Amongst my email in March 2004 was a letter from
Chris Howell a complete stranger to me, Chris had been on my website looking
at the Gosling war dead for news of Pte. William Gosling 17963 who had died in
action in the first world war.
Attached was a story by Pte Sammy Taylor and
gives us an inkling of Billy's last months in the trenches of Flanders in 1917;
Pte Sammy Taylor
3rd Battalion,
The Coldstream Guards
4th January, 1917
In January we were pulled out of the trenches to near a place called Corbie, fer
a late Christmas. I always had me squeeze box wi' me in the trenches an' when we
come out I were carrying me stretcher, wig this instrument under me arm, an'
this nice young officer,
name of Lutyens - couldn't wish fer a nicer officer,
said, CECome on, Sam. Play a few tunes fer us. I'll carry yer stretcher'. An' he
did - chuckedIn up over his shoulder while I played all the way back along the
duckboards.
We did have to have the Buckboards out there or we wouldn't lave
bin
able
to
walk at all. The ground were covered with massive great shell holes, wil no more
than a foot an' a half between 'em. Same were suh deep as a room, an' if you
slipped off the Buckboard -you'd had it. You did get sucked down in them 'oles,
all filled wi' slimy, reddy mud an' bloody body bits an' stuff, an' you did stay
there till somebody pulled you out. The more you did struggle the more you did
sink down in. Horses did drown in 'em.
Normally, when we were pulled out from the front we did spend our
time jumpin' over trenches an' stickin' our bay'nets through sandbags. Trainin',
you know. They'd find some little bit of square where we'd do some drillin', to
keep us up to scratch, wi' all the local people watchin' us. An' we 'ad salutin'
practice, 'cause they reckoned we were getting slack oh, the daft things they
made us do when we come out of the trenches. We'd be out fer a couple of days
an' lave to polish our buttons, an' then, when we went back in, we had tuh lave
a bit of candle an' darken' 'em agen. That were daft, weren't it?
I used to get so lousy as a cuckoo out there. We had lice
everywhere. Me name tags, on a piece o' string round me neck, were covered in
the things. What we used to do when we come out were buy some candles an' cut it
up in small bits, then we'd take off our shirts an' that, an' light the candle,
an' run it up an' down the seams. They did go off like a machine gun then, all
the lice eggs poppin' i Full of it, they were. They gid us some stuff they
reckoned we should rub in, but that did make it a damn site worse, they did go
fer that fer to eat it! Anyone'll tell thee the same, what were in the
trenches, you couldn't avoid 'em. We did come back an' lave shower baths that
they did give us. Caw, that were a game, I can tell lee. Shower baths! We were
reckoned to be clean after, but we were still full of
lice even then. You just couldn' get 'em off!
Sometimes they did give us a change of clothin'. Some of it
weren't half big enough - get socks that did come only 'alf way up yer foot.
Ant t1weredn't new clothing, t1were all what'd bin cleaned
and purified, they reckoned. But t1were not very often we got that;
even. We 'ad to go back in in what we 'ad on. Might just get another shirt to
wear, but genlrally the clothes were caked with mud. Mud and blood.
A month later we were up at Sellencourt. Tgwere all quiet and we wondered what
the quietness was all about. Then all at once Jerry opened up a great
bombardment away to the left of us - shells the size of barrels - and worked the
barrage all down through, right where we were. I an' me mate were up on top wi'
the stretcher an' found a piece of galvanised an' got down flat wit that over
the top of us. Old Jerry blew those trenches to smithereens.
Well, when it had quieted down a bit we got up an
I
went into the trench an' a young chap come down wie' a gurt piece
blowed out of his jaw, but when we went to help him he said, CESam,
I
he said. CEThere's a chap hurt worse than me up there.' I went up to see him and
that were a young chap from Devon - a nice chap, name of Gosling. He'd
dug back under the bank and made a nice place to croop back in an' Jerry plonked
a shell right in the middle, over the top ofln and that poor chap had his head
blowed clean right off. I couldn' do nothin' for him but he must've had nerves
left in his body fer a bit cos he crawled out of his hole, practically out into
the trench, afore he passed out. Funny, weren't it? It's the honest truth, I saw
it happen. I'd seen so much by then that it didn't turn me up a bit. All I felt
were sorry, cos he were a nice young chap.
17963 Pte.
William Gosling
3rd Battalion, Coldstream Guards
Enlisted: Honiton, Devon, England.
Killed in Action
France and Flanders
22nd February 1917 aged 22 years.
Son of Samuel and Sarah Jane Gosling,
Of Farway, Honiton, Devon.
Remembered with honour SAILLY-SAILLISEL BRITISH CEMETERY
Chris Continues ....
An appendix to this: I had
always promised Sammy I would visit Billy's grave one day but writing my book
had devoured my time. I told the story of Sammy and Billy at my book launch in
August 2002 but my son was not there to hear it as he was cycling down through
France. The following morning my son rang to find how things had gone at the
launch. He then told me that he had cycled on ahead of his companion and had
stopped by chance at one of the roadside military cemeteries (there are 1200
over there). He said that while he was waiting he had gone to look at the
gravestones,
"But I can only find one Coldstreamer - a chap called William Gosling"!
I have since been to visit Billy myself.
Good luck with your project Peter.
Chris Howell.
I have
since contacted Chris and he has agreed to this tribute to Billy going on my web
page, I also found out more about Chris Howell and so can you by clicking on
www.ficklehill.com
Thank You Chris,
Thank You Billy for what you gave to us in 1917 'God Bless'
Click here for the Gosling Home
Page or the Joslin
Home Page
