Early on in the war the fighting was all done by Britain’s small, professional army – the “contemptible little army” as the Kaiser allegedly called them (though there’s no evidence he ever said anything of the kind).

As the professionals were depleted through death and wounds, the Territorials stepped up.

The year 1915 would be the year in which they, too, would be sacrificed.

The 1/3rd moved first to Chelmsford to await transport to France. Here, they earned early praise for dealing with a serious outbreak of meningitis in the nearby army camps.

The 1/3rd contained the outbreak and, in April, 1915, were able to move to France to take up front line duties as part of the 48th (South Midland) Division. The division was made up almost entirely of former Territorials and included two infantry battalions as well as engineers and artillery men, who came mostly or wholly from Bristol.

Early on, the 1/3rd was based at Plus Douve Farm, just inside the Belgian border, at a place called Ploegsteert, but which was known to Tommies as “Plug Street”. The area would see some of the bitterest fighting of the war.

The walls of the farmhouse were decorated with humorous cartoons and sketches, which delighted the medics. They recognised them as the work of Bruce Bairnsfather.

Bairnsfather was serving with the South Warwickshire Regiment and had been billeted at the farmhouse until a few weeks previously.

What the medics probably didn’t know at the time was that the author of these humorous pictures was at that moment in hospital suffering from hearing loss and shell shock following the Second Battle of Ypres.

Bairnsfather recovered and went on to become hugely popular with his humorous depictions of the war and of military life. His most famous creations were Ole Bill, the curmudgeonly Tommy of uncertain age, with an immense walrus moustache, and, of course, the single cartoon of two Tommies huddling in a shell hole from an artillery barrage, the one saying to the other, “Well if you knows of a better ‘ole, you go to it”.

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www.bristolpost.co.uk

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

Get involved – and help mark the centenary Next year sees the 100th anniversary of the start of the First World War. Eugene Byrne looks at just some of the plans to commemorate the centenary, and at how you can get involved

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EXT year sees the 100th anniversary of the outbreak of the First World War, and we are promised a massive nationwide series of talks, events, TV programmes, plays, exhibitions, books, debates and more.

Bristol has a particularly ambitious programme to mark the centenary. There will be a major exhibition at M shed titled Moved by Conflict, looking at the ways in which people, objects and ideas were moved and changed by the war.

There will be a dedicated Bristol 2014 website, with stories, information and articles about Bristol’s part in the war, along with an online map and smartphone app showing the locations of some of the wealth of interesting, horrific, or just plain odd stories associated with the Bristol area in the war. This will allow opportunities for users to add stories and family legends of their own.

Bristol Festival of Ideas will have a number of free public talks and debates on topics linked to the First World War. At least three books are due to be published, and the BBC’s World War One at Home project will be broadcasting stories from around the country and the region about how the war affected people’s lives on the home front.

St George’s Bristol and the Bristol Music Trust will be exploring changes in musical tastes brought

● acta’s researches have turned up this photo of the women’s football team from the mustard gas factory

about by the war, while the Royal West of England Academy will be putting on an exhibition of war art from the First World War to the present. Various community organisations and churches willalso be putting on projects of their own.

Anticipating an upsurge of interest from people wanting to find out more about ancestors who served in the war, the Bristol and Avon Family History Society will be on hand to help.

Much – though not all – of the Bristol programme is being co-ordinated by the Bristol Cultural Development Partnership (BCDP), the same people who brought you the Brunel 200 celebrations in 2006, and the BAC 100 events around the centenary of Bristol’s aerospace industry.

Andrew Kelly, director of BCDP, told Bristol Times: “Bristol is likely to have the largest programme of activity in the country in 2014. We’ve always been keen to commemorate the First World War – it had a huge impact on Bristol, though this is not as well known as the impact of the Second World War on the city.

“We’re covering the full range of activity, from those who opposed the war to those that went to fight; from Bristol being a prime centre for war munitions and fighter planes to being the centre of the importation of horses to serve; from the home front

● Fighting fit. The 12th Battalion the Gloucestershire Regiment in training at White City, Bristol, late 1914. The Battalion was made up almost entirely of volunteers from Bristol and quickly became known as ‘Bristol’s Own’. It took over the former Bristol International Exhibition site at White City, near Cumberland Basin, to use as its temporary home. to the Western Front; from the city before war broke out to what happened in Bristol afterwards.”

A number of organisations around the area are looking for help from the public. Here are just some of the appeals that we know about:

maybe about a relative, staff or patient, or even a postcard from the period which can be scanned, please email involvingresidents@ gmail.com or call 07968 869840.

Glenside Hospital Museum

Curators at M shed are looking for objects and stories for their exhibition Moved by Conflict, which will be at M shed from October, 2014, to March, 2015.

They are particularly interested in objects relating to the Bristol International Exhibition of 1914 (known as “White City” – see picture caption), the Remount Depot at Shirehampton, the mustard gas factories at Avonmouth, women’s war work, conscientious objectors, suffragettes, Bristol’s war hospitals, and Bristolians who emigrated prior to the war and so served with Commonwealth countries.

If you have family stories and material that you would be willing to

The Glenside Hospital Museum, based in the church of what was Bristol’s Victorian asylum, is running a major research project looking at the period when it was used as a military hospital. Known as the Beaufort Hospital during the First World War, it took in huge numbers of casualties. The artist Stanley Spencer famously worked there for a while. The museum project, funded by the Esmee Fairbairn Collections Fund, is researching the museum’s collection of First World War postcards. If you have information about wounded soldiers, however small,

M shed

loan or donate, please contact Catherine Littlejohns, senior collections officer, public history.

Email Catherine.Littlejohns@bristol.gov.uk, or call 0117 903 9816 / 0117 352 6953.

M shed is also holding a Collecting Day this coming Sunday for members of the public to bring in objects, or simply go along for a chat. It runs from 10.30am-4pm and all are very welcome.

acta Community Theatre Bristol community theatre company acta is creating a play about the women who worked at the mustard gas factories in Bristol in 1918, and are seeking any stories that may have been passed down in local families.

The stories will be used as material for acta’s Gas Girls, a show which tells the story of women who worked in the Chittening and Avonmouth factories, which produced mustard gas and filled shells in North Bristol.

There has been little research into this topic.

“We’ve already started on research from the National Archives, newspapers, and Bristol Records Office, but we’re looking for any human stories we can find. Although the people who worked at the factory are long gone, we think there might be family memories, stories passed down from generation to generation, that could help us try to understand the people who worked there,” said acta artistic director, Neil Beddow.

If you have any information, or are interested in the topic and wish to join acta’s Thursday morning research group, please contact Rosalie Pordes at acta community theatre vai email to rosalie@acta-bristol.com.

■ If you are involved in any project to mark next year’s centenary, and are looking for help or information from our readers, get in touch.

■ For news, discussions and information on some of Bristol’s plans for 2014, see the Bristol 2014 Facebook page at www.facebook.com/ Bristol2014

www.bristolpost.co.uk

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

... AND THE MAYOR WORE YELLOW ...

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Picture of the Week

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AST June, a charity supporting local hospitals presented George Ferguson with a pair of yellow – or golden – trousers. He undertook to wear them once the appeal had reached £1 million, and he kept that promise on Friday, October 25, 2013.

On the same day, the mayor turned a few heads when he attended the funeral of veteran heritage campaigner Dorothy Brown wearing the same trousers. Were they, some murmured, “the right trousers”?

“Fancy,” others said, “goin’ to a funeral in yeller trousers.”

The funeral of the irrepressible, the indomitable Dorothy was held at Woodlands Memorial Gardens.

For many, that venue is near to Thornbury, but for the large number who gathered to remember and celebrate the tireless activist, it was the proximity to Acton Court, the Poyntz family mansion that Dorothy Brown had been instrumental in saving, that was particularly poignant.

The funeral drew together many who had stood beside Dorothy as she fought, for example, for Acton Court, or to protect the Gorge when developers wanted to construct a hotel there. Several of the family and friends who spoke during the service referred to the numerous battles that the deceased had entered into, and some spoke of finding consolation in the fact that she was active to the very end. Indeed, she was working on a book about walled cities and making photo-copies of maps in Redland Library when she collapsed.

Heather Leeson, of the Bristol Civic Society, spoke of a campaign against the use of part of the Central Library as a primary school that Dorothy had been waging. Her cause had brought her into conflict with the red, green or, on this occasion, yellow-trousered

mayor, and, when Heather waved one of Dorothy’s campaign flyers, there was a frisson of the sort of engagement Dorothy had always been prepared for.

In the course of the funeral service, reference was also made to the fact that campaign displays Dorothy had prepared about the city’s lost or endangered heritage buildings were currently hanging on the walls of John Wesley’s New Room in the Horsefair.

They will be there until November 23, and, on the afternoon of November 16, they will form the back-drop to a networking event on Bristol’s Heritage Buildings: Relics or Legacies? that Dorothy had helped to plan.

She had, in fact, offered to look after the book stall on the 16th and had donated copies of two of her books (Bristol And How It Grew and Rediscovering Acton Court And The Poyntz Family). These will be on sale at the New Room on November 16.

Dorothy will not be present as she had planned, but Bristol’s city scape and Acton Court provide evidence of what she fought for and what she achieved.

Her legacies also include her published writing, her family, and above all, her example as a concerned, persistent and informed campaigner.

James Gibbs by email

Is clock just a figment of my imagination? ✒I

Bath Road just south of Bath Road Bridge, and it never ceased to fascinate me, even after I discovered the explanation for the time lag.

Do other readers remember it, or is it a figment of my imagination?

Rod Shepherd by email

Remembrance song for Dundry Hill ✒DUNDRY

Hill has just been written into the songbooks by Bristol singer/songwriter Barry Walsh (right). BBC Radio Bristol presenter Steve Le Fevre has called Barry “the new Fred Wedlock” in keeping Bristol landmarks alive in his songs, which include Woods of Leigh (celebrating the Clifton Suspension bridge), At The Curzon (Clevedon’s 100-year-old cinema), Mendip Hills and the Concorde song Beautiful Days, to mention just a few.

Dundry Hill is inspired by the 16 brave men of Dundry who gave their lives in the Great War of 191418, whose names are listed on the memorial stone which stands in the grounds of St Michael’s Church in Dundry.

Following suggestions from audiences who have been moved by this poignant song, Barry plans to gift it to Dundry British Legion and Dundry parish church for use in their remembrance services this November.

The song can be viewed on YouTube – search Dundry Hill and Barry Walsh.

It can also be found on Barry’s latest album Six Colours, which is available at Rise Records, Clifton, on iTunes or from Barry directly.

■ For further information or to contact Barry, get in touch via www.facebook.com/thebarry walshband

Avonmouth) is refuelling on Colston Avenue.

Oil and petrol had to be shipped in (much of it via new facilities at Portishead), but coal was easier to get hold of, so a number of vehicles were converted to run on gas. The big bag on the roof of the Number 28 is being filled with town gas

piped over from Canons Marsh.

Vehicles usually ran perfectly well on gas, though the engines had a tendency to backfire.

Bristolians who remembered the gas buses always remarked on how they would frequently let off a series of frightening bangs – rather like machine-gun fire.

Remembrance poem ✒BRISTOL Times reader Colin Elvins

sent us this poem a few weeks ago, but we thought we’d save it until now, with Remembrance Sunday coming up. Four of Mr Elvins’ uncles served in the Great War, and two were killed on the Somme.

Can I Forget?

(For all the great survivors of the Great War.) Can I forgive, can I forget all wars great sorrows and hope to build some new tomorrows?

Can I forget black days and nights and lay to rest my past deepest frights?

Can I forget my hidden fears and dry my eyes that shed many tears?

Can I forget the sickening sights of much horror that plagued me through the nights?

Can I forget the outstretched hands that begged for life on blood soaked lands?

Can I forget the cries and wails?

No church of prayer see I, nor hear I bells.

Can I forget the bayonets charge of men that died, the count so large?

Can I forget this pain of life the pain so great of death so rife?

Can I forget the sea of blood that ebbed and flowed, like a raging flood?

Can I forget the hate I felt?

A hate I endured that still won’t melt.

Can I forgive the enemies’ sorrows?

I know not I, until my new tomorrows.

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WAS very interested in your article on “Bristol time” in Bristol Times (October 22). It brought back a distant memory of seeing a clock displaying this time, some 10 minutes behind GMT. The clock was on a building (long since demolished) on the left side of

● AS the rest of this week’s Bristol Times has a First World War theme, we thought we’d show you this one we recently dug out from the archives down in the bowels of the Post building.

It’s 1917, or possibly 1918, and the 28-seater Bristol-built number 28 bus (Tramways Centre to

by C P Elvins

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www.bristolpost.co.uk

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

SCARLET FLOWER OF REMEMBRANCE Every year we commemorate the war dead by wearing poppies, and laying wreaths of them at monuments. Dr Nicholas Saunders of Bristol University here explains how it became the symbol of remembrance

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URING the First World War, soldiers experienced conflicting images of the crimson poppy and scenes of carnage on the battlefields. Corn poppies were imagined as the spirits of the dead rising from the blood-drenched earth – “thrusting from the lips of craters, undaunted by the desolation, heedless of human fury and stupidity,” as the fighter-pilot Cecil Lewis observed.

Fred Hodges, a veteran, remembered how “One day I picked a bunch of red field poppies from the old grassy trench and put them in the metal cup attached to my rifle . . . I was acutely conscious of them growing there in the midst of all that man-made destruction”.

In a Flanders dugout, Sapper Jack Martin recorded in his diary that “we have a vase of small marguerites and flaming poppies … The vase is an old 18-pounder shell case that we have polished up and made to look very smart”.

It was John McCrae, a Canadian soldier-surgeon, who crystallised soldiers’ feelings in his 1915 poem In Flanders Fields. Crouching at the entrance to his dugout, just outside of Ypres, McCrae gazed on the small battlefield cemetery where he had just buried a good friend. From his grief he conjured the poem, immortalising the poppy in his opening stanza, In Flanders fields the poppies blow, Between the crosses, row on row.

The poem became a touchstone of emotion for the war generation, striking a chord with soldiers and public alike. Reprinted many times, it was used to raise money and morale for the war effort.

In Flanders Fields established the corn poppy as the symbolic flower of the Great War, but did not guarantee its post-war emergence as an international symbol of commemoration.

This final transformation took place in New York in the days leading up to the Armistice of November 11, 1918.

It was here that Moina Michael, an unassuming middle-aged school teacher, had what she called a spiritual conversion.

Moina chanced upon McCrae’s poem in a magazine. She imagined the voices of the dead on the Western Front calling on her to convert the scarlet flower into a sacred emblem of their sacrifice. She pledged her soul, she said, to “that crimson cup flower of Flanders, the red poppy which caught the sacrificial blood of ten million men dying for the peace of the world”.

Her boundless energy overcame many hurdles and, in 1921, the poppy was adopted as the official remembrance flower of the United States. The Buddy Poppy, as it was rechristened in 1924, remains America’s na-

IN FLANDERS’ FIELDS

By John McCrae, 1915 In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved and were loved, and now we lie

tional flower of war commemoration to this day.

Meanwhile, Anna Guérin, a French widow, championed the manufacture of silken red poppies in the devastated areas of France, and sold them across the world to raise money for French war orphans. In the USA, Moina won the day when she supported American veterans who decided that their own disabled comrades should make poppies, and not import them from France.

Undaunted, Anna Guérin sealed the poppy’s international success by travelling to Canada, and her representatives to Australia and New Zealand, all of which adopted the commemorative flower, and placed orders with her French poppy makers. She visited London too, where she convinced the British Legion to embrace the poppy. The Legion soon began making its own artificial flowers for their Poppy Day Appeal.

Buying a Remembrance Day poppy in Britain

from 1921 directly supported the war-wounded, who were employed in the British Legion’s newly established poppy factory.

The beginnings were modest, in a small room above a shop off the Old Kent Road in south east London. The operation soon moved to Richmond, in Surrey, and then, in 1933, it moved again to a purpose-built factory nearby, where it remains to this day.

The symbolism is as poignant and appropriate today as it was at the time. Men shattered by war created poppies to commemorate their fallen comrades and raise money to support themselves and the bereaved.

During the inter-war years of 1919-1939, crimson poppies for the living and counterpart wreaths on headstones and memorials became a new tradition.

As war loomed once again, people visited the desolate battlefields of the old Western Front.

They fell silent only to ponder or weep, to buy souvenirs, and imagine their loved ones who had once passed this way. They set down their poppies on memorials, in cemeteries, and at the edge of bomb craters.

The Remembrance Day poppy flourished, renewing itself each year, bringing hope to families decimated by the war. Wearing the poppy was an act of faith and solidarity with the dead and the living, and seemed to promise that such terrible sufferings would never be repeated.

Strange sights were seen in Britain. A poppy-decked elephant paraded the streets of Leeds in 1924, and in the same year a poppy-covered goat hauled a miniature replica of Wimbledon’s war memorial around south London streets. In the grounds next to London’s Westminster Abbey, a single wooden cross stood alone until 1928 when passers-by began planting their own poppies alongside – and the Field of Remembrance was born.

In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe: To you from failing hands we throw The torch; be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die We shall not sleep, though poppies grow In Flanders fields.

The commemorative poppy changes also to suit different times and different wars. Passengers at London’s Heathrow airport were astonished in 2008 to see a huge Poppy Man, pictured left, towering five metres tall, and swathed in 8,000 scarlet poppies. The giant figure had been invented for the Royal British Legion. It connected with a younger generation in a more original and meaningful way than previous campaigns that had relied on the endorsements of celebrities.

The Legion launched its 2008 Poppy Day Appeal by taking Poppy Man to southern Iraq, where he posed alongside British soldiers, calm and surreal among the chaos of war. He stood alongside troops in Basra at a service of dedication at a memorial wall commemorating fallen British soldiers in Iraq.

Poppy Man taps into the core of the Remembrance Day poppy – honouring the past, but resolutely contemporary, forever relevant to the young men who die and are wounded far from home, and who leave parents, wives, sweethearts and children behind.

Every year, around 80 million people across the world buy a Flanders poppy in one of its many forms, participating in its message of remembering and honouring the war dead.

Given its literary status by John McCrae, and its final shape by Moina Michael and Anna Guérin, the commemorative flower is arguably one of the most evocative and enduring symbols of our humanity.

■ Dr Nicholas Saunders is a lecturer in the Department of Archaeology and Anthropology at Bristol University and is one of the world’s leading experts on the archaeology of the First World War. His new book The Poppy: From Flanders Fields to Helmand Province, has just been published by OneWorld.

See http://tinyurl.com/The-Poppy.

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