Lieutenant Thomas Michael Kettle
9TH ROYAL DUBLIN FUSILIERS
THOMAS KETTLE WAS 36 YEARS old on the Somme. He was the son of a Dublin farmer and one of the founders of the Land League. Having finished at University College Dublin, Tom was elected as Nationalist MP for East Tyrone in 1906 by a narrow margin of less than twenty votes. He had retired from parliament four years later, however, when he was elected to the Chair of National Economics of Ireland at his alma mater. A member of the Irish Bar, now with a wife, Margaret, and a daughter, Betty, Tom now made his living mostly as a journalist and writer.
A member of the original Executive of the National Volunteers and a staunch supporter of Irish Independence, Thomas was in Belgium when war was declared, obtaining arms for the Nationalist cause. On 2nd August he saw people in the streets of Brussels tear newspapers from the vendors’ hands to read the latest on the great European conflict. He stayed in Belgium working as a war correspondent for the Daily News, this overtaking his original purpose for being on the Continent. Tom believed fiercely that people should know what was happening. ‘Our duty,’ he claimed, ‘is not to banish the memories of war as we have experienced it, but to burn them in beyond effacement, every line and trait, every dot and detail.’ He travelled the Western Front to be able to do it, including visiting GHQ in France.
Lieutenant Thomas Kettle. (Authors’ collection)
As a man who had given out anti-recruiting leaflets during the Second Boer War on the streets of Dublin, Tom had developed surprising opinions in the eyes of many and went so far as to join the army in order to go and fight the enemy himself. Neutrality, in his opinion, meant that evil won. ‘He considered that Ireland had a duty not only to herself, but to the world and an obligation to follow the road of honour and justice.’ He also believed that doing this would help lead to the implementation of Home Rule. He travelled the country tirelessly expounding this point of view. Opponents labelled him a recruiting sergeant and he received a multitude of abusive correspondence, usually anonymous. His answer? ‘Ireland was on the side of England because England was on the side of God.’ The crimes committed against Belgium must be accounted for. ‘I care for Liberty,’ he admitted, ‘more than I care for Ireland.’
Irish troops return from the capture of Ginchy. (Authors’ collection)
Tom left Dublin on the evening of 14th July 1916 for the front. ‘I am calm and happy,’ he told his brother soon afterwards, ‘but desperately anxious to live.’ He had seen modern, industrialised warfare, been bombarded by artillery and knew ‘what an outrage it is against simple men’. It was enough to convince him that working for peace when the war was finally over was a worthy way to spend the rest of his days. As September dawned, the front was taking its toll on Tom but he refused to go on sick leave and declined offers of a staff appointment in order to stay with his men.
Since the onset of September all the troops of the 16th (Irish) Division had been in action under other commands, attached to various other formations. Now, weak in numbers and tired, Tom and the other survivors were back under their proper authority. His brigadier made it clear that his men, including the 9th Royal Dublin Fusiliers, would need to be relieved as soon as the next assault had taken place on Ginchy, as they would not be fit for anything else. By the night of the 7th the men were digging assembly trenches ready for the resumption of the assault on the village on the 9th. Placed in charge of the remnants of B Company, Tom advanced into position alongside a fellow officer. The stench of the dead on the road on the way up was so bad that they smeared foot powder on their faces. The support trench was finished; the men steeled themselves for battle. Everything was set for the Irish to take their turn in attacking Ginchy.
The 9th September dawned. A priest sat with the Catholic officers and gave general absolution as zero hour approached. Then, in the early evening, the line advanced under the artillery barrage on the first objective, the platoons spread out 40 yards apart. Still Tom waited to go forward in support. Just after 5pm, the 9th Royal Dublin Fusiliers made their attack, advancing to help clear the western side of the village. German troops were surrendering, fleeing towards Flers and Lesboeufs. So excited were some of the Irishmen that they needed to be reined in so they could consolidate the ruins of the village instead of charging after them. Finally, Ginchy had fallen. Tom’s brigade would claim the honour of having captured the village, but he would not be with them.
‘I was just behind Tom when we went over the top,’ wrote a young subaltern. ‘He was in a front position and a bullet got over a steel waistcoat that he wore and entered his heart.’ Kettle had fallen right at the beginning of the advance. His companion pressed a crucifix into his hand, and within a minute he was gone. He commented, ‘this is the seventh anniversary of my wedding, I forget whether seventh or eighth.’
The Germans made several attempts to recapture the village on the 9th, all of which were unsuccessful. When the surviving Irishmen marched out of Ginchy, a piper walked in front of them, playing a lament for those who had not returned. Much was made of the political loss to Ireland of Tom Kettle’s death, but his own thoughts were simpler. If he was not to come home, Tom wanted his wife to know that ‘there was never in all the world a dearer woman or a more perfect wife and adorable mother’. He couldn’t help but think of their little girl. ‘My heart cries for you and Betty, whom I may never see again … If the last sacrifice is ordained think that in the end I wiped out all the old stains. Tell Betty her daddy was a soldier and died as one. My love, now at last clean, will find a way to you.’ Lieutenant Kettle did receive a burial on the field of battle, but his grave was subsequently lost. If recovered again, his remains were never identified and he is commemorated on the Thiepval Memorial, Pier & Face 16c.