Letters from the front line paint picture of Great War (From Craven Herald)

Letters from the front line paint picture of Great War

1:50pm Saturday 12th November 2011 in Craven History

With it being Remembrance Sunday this weekend, it is fitting this week’s history feature should look at the experiences of Ingleton soldier Ernest Walling, who served in the First World War and was awarded the French Croix de Guerre just before he was killed in action in 1918. He is one of 48 men from the two world wars named on a plaque near Ingleton War Memorial. His army career is detailed in a book, called The Ingleton War Memorial, written by Andrew Brooks and published in 2004. Here, with the author’s help, we retell his story.

When the Great War started in August 1914, George Walling was headmaster of the village school and among many of his other village duties he was the Ingleton correspondent for the Craven Herald.

His family, with three sons and two daughters, lived at Ferncliffe, a large detached house on the edge of the village. All three sons fought in the war, and after the war one of the daughters married and her descendents, the Hartleys of Wray village near Lancaster,0 hold the letters sent home from the front by eldest son Ernest, whose two brothers survived the war.

Major Ernest Walling of the 7th Battalion, Prince of Wales' Own (West Yorkshire Regiment) Leeds' Rifles was killed in action on April 25 1918, at the age of 32.

He held the Croix de Guerre (France) and the Military Cross.

He died fighting towards the end of what is called the Kaiser's Battle, Germany's final attempt to defeat the Allies in the spring of 1918.

When the attack commenced on March 21, they made considerable gains, but by the beginning of April, the Allied resistance stiffened. The Germans attacked further north in the area of the River Lys and Ernest was killed on April 25. The battle was officially over by April 28 and from this point onwards the Germans were in retreat.

Ernest was the senior science master at Leeds Grammar School when war broke out and as a serving Territorial in the Leeds Rifles, he immediately joined his regiment.

After a period of training, the regiment left for France but Ernest was left behind, presumably to recover from an injury he had received during this time.

In a letter home, written on 2/7th Battalion notepaper, he comments that the doctor at the hospital said it “was much better but be careful not to get a knock on it”. He made the crossing to France in July 1915 but did not join his regiment immediately.

Ernest spent some time at No 16 Base Camp in Le Havre before setting off on August 11 on a long train journey to the Somme area. There he joined No 3 Entrenching Battalion just outside Albert before finally meeting up with his pals on August 19 and reportedly enjoying his first experience in the front line.

Whilst writing home from his dugout, he mentions a food parcel that must have arrived from home. He says the Goosenargh cakes sent by his mother were just a pile of dust in the tin! He asks if they will send more cakes, tomatoes and bananas. “Everything goes into a common store”.

On September 12, 1915, as he was taking a party of 50 men to do some trench work near the front line, a bullet passed between him and his sergeant as they stood together in the motor bus. After wandering around the area for two hours trying to find out where they were supposed to be working, he ended up in a brigade mess where he enjoyed a glass of port.

Writing home on December 12 he said he would be in the trenches over Christmas.

Space does not permit an account of all his experiences but this is an example of a letter sent home: “I am at present in trenches behind the firing line, alone. The other officers are in front. I was in front last time. I have an excellent dugout here, quite roomy and not being tall I can sit on a chair in it without touching the ceiling ... It is boarded but has a doorway about six feet long and the height of the roof. Last night was quite chilly... Coming here we had quite an exciting minute. Of course we came in in the dark, it was very wet and very muddy and slippery as usual and the men were loaded up with rations and water. I carried a two-gallon petrol tin of water myself so I know what it was like. Well, we had just turned through a gate past a farm when a machine gun in the distance sputtered bullets at us. Of course it did not know we were there but you can train a machine gun on a spot which you know is frequently used by troops and let off bursts when you like. I turned round to give the order 'down' when to my amazement I found every man flat in spite of his rations etc. No! I did not think they were all dead!

“Bullets hit the ground on both sides of us (about a yard or two off) but no one was hit.

“Today I have been watching other poor fellows getting plugged with those beastly things, trench mortars and watching the earth fly.”

On January 18, 1918, the Brigadier walked into the mess and said he would like Ernest to command the Trench Mortar Battery. Hesitantly he said, “Yes Sir” and was sent on a training course a couple of months later.

Ernest advised his parents his address was X Corps T.M. School and then went on to say the talk in the mess was about who was going to attack and where and how he could hear heavy bombardments in the distance.

His final letter arrived home dated April 24 1918. He told his parents he had been awarded the French Croix de Guerre. The medal had been pinned on his chest by a French General at 11 o'clock the previous night. Modest as ever, he said he had done nothing to deserve it. He closed the letter by saying he did not want a long palaver in the newspaper – “I know too well the journalistic tendencies of the Ingleton correspondent”, he wrote.

The day after he had written, the Germans attacked in strength in the Mont Kemmel area and his trench system was overrun. His orderly wrote to his parents and said that, at 10.30am during a severe bombardment, Ernest was hit on the right side of the forehead and died in less than ten minutes. All other officers were killed, wounded or missing.

In a letter of May 28 1918, Lt Col SH Tetley apologised to Ernest's parents that they had found out about Ernest's death from his servant but as no other officers were left, this was understandable.

His body was not recovered and he is commemorated on the Tyne Cot Memorial – part of the Tyne Cot Cemetery – a few miles from Ypres.