In the Event of My Death

The Life of an Ordinary Man

“In the event of my death, I give the whole of my property and affects (sic) to my mother, Mrs. William Fowler”[1]

                        -Excerpt from the Military Will of Cpl H Fowler, dated 9 June 1916

I am often thanked, quite graciously, when I can provide some input to a question of history.  My response to that gratitude is an equally sincere, and most literal use pf the phrase “my pleasure.”  What I get to do in this, from time to time, is not only help find the answer sought, which is gratifying in itself, but I get to meet, in a sense, the ordinary people who have made our history; those who have witnessed poignant moments of the past and some, like Corporal Harry Fowler, 44^th Battalion, CEF, who contributed everything they had to the event.

A young woman, involved in Canada’s cadet program (a youth program of citizenship and leadership based upon the three branches, RCN, Canadian Army and RCAF of our Armed Forces) had taken on a research project investigating a soldier from her home province of Newfoundland who had served, and died in the First World War.  Some questions on clarification had been passed along and appeared on a social network page I follow on my news feed.  I was only too happy to provide an answer, and in doing so came to know about a life I may otherwise have not.  Circumstance of history and the way in which Library and Archives Canada (LAC) are pursuing their work helped a great deal.  Cpl Fowler, though from Newfoundland joined the Canadian Army from where he was at the time, Winnipeg, Manitoba.  Had he joined in Newfoundland, it would have been harder to get his records.  As Newfoundland and Labrador didn’t Confederate with Canada until 1949, military records for the province for both World Wars are not in the National Archive.  Also, as LAC is diligently preserving all WWI service records digitally and are working alphabetically, it’s fortunate the subject had a surname closer to the top end.

Why Harry Fowler, a labourer from Brigus, Conception Bay, Newfoundland was in Winnipeg can only be guessed at a century on, but it is most likely he went to the mainland to find work.  Before the war, both Canada and Newfoundland had been in recession and going afield to find decent paid work for the unskilled was a common occurrence.  We also cannot guess at his motives for joining the army- the reasons could range from patriotism to the promise of regular pay or a mixture of many things.  Whichever they may have been, on the 4^th of June 1915, he was attested to the 61^st Battalion for overseas service.[2]

The 61^st trained in Canada for nearly a year, sailing for Great Britain aboard the SS Olympic on the 21^st of April, 1916.  The Battalion’s embarkation, it seems, was delayed so that their hockey team could compete for the 1916 Allan Cup, which they won after defeating all opposition.[3]

The article posted to MyWestman.ca regarding the 61^st’s hockey triumph, also tells us the fate of the Battalion when it arrived in Britain: “Once there the unit was broken up and the soldiers in the battalion redistributed to Canadian army units in France as replacements. This was a common occurrence and many battalions raised on the Prairies and the rest of Canada were broken up once they arrived in Britain and the soldiers sent on to other units. While the breaking up of units was hard on the morale as soldiers suddenly lost the companionship of men they had trained with and perhaps enlisted with, the leadership felt it was better that veteran units were kept up to strength as these units had actual experience on the battlefield and could better pass on this experience to new re-enforcements.”[4]

Harry Fowler was transferred to the 44^th Battalion which subsequently departed for France as part of the 4^th Canadian Division in August of 1916.  The 4^th Division’s arrival completed the Order of Battle of the Canadian Corps, though it would be several months before all four of the Corps’ divisions were assembled together.  Before that point, these new units arriving went through work-up training in the field under the supervision of more veteran units, and took part in the closing phases of the Battle of the Somme.  During this period, Fowler was twice wounded. On the 23rd Oct 1916 “Four Other Ranks were wounded on carrying party of last night.”[5] Fowler was one of the four wounded, receiving a “GSW” to his right cheek.[6]  GSW stands for “Gun Shot Wound”, but does not necessarily mean he took a bullet to the face.  GSW is a medical catch-all for any wound caused by fragments, whether they be rifle bullets, shell splinters or shrapnel.  As his records indicate he was in hospital for only one day, it can be reasonably assumed that the wound was superficial and none too serious.  The wound happened whilst he was, with others from his unit, carrying rations from a supply dump to the front line.

20 Nov 1916 “Enemy’s artillery active during relief.  Casualties 2 OR[Other Ranks] killed and 4 OR wounded.”[7]  This matches Fowler’s record of going into hospital on 21 November after being “Buried by Shell.”[8]  This happened when the 44^th Bn was being relieved at the front line by the 73^rd Bn.  Reliefs such as these were part of a regular series of rotations.  “Once in the line, the rotation of trench duties followed a set pattern.  The usual routine for infantrymen in France was as follows: three weeks or a month moving between the front, support and reserve lines, passing five or six days in each...then followed perhaps ten days at a rest camp eight or ten miles back, or occasionally a still longer period twenty to thirty miles to the rear.”^[9]  Such movements were bound to attract enemy attention, and an increase in artillery during a relief was a fairly expected event.

Neither wound seems to have been serious as he returned to duty rather quickly, and no treatment records are part of his file. 

In January of 1916, Fowler was selected for an NCO’s course, the need for junior leaders for upcoming operations was an integral part of the planning of this offensive.  He was promoted to Corporal on the 21^st of January.

The operation being prepared for was the Canadian Corps’ attack on Vimy Ridge, part of the opening moves of the Battle of Arras, April 1917.  4^th Canadian Division formed “the left flank of the Canadian Corps Operation (with) the 11^th and 12th Canadian Infantry Brigades attacking HILL 145, with the 10^th Canadian Infantry Brigade in support.”[10]  As part of the 10^th Brigade, the 44^th Battalion would not be going into action on the first day.  Two battalions, the 44^th and the 50^th were scheduled to advance the following day, to capture a feature known as “the Pimple” meaning to have it in possession and consolidated against counterattack by midnight, 10^th April. 

It was that “on the left, the 4^th Division had some of the toughest objectives….(the Division) faced Hill 145, the highest point of the ridge and the best defended.”[11] The highest feature of a high feature, Hill 145 “was the lynch pin on the German defence.  It had to fall.”[12]  By late evening on the 9^th, after a daring assault by the 85^th(Nova Scotia Highlanders) Battalion, most of this high ground was won, “except for the upper summit…and parts of the eastern slope…the 44^th and 50^th Battalions sere sent in.”[13]

Lt Colonel Reginald Danbury Davies, the commanding officer of the 44^th, a man of exceptional courage (he was awarded three Distinguished Service Orders and was five times Mentioned in Despatches for his service in France),[14] wrote that “at 6 PM on the 9^th orders were received cancelling the attack on the PIMPLE area. The Battalion (took position) behind the Battalions of the 11^th Canadian Infantry Brigade, whose attack had been held up in the neighbourhood of HILL 145.”[15] Colonel Davies continues, “At 11 AM April 10^th, I received orders to capture and consolidate, as an outpost line, the eastern edge of VIMY RIDGE lying beyond Hill 145.”[16]  ‘C’ and ‘D’ Companies of the 44^th were the battalion’s assaulting units, moving towards their objectives at 3:15 that afternoon.  This meant that the Battalion would be going into action at short notice against an objective they had not specifically trained for.  The months preceding the battle, and part of the tremendous success of the ridge’s capture, were spent in the meticulous planning, training and rehearsing for the very specific jobs each unit would be expected to undertake in the battle. 

It is quite remarkable, and in fact a testament to the high level of proficiency in that preparatory training of the Canadians that the 44^th Battalion went into the attack after having moved from the positions they had taken up for the now cancelled attack on the Pimple to this new, supporting assault and moved forward behind a covering barrage mere hours after receiving their updated orders. ‘C’ and ‘D’ Companies had reached their objectives and made contact with each other within the hour, despite “’D’ Company had some difficulty in clearing the wood.  Mopping up parties moved through to farther edge capturing a good number of prisoners.  Very heavy casualties were inflicted on parties of enemy who attempted to escape through the wood.”[17]  It was later found that the 44^th had attacked an enemy force which outnumbered them two to one.

The Battalion’s casualties in this operation were reported as one officer and fourteen OR’s killed, four officers and seventy-one OR’s wounded, ten OR’s missing.[18]

Cpl Fowler was among the dead. We may not know what he did on that day, or how he met his death, but he was among men who accomplished a great feat that day, and so he counts as he should for his part in that accomplishment.  He has no known grave and is thus listed by name on the Vimy Memorial with 11 000 other members of the Canadian Army whose bodies were not recovered or whose remains were not identified, becoming, like so many others of this war “Known Unto God.”  Whatever personal effects Cpl Fowler had in his barracks kit- those items not taken into battle- would have, in accordance with the will he wrote just ten months prior, been sent to his mother in Conception Bay, Newfoundland.

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[1] 460060 Fowler, H Service Records, Courtesy Library and Archives Canada

[2] 460060 Fowler, H Service Records

[3] http://www.mywestman.ca/community-news/3271-the-61st-overseas-battalion-1916-allan-cup-champions

[4] http://www.mywestman.ca/community-news/3271-the-61st-overseas-battalion-1916-allan-cup-champions

[5] War Diary, 44^th Battalion CEF, 23 October 1916, Courtesy Library and Archives Canada

[6] 460060 Fowler, H Service Records

[7] War Diary, 44^th Battalion CEF, 20 November 1916, Courtesy Library and Archives Canada

[8] 460060 Fowler, H Service Records

[9] Pateman, John, “Seven Steps to Glory: Private Pateman Goes to War” Lulu.com. pg 30

[10] Operations Order Number 53, 10^th Canadian Infantry Brigade, April 1917, courtesy Library and Archives Canada

[11] Morton, Desmond & J.L. Granatstein, “Marching to Armageddon: Canadians and the Great War 1914-1919” Lester&Orpen Denys, 1989 p 143

[12] Cook, Tim, “Shock Troops: Canadians Fighting in the Great War 1917-1918”, Penguin Canada, 2008 pg. 134

[13] Cook, Tim, ibid. pg. 136

[14] Davies, Reginald Danbury, Lt Col. Service Records, Courtesy Library and Archives Canada

[15] War Diary, 44^th Battalion CEF, Appendix I, Page 1, April 1917

[16] War Diary, 44^th Battalion CEF, Appendix I, Page 1, April 1917

[17] War Diary, 44^th Battalion CEF, Appendix I, Page 1, April 1917

[18] War Diary, 44^th Battalion CEF, Appendix I, Page 2, April 1917

Valour and Sacrifice

“On a 16-mile front between Gommecourt and Maricourt, 73 infantry battalions, some 55 000 British and French soldiers left their trenches and swept towards the German front line….It was not the first, last or biggest push, yet the events of 1 July 1916 were to make it the most notorious.”[1]

Last year, right before taking a rather long break to work on the manuscript of my first novel  “Killing is a Sin” (publication pending), I wrote a two-part series on the intended nature of the battle of the Somme.  As I am quite satisfied that I illustrated my intended points, I did not wish to revisit the subject (they can be viewed here: Part One and Part Two), but with the centennial of the events of 1^st July 1916, I feel compelled to submit something reflecting the grave nature associated with that day’s actions.

What comes up in the public conscious upon the anniversary of the opening day of the Somme, more than anything is the large, unprecedented and unsurpassed number of casualties.  “The British army suffered 57, 470 casualties that day, 19,240 of them were killed or died of wounds.”[2]  It is a staggeringly tragic number, so much so because such a figure can be difficult to conceive in the abstract.  My favourite analogy is to invite the observer to imagine the seating capacity of a modest sports stadium.  With the Euro Cup in full swing, this is a readily available visual cue. 

Adding to the sense of tragedy is the generally held notion that these casualties occurred in a senseless, futile and unsuccessful attack which was only the beginning of a months’ long campaign that overall failed to gain anything significant.  It is my position that to classify this as a terrible loss to no gain not only skips over practical history, thinking of the day as entirely futile erodes the value of sacrifice these tens of thousands made.

The issue with our perception at this remove of so many deaths all at once is that it challenges our desire to apply meaning to human life, which is part of the psychology of our own awareness of mortality found in the theory of “Terror Management.”  “Terror Management Theory…starts with the idea that humans, unlike other animals, face something that is potentially terrifying: the awareness of our own mortality coupled with the desire to live….humans developed cultural symbols of meaning and value that offer a sense of significance and importance, and ultimately, immortality, when people live up to and sustain the standards of these beliefs (hence the human need for self-esteem), as a means of coping with their own death.”[3]  This is why battlefields are commemorated with statues and memorials to the fallen and is a large motivating force behind the mandate of the Commonwealth War Graves Commission.  (For more on this theory and the CWGC please see my post on the subject, found here.)

With that in mind, it can be understood how, a century later, we still find it difficult to reconcile the record casualties of 1^st July 1916.  For, if we cannot fathom a purpose to the deaths of twenty thousand, we might struggle to assign purpose to our own lives and inevitable deaths.  I propose, then, to examine the deaths of six individuals, narrowing by a great margin the scope of the day’s fatalities in the hope that the record of sacrifice of these six men may better enable us to assign that sought after significance to our own mortality.  These six, Temporary Major Stewart Loudoun-Shand, Captain John Green, Temporary Captain Eric Bell, Temporary Lieutenant Geoffrey Cather, Sergeant James Turnbull and Private William McFadzean were all awarded the Victoria Cross, posthumously, for their actions on the 1^st of July 1916.

Temporary Major Loudon-Shand was mortally wounded whilst encouraging his men forward when taken under “very fierce machine gun fire.”  His citation reads in part “Maj. Loudoun-Shand immediately leapt on the parapet, helped the men over and encouraged them in every way.”[4]

Captain Green, of the Royal Army Medical Corps “went to the assistance of an officer who had been wounded”, despite being wounded himself.  He was able to free his comrade from German wire entanglements and move the man into cover to dress his wounds, whilst being under heavy fire the whole time.  In attempting to move the wounded officer into safe cover he ‘had nearly succeeded in doing so when he was killed.”[5]

Temporary Captain Bell, commanding a trench mortar battery “gave his life in his supreme devotion to duty” which included single handedly reducing an enemy machine gun and “on no less than three occasions…went forward alone and threw Trench Mortar bombs among the enemy.”  He was killed while attempting to organise groups of soldiers who had lost their officers; all of his actions were beyond the scope of his usual duties.[6]

Temporary Lieutenant Cather “in full view of the enemy and under direct machine gun fire and intermittent artillery fire” went out into No-Man’s Land on several occasions, bringing back four wounded men and delivering water to several others to be rescued later.  It was during one of these sorties, at about half past ten the morning of 2^nd July that he was killed.  Lt. Cather’s actions, notes his citation, “set a splendid example of courage and self-sacrifice.”[7]

Sergeant Turnbull “having with his party captured a post apparently of great importance,” held it despite heavy and consistent counterattacks and the loss of his party and those sent to reinforce him.  “Almost single-handed, he maintained his position, and displayed the highest degree of valour.”  He was later killed in action during a subsequent counterattack.[8]

Private McFadzean lost his life when a box of grenades fell into a crowded trench, which loosened the safety pins on two of the bombs.  McFadzean, “with heroic courage threw himself on the top of the bombs….blowing him to pieces but only one other man was injured….without a moment’s hesitation he gave his life for his comrades.”[9]

Historians have, and will continue to debate the purpose or even the sensibility of the Somme, and the way in which it was fought.  What can’t be denied is that 19,240 lost their lives on the first day of battle a century ago.  Many, a great many perhaps, were killed without having the opportunity to be of any practical influence in battle.  These six, though, by their example of valour and sacrifice might give some comfort that those who died, died well.

I am also very pleased to announce the pending North American release of “And The World Went Dark: An Illustrated Interpretation of the Great War” by Stephen Patricia, Casemate Books.  Already available for sale in the UK, it is currently on pre-order through Amazon and Chapters.  It was an esteemed honour to be invited to contribute some small samples of my writing to Mr. Patricia’s fine piece of illustrated history.  

The book, geared towards a wide audience, and particularly those not readily familiar with the First World War is artfully illustrated. Mr. Patricia’s talent lends a detailed visual aspect to a thorough understanding of this monumental event in human history.

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[1] Philpott, William, “Bloody Victory: The Sacrifice on the Somme” Abacus, 2009 pg. 175

[2] http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/worldwars/wwone/nonflash_map.shtml

[3] https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/the-big-questions/201206/how-we-cope-death

[4] Supplement to the London Gazette Number 29740 pg. 8869, 08 September 1916

[5] Supplement to the London Gazette Number 29695 pg. 7743, 04 August 1916

[6] Supplement to the London Gazette Number 29765 pp 9417-8, 26 September 1916

[7] Supplement to the London Gazette Number 29740 pg. 8869, 08 September 1916

[8] Supplement to the London Gazette Number 29836 pg. 11526, 25 November 1916

[9] Supplement to the London Gazette Number 29740 pg. 8871, 9 September 1916

To the Green Fields Beyond

The Purpose of the Battle of the Somme Part II: Execution

At 0720 hrs, 1^st July, 1916, an underground gallery sited beneath the German line and packed with 20 tons of ammonal[1] was detonated.  Ten minutes before zero-hour, Hawthorn Mine, as it was known, devastated the land on which it was buried; creating a shockwave felt for miles, the debris flung upward returning as heavy clods of earthen rain.  For all the noise and bother, detonating the mine did more to alert the Germans of the coming attack than being an aid to it.  Overall, artillery preparation had been poor.  Only at the southern end of the planned line of advance, where the British and French met had there been any significant reduction of German defenses.  French artillery in the area operated differently from the British and had a greater availability to (and understanding the employment of) high explosive shells.

Regardless of what lay ahead- shattered trenches or intact works- the men were going.  They were as ready as they could be, well, as they were ever going to be.  For a great many, this preparation was grossly deficient as well.  What followed has become legendary, a slaughter of 60,000 men for no result.  Military historian Major Gordon Corrigan puts it succinctly: “The Somme is often cited as an example of naïve bravery pitted against hopeless odds, coupled with stubborn pursuit of goals that were, quickly obvious as being incapable of achievement.”[2] However, Corrigan was expressing the common sentiment so that he could illustrate how fact refutes perception.

There can be no denying the terrible loss experienced by the British on 1^st July.  One third of the day’s casualties were fatal, and many of the wounded would never return to active duty.  The Germans were still in possession of their defensive line, for the most part, so any Allied gains can be easily overlooked.  In actuality, what gains had been made, though diminished in afterthought by objective failures gaining precedence, were proof that adequate training, preparation and resources could be sufficient against a fortified trench system. 

North to south, from Beaumont-Hamel to La Boiselle very little, if anything was

gained on July 1^st.  Between La Boiselle and Fricourt a tiny crescent of ground had been won.  From, but not including Fricourt to the boundary with the French just north of the River Somme better progress had been made, in some places (particularly around Montauban) up to two and a half kilometers.  Only in this area, a third of the entire length of the frontage of attack were the first day’s objectives met. None of the villages within the first day’s objectives had been taken.  This was especially worrying at Fricourt which jutted out in between the small limit of advance on the left and the lightly deeper and wider gains on the right, creating a miniature salient containing the built-up area of Fricourt at its peak and a dense wood immediately west of the village.

For the 29^th Division, attacking at the northern end of the line, around Beaumont Hamel, “The casualties were severe.  They numbered 5,000.  The loss of officers…was disproportionately heavy.”[3] Some battalions in the 29^th lost upwards of eighty percent of their effective strength; the loss of leadership a critical blow to maintaining fighting capability.

Sir John Keegan, the much admired historian, assigns much of the blame to the failures of the first day to deficiencies in artillery preparation.  By and large, he is not incorrect.  What gains were made had been mostly in the area where the French artillery had been active in support of the line where they and the British abutted.  Keegan gives something away in his inaccurate description of shrapnel shells.  He opines that the ground into which these shells were fired absorbed the impact and thus negated effectiveness reveals a military ignorance.  Shrapnel is

designed to air-burst, scattering its steel shot in a wide pattern.  If shrapnel was meant to impact detonate, it would have severely diminished its intended use- as an anti-personnel weapon.  The reason why shrapnel failed to cut German wire, as was the intent, is that the wire, being tensile, could absorb blasts of shrapnel and retain its strength. 

I raise this point not to castigate Sir John, put to illustrate that he doesn’t completely comprehend the subject matter he is describing and as such any conclusions he may draw will have at least a shadow of ignorance attached to it.  Reading Keegan for historical poignancy requires, at times, to cut through the treacle of his sentimentality and bias towards the British and a blind eye to his technical ignorance.  He is correct that the New Army formations had not been adequately trained- but doesn’t seem to understand what regular standards, particularly battlecraft were in 1916.  The Regular Army of the pre-war years was proficient in the type of “fire and movement” Keegan notes as being newly developed and of French origin. In personal conversation, I have more than once heard these so-called “new-tactics” (which are illustrated in the 1909 Field Service Manual) as having provenance with other nationalities, particularly Canadians and Australians, so Keegan is not alone in this oversight.  These things do call into question conclusions made upon misunderstood fact. 

It certainly can’t be said that thirty percent of objectives taken would be considered adequate against losses and failures.  Some minds will then point to the apparent futility of continuing operations at the Somme. The core of this argument is whether the battle was meant to be the war winning breakthrough, an attritional battle or first one and then the other when that failed to materialise.  “This setback”, of the first day, according to Sir Basil Liddell Hart, “negatived the original idea of a ‘breakthrough’ to Bapaume and Cambrai, and Haig for a time fell back on the attrition method- of limited advances aimed to wear down the German strength.”[4]

Haig’s overall plan for his army’s part in the 1916 offensives had to consider the factors of what was occurring elsewhere, particularly where the Germans were operating offensively.  His stated objectives, reproduced in the collection of his despatches, for the combined Anglo-French offensives of 1916 were:

I.              To relieve the pressure on Verdun

II.            To assist our Allies in the other theatres of war by stopping any further transfer of German troops from the Western Front

III.          To wear down the strength of the forces opposed to us[5]

That breakthrough isn’t mentioned leaves opinion open to believe Haig wanted an attritional battle.  For many, believing that the Somme was supposed to create the sought after breakthrough, the subsequent months of repeated attack must seem either foolish or stubborn.  However, as the battle’s main objective was to wear down Germany’s ability to resist-urgently in light of a similar strategy affected by the Germans against the French at Verdun.  The extension of thought is along the lines of Niall Ferguson’s notion of “when the breakthrough failed to materialise, all resorted to the arguments of attrition.”[6]

It is a fair shock to see Haig’s first reference to 1^st July contain the observation “the success” of the opening day “came as a surprise to the enemy and caused confusion and disorganisation in his ranks.”[7] seems a trifle generous of an assessment, or even willingly obtuse.   Haig’s despatches, if taken at face value seem at least a little separate from reality to the point of near delusion at times.  It would be, however, prejudicial to make assessments of his character based upon these writings.  The field Marshal submitted these despatches as progress reports to his employer, the government.  Not being made redundant involved putting all events in the best light possible.  That the despatches were concurrently published in newspapers also influenced Haig to write with a positive spin, to keep public opinion of the war likewise positive.  It would be a pity to think that Haig’s reputation for being out of touch, emotionally cool and heartlessly calculating may have basis in his own words which were not meant to be anything approaching expository.  Brigadier Sir Richard Holmes makes his assessment clear that Haig’s envisioned purpose for the Somme battle is at best unclear.  “The evidence suggests that he hoped to break through the German lines.”[8] The disagreement on the nature of the attack between Rawlinson of 4^th Army and his C-in-C Haig wasn’t as polar as attrition v. breakthrough but along the lines of what was achievable in regards the limit of the first day’s planned advance.

Haig wanted the result of any offensive he undertook to be an exploitable

breakthrough of the German lines, as this would be war winning.  This was no less true at the Somme, at least in the opening phases.  What is overlooked is that this breakthrough wasn’t the goal of the first day’s fighting.  Projected plans for the exploitation- to which infantry and cavalry would be tasked- used the German second line, which was an objective subsequent to the first day’s advance as the start point.

In any event, wearing the enemy down would be by its nature, crucial to attempting to push through the deadlock and bring the war back to mobile operations.  Given that most of the first day’s objectives were not met and thus creating an uneven line in danger of being over-extended, reliance of piecemeal attacks up and down the frontage to shore up the lines would be necessary before a general advance could be resumed.  In this period, all efforts would be made to wear the enemy down, either physically or morally, so, yes, attrition, but only with a conclusive mind towards transitioning from a wearing out process to the breakthrough which might win the war.

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[1] Firstworldwar.com

[2]  Corrigan, Gordon “Mud, Blood and Poppycock” Cassel Military Paperbacks, 2004 pg. 249

[3] Gillian, Stair “The Story of the 29^th Division: A Record of Gallant Deeds” Thomas Nelson and Sons, Ltd. 1925 pg. 82

[4] Liddell Hart, Basil “History of the First World War” Pan Books, 1972, pg 209

[5] Boraston, JH (ed.) “Sir Douglas Haig’s Despatches (December 1915-April 1919) JM Dent & Sons 1919 pg. 20

[6] Ferguson, Niall “The Pity of War: Explaining World War I” Basic Books, 1999 pg. 293

[7] Boraston, JH (ed.) ibid. pg. 23

[8] Holmes, Richard “Britain at War” Hylas Publishing, 2004 pg. 268