David Smith was a fourteen-year-old apprentice painter in Edinburgh when the First World War began. He and some friends tried to enlist, but were quickly detected as underage. ‘To the public we were Bantams, to ourselves Goliaths,’ he wrote. Desperate to join the Seaforth Highlanders, he tried again and after being told to come back the next day and say he was nineteen and not eighteen, he succeeded in joining up. He was sent to France in 1915, where he was in the front line until he was taken prisoner in 1918. His hectic account of these years shows how raw the memories remained. (Note: All spelling and grammar oddities are as in his account.)
After being disappointed at not getting home I settled down to see the end of the war, or the war to see the end of me, the only other alternative being wounded or as the soldier called it ‘A Blighty’! We finished our month’s rest, and about February 1916, we relieved the French Troops in the trenches at a place called the Labarinth, which was fairly quiet, except for the only thing of any incident was our battalion, the 5th Seaforths, was relieved by our 6th Battalion one night, and in the morning the Germans blew up a mine, but by the sharpness of our Artillery which was the Edinburgh Lowland the Germans suffered heavier casualties from our 6th Batt, although the 6th was heavy, after a few months at the above place we were removed to Vimy Ridge, this is where we began to get heavy bombardments and also heavy casualties with shells and snipers. We were relieved about June 1916 after serving spells of 21 days at a time in the trenches, then about the end of June we were taken in Motors to the worst place I have ever been in my service in France, namely High Wood July 1916. My God! how I wished for home 18 years old and nearly a year in France – I thought it was a bloody shame having young boys in France at that age, of course there was more than me, but as I am writing my memories, I leave others to write there’s. 1914 I thought I was a man (High Wood 1916 – I thought I was a boy) and ought to be home – Delvil Wood shelled night and day like buggery, dead lying all over, this was the first time I had seen so many dead – Burning hot weather. Dead horses – oh what a smell no drinking water and by this time I was the Company Captains Runner Oh! how I was wishing I had been sent home with Rupture like Jock my pal, but I didn’t grudge him his luck as I know he would rather have been with me at Delvil Wood, did the people at home know the true facts about this hellish place, of course not. They were all mad in France to carry on like this, and I was one of them, well if I didn’t kill I would be killed so I had to bang away too, eight days Sunday included we were hemmed and hammered in the wood – my God! don’t they ever take a rest here, or is it three eight hour shifts, we were doing 24 hours, of course sleep was out of the question, at times we got restless – and fearless, wishing to God we got killed as we were fed up with it, at last we went over the top, and glad to go, to get out of the wood, as a wood makes a fine target for Artillery, after doing another three days in attacking, we had to be relieved as our Battalion was depleted with the amount of dead, and the second day on rest I was sent down to the base hospital with Malaga fever, of course it was a God-send in a sense, as it gave me a good bed, food and a rest, although the Battalion was on rest at the time …
We entered the trenches on Nov. 12th Midnight ready to go over the top on the 13th (unlucky 13th for Jock) at day break, – day did break and I thought so did the earth, mines, shells and every dam thing went up and over we went, Jock and I and a Sergent Cameron quite close to each other. I stuck in mud (this was a hellish place for mud), but after a minute or two was free, and just as I got free Jock, my pal of all pals, got covered with shrapnel, from a bomb. What could I do – nothing, there was stretcher-bearers for that job I was told, so I had to carry on, but not for long, I saw Sergent Cameron – a hero if ever there was one, but his body was found riddled with bullets, a VC never honoured was what was said about him, – now one of the ‘Forgotten heroes’ to some only, but not to me for one.
I will now take the privilage to write a few lines about my dearest Pal which may not interest some, but whose memory I cherish. After I had left Jock badly wounded, I got knocked out myself, by shell concussion, and partly buried and when I came to, I was in Hospital thanking God I was away from it for the time being, but as I have found out Jock my pal lay for 24 hours before being picked up he was in Hospital in France, so serious that his father had to go over to France to his bedside, and after going through a large number of operations, he was discharged with his leg useless, through which he died in the year 1920. So ended a great friendship one could not wish for better.
I returned to the Battalion about the middle of Jan, 1917, and after doing a spell in the trenches, we went back on rest to Abbeville, from where I went on leave home to Edinburgh. What a fine feeling, home again, since 1915 playing in mud and Soldiering just as I wanted but I had realized now what it was and had had enough, and hoping it would be over before my leave was over, but to be candid I did not think there was an end to it.
Back from leave oh! how I felt leaving mother, no one at home, and I had never seen my father since 1914 my brother I had met in France, and those dam Zepps were beginning to frighten her, often I thought if there’s a God cant he finish it, then again I would say if they cant obey God’s words then let them carry on. ‘Thou shalt not kill’. We were not obeying, so blame ourselves.
Back from leave seven days late. What the hell did I care I had a good time in London with a Canadian Soldier, it was a glorious war for that seven days, so when I arrived back up in front of the CO, but he said as you are going over the top at Arras, I will give you no sentence as you can take your chance; which meant I might get knocked out or I might not.
I was wishing to hell I had been fourteen days late but still if I had been up to time I would of had to take my chance, so it was all the same.… After getting a good issue of rum from my officer, who I was servant to, I fell fast asleep, not giving a dam what was in store for me the next morning, of course the rum was doing the thinking. Zero-hour – what a hell of noise, I am in my senses now, Smith I hear the officer calling for me, a proper toff, keep by my side, for I will have to take back a message when we get our objective, at last we go over, the usual sight dead, and dying moaning and groaning, oh! what a hell of a life will this bloody war finish, however we plod on, the Germans are fleeing back like hell and we reach our objective, with few casualties considering the ground we have taken, we go no further as we are not allowed, my God, what a chance we are missing to chase them, but we are still living so to hell with Jerry, let him run, we all releived at night and in a few days all shifted to the right to a place called Roun, where we get battered to hell, attacking and counter-attacking, we get chased back to a canal, where an order is given to jump in and cross to the other side Thank God it is not deep as most of us cant swim, but who the hell invented the kilt, I wish I was in a trouser regiment now …
We eventually got to the Somme canal where we joined the rest of the Brigade, as the Seaforths were fighting as a rear guard for the rest of the Brigade, I was wishing to hell I was on a horse or in the Motor Transport.
By this time I had picked up a Sandbag of rations as we were setting fire to all our dumps and canteens not to let them fall in German hands.
The 24th March after having a piece of bread and a drink of Ideal Milk (scrounged from a Transport which had been shelled and the Driver and horses killed) the Germans got up on us again, here he gave us very heavy casualties, as it was here we lost our last officer. We retired to a ridge and as we had no officers a South African officer gathered what men he could; all regiments were represented, his order was to hold on at all costs, I wondered if this bugger had a home to go back too, no doubt he was a hero, but were we not all heroes? every man in the Trenches deserved a VC but I myself would rather of been home than have all the bloody medals made, well we were told to hold on as we had no artillery, so as soon as the Germans showed face we let blaze inflicting severe causualties on them, but at the same time our numbers were getting smaller.
This was a hell of a day of heat, and we were beginning to get exhausted and day of all days it was a Sunday, how I wished for my Sunday School days.
We retired to shell holes of the 1914 days as we were now retiring over that ground, we lay in the shell holes in fours and five’s etc, there being five of us all told in the hole I was in, his aeroplanes came over swooping down on us, and rattling his machine gun at us, one of our five a Seaforth fell back dead, Oh! God is my turn coming, but alas; we were surrounded – my God – A Prisoner of War – out in France in 1915 and then being taken Prisoner in 1918, I could hardly realize it, but there were thousands captured, and when we saw the Germans there seemed to be tens of hundreds of thousands, Russia had packed up by this [time] and all the German Troops had been drafted to our front. Would I ever see home again, would my mother ever know, would they do me in, these were the thoughts that passed through my head, I wanted to be a soldier, I was one now, but the war was ended as far as I was concerned. The Germans who captured me took my wristlet watch and a few Photos I had, and also a half-a-loaf of bread, and a tin of jam I carried in my pack, to be just he was fairley decent, but one of the few I met (later on while in prison camp) he shared the bread and jam along with the other three captured along with me, and then he took us over to the chap who got killed he was a terrible sight, an explosive bullet got him in the stomach. This was war – what for I dont know.