George Gillies died on active service, aged 30, on 15 November 1916.
He was born in Selby in 1887 and attended Bootham School from 1903 to 1905. George was a Reeve at Bootham (equivalent to a prefect).His hobby at school was Natural History.He was a very keen member of the Natural History Society at Bootham and went on to be its President.There are many mentions of his natural history work in “Bootham” school magazine, including wins in the school Christmas Exhibitions.He won the Inter-School Diary Competition for Natural History in 1904 and was awarded the Old Scholars Natural History Exhibition prize of £10. He decided to use part of this working as a student at a marine biological station on the Clyde.
An entry in “Bootham” magazine of July 1916 reports that G. Gillies has joined General Smuts’s force in East Africa. Later, in March 1917, “Bootham” magazine writes:
“G. GILLIES was serving in German East Africa, and died of dysentery on November 15th. On November 1st he wrote a letter to his grandmother at home. The following sentences reveal the same observant Gillies that we knew at School :—
” However, you will have some idea of the kind of land we are in when I say that hippo, crocodiles, and lions have all been seen or shot not far away. Elephants do come here, too, as I have seen their spoor in a swamp near here; but now, of course, I expect the coming of the troops and noise of the guns have frightened them away. The natives here wear kilts made of grass, and the better class dress more like Arabs— usually in white with a red fez as headgear. Each village seems to have one or more huts built rather better than the usual mud-and-grass affair, and these, I suppose, are the headmen’s dwellings. Some of the doorposts and lintels are of wood and are carved roughly, the same kind of carving being found on wooden utensils. I do not know whether this is due to Arab influence, but at one time, I believe, this was a great slave-trading country, and doubtless they owe much of their religion and habits to them …..Letters come along at intervals, and newspapers; we get tobacco as a ration and matches, and few could think us far removed from civilisation, although I’ve not seen a white woman for over five months, and that one a hospital nurse…… I am in hospital in a large grass hut (Bandar) just recovering from dysentery, and the Bobajee (Indian cook) has just brought in lunch. This, for light diets, consists of a chapattie (flour scone) and soup, with rice as dessert. The Indian Medical Service look well after us; in fact, we have a Battery doctor of our own as well, and I know from my own experience that a lot of the thing’s in the African papers about blunders re quinine, etc., were all rubbish as far as we were concerned. We have always had plenty, and I am thankful to say I have never required much.” “
The Royal British Legion “Every Man Remembered” website, http://www.everymanremembered.org/ , tells us that Gunner G Gillies of the South African Field Artillery is buried in the Morogoro Cemetery in Tanzania.
Denys Armstrong died on active service, aged 20, on 3rd October 1916.
He was born in Newcastle-on-Tyne in 1895 and attended Bootham School from 1909 to 1912. He played 2nd XI cricket and as goal on the 1st XI football team. He was awarded the bronze Life-saving medal. After Bootham, he studied at Armstrong College. At the outbreak of war he was serving an apprenticeship with Messrs. Swan, Hunter and Co. as a naval architect.
In June 1915, Denys joined the 5th Battalion Northumberland Fusiliers and fought in France. He was awarded the Victory Medal and the British War Medal.
Denys died on the third day of the Battle of Le Transloy on the advance to Le Sars as part of the final British offensive of the Battle of the Somme.
“Bootham” magazine on October 2016 records:
“DENYS ARMSTRONG, second lieutenant, fell in action on October 3rd. The day before he had been hit in the hand, but refused to go back, and led his men successfully across No Man’s Land. On the 3rd he was wounded by a shell, and a man was dressing his wound when a second shell came and killed both of them. Officers and men had grown very fond of “Snowball.” ” We could trust him absolutely, and he was so frank and warm-hearted that one could not but love him. He was just as greatly liked and admired by the cadets, and he wielded a remarkable influence for good amongst them.” ”
Denys is buried at the Warlencourt British Cemetery in France.
Each Whitsuntide saw the annual meeting in York of the Old York Scholars’ Association, and these meetings are reported in the school magazine “Bootham”.
In 1915 however, the meeting could not be held in York. Instead the Old Scholars met in London. In “Bootham”, Robert O. Mennell (B. 1897-1900) wrote:
“Whitsuntide 1915. KEW, Richmond-on-Thames, Westminster Bridge, and Croydon are strange place names to associate with the Old York Scholars’ Whitsuntide Gathering. Yet so it was; and the memory of the coloured loveliness of Kew and the silent beauty of the Thames in twilight will long be treasured by those who were there. But the London gathering will be remembered not so much for these or any other outward impressions as for the spirit that pervaded the meeting at Richmond—the sense of appalling need and the imperative call to render peace service in the midst of war.
T. Edmund Harvey and Philip J. Baker had come straight from the battle zones of France and Flanders, one from the devastated villages of the Marne, the other from the shattered city of Ypres, and their outline sketches of the relief work going forward under their direction seemed to bring the tragedy home as nothing less personal could have done. Other aspects of war’s cruel battering of humanity were portrayed by Ivy Weston in her picture of Folkestone Harbour invaded daily by crowds of ravenous refugees, and by Florence Barrow in her descriptions of the plight of “enemy-aliens” in this country.
In all the work of succour described—work undertaken in the spirit of a common humanity and with the single aim of healing and of reconciliation— the challenge of fine example lent point to the call made to us to render “special service in this time of supreme needs.”
Another form of service, less looked for perhaps from the Old Scholars of a Friends’ School, but undertaken in response to the stern call of duty and with entire disregard of personal interest or personal risk, was brought vividly before us by the khaki uniforms of some of our members, by a letter read from an Old Scholar in the trenches, and with peculiar force by the Head Master’s mention of those whose offer of the supreme sacrifice had already been accepted.
For every reason this annual meeting of the Associations must remain one of historic significance. The run down the river to Westminster Bridge, in the fading light, made a fitting close to the day.”
Robert O. Mennell in Senior Class at Bootham, 1900.
In 1916, the Whitsuntide meeting returned to York. In “Bootham”, Robert O. Mennell wrote again:
“Whitsuntide, 1916. To be back at York again for Old Scholars was to realise how much we all had lost by meeting- away from the Schools last year. But familiar surroundings were not sufficient to dispel a feeling of unfamiliarity, if not unreality, in all the proceedings. It must have seemed to many that we had come back to York only to find that the heart of things was not there, but in the ends of the earth—anywhere but at York. The explanation was simple. Where your comrades are, there will your heart be also. Our men were out in all parts of the world “on service,” and our thoughts inevitably were much more with them than in the business before us. Throughout the week-end each occasion and each fresh face encountered seemed to send our minds bounding off in search of an absentee, and wondering what particular duty was holding him fast, and what his particular “somewhere” was meaning for him.
In no previous year probably have Old Yorkists been so widely separated geographically or in thought; and yet never, perhaps, has the sense of our school motto, “Membra sumus corporis magni,” been so consciously or so fully realised. We know now that neither distances nor differences can injure our abiding sense of unity in the Bootham fellowship and in our common Bootham heritage—the tradition of cleanness of life and conduct, of honesty and of unostentatious obedience to duty.
It has been given to our generation by a tragic fate to know what war really is. Though borne down by a sense of its immeasurable tragedy, we may allow ourselves some gratification in the thought that the great tradition has been upheld. The call of duty has made a different demand of every individual of us and taken us into widely different spheres of service. When it is all over we shall come back welded by our ordeals and experiences into a closer fellowship than ever, with a still greater duty before us, to take our part in helping to mould the future, inspired, as our Headmaster put it, by a staunch faith in spiritual forces, in the power of loving kindness and courageous endurance. Work performed in that spirit in the interest of civilisation will not fail to bear fruit.”
At the 1916 meeting, Helen Baynes, President of the Mount Old Scholars’ Association, spoke about how valuable and helpful the Schools’ mottoes were, especially in the current times:
“” I have been thinking,” the speaker continued, ” how extremely valuable and helpful just now the School’s mottoes are—’ Membra sumus corporis magni ‘ and ‘ Ad omnia paratus.’ They seem to have been made specially for this year, for these times in which we are living-. We are all members of a great body, whether we regard ourselves as members of schools or members of a religious society, of the nation or of the Empire, and we may even go so far as to think of ourselves as members of a common humanity. As such we have, of course, great privileges, but as such also we have great responsibilities. I think it must be a matter of great happiness to all of us who are older members of this Association to see how finely prepared for everything many of our younger Old Scholars have been: those who are now working maybe with the Friends’ Ambulance Unit, possibly with the refugees in Corsica, Holland, France, or in England, alleviating the distress of aliens and others, or upholding the freedom that has been our priceless possession for so long, by their sufferings for conscience’ sake. It seems that into whatever service our members have entered they have, in most cases, been prepared for almost everything.
” We all hope and believe—do we not?—that a new and beautiful future is going to be born from this terrible turmoil —that a new heaven and a new earth will be built on the ruins of the old. But this will only come about if each one is prepared for whatever may come, if we are making ourselves prepared for this future that we hope is to be so much happier for humanity. Those who are now at school have a glorious future before them, I believe; and now is the very opportunity for choosing what they will do and for preparing themselves thoroughly for that future. There are opportunities of training now that have never been open in the past; there are opportunities for work that have never been open before.””
Haymaking, 1916
James Edmund Clark recalled the meeting at Richmond last year, when the desire to render service during this war time had materialised in the suggestion to raise a fund in the hope that it would reach £2,000 or £2,500 in aid of the various causes in which Friends were specially engaged.
“In the appeal which was sent out it was suggested that Old Scholars who wished to do so should indicate to what special activity they would like their money applied. The five objects were: The training of women and men; equipment and maintenance; the War Victims’ Relief Committee work; the Friends’ Ambulance Unit; and the Emergency Committee for the assistance of distressed Germans, Austrians, and Hungarians in this country.
It was pleasing to be able to report that the original purpose had been more than accomplished, a little over £2,800 having been promised or subscribed. Grants amounting to £1,755 had been made as under:
Training … … … … …£225
Equipment … … … … … £100
F.W.V.R … … … … …£650
F.A.U … … … … …£550
Emergency Committee … £230
Bootham stood behind the Mount in the matter of the number of contributors, with only 160 against 230. Contributions to correct this state of affairs, and to bring the total to £3,000, would still be cordially welcomed.
There had been one or two donations of particular interest: £7 as the result of the work that some of the boys at Bootham had done in the harvest fields last summer (with a prospect of a further contribution from harvesting and fruit picking in the coming season)*.”
(* August 8. Cheque for over £25 has already come for work done during last term.)”
Kenneth Mallorie Priestman (B. 1904-08) of Ilkley, Second-Lieutenant in the Royal Engineers, was killed in action on the Somme, near Ancre, in France on 31st August 1916 whilst on reconnaissance work. He was 25 years old.He had been home on short leave less than a fortnight before his death.
Before receiving his commission in the Royal Engineers, in the summer of 1915, he served for some months as a voluntary motor driver in the Friends’ Ambulance Unit at the front in Flanders.
The following are extracts from letters, received from fellow officers:
“August 31st, 1916.I have to tell you very sad news.This morning your son was killed instantaneously in action whilst on reconnaissance work with his Major.A large fragment of shell must have hit and broken his spine, and he died immediately.Major ____ was very badly hit at the time, also another Officer of the Pioneers.We are only three left to carry on . . . .Your son was a particular friend of mine, and has always shewed a good grasp of the situation in very awkward corners . . . .We have lost a well beloved comrade and one of the best Officers we ever had.”
“September 2nd, 1916.Your son was killed in the advanced front line, and we had great difficulty in bringing his body in.He had to be carried over a shell swept zone, over the top, in full view of the enemy.He was buried in the cemetery just near where we are now.All the Officers of our Company attended – now reduced to three.Our parson conducted the service and men from his section acted as bearers.I am having a cross made and a frame to mark out his grave.”
The June 1917 issue of “Bootham” magazine quotes a letter from another Bootham Old Scholar. Captain J. C. Procter writes:—
“Lieutenant Priestman’s grave is well kept and has a large white cross of wood painted with his name in black letters. It is the largest cross of its sort in the cemetery, which is perhaps why I saw it. . . . The cemetery is in a little valley, ” Blighty Valley,” and will be very pretty one day. . . . It has steep wooded sides and at present is full of batteries and a little tramway runs up past the graveyard.”
Frank Nichols (B. 1908-10), Private in the 12th Battalion of the York and Lancaster Regiment, fell in action in France on 1st July 1916.
He was born in Sheffield in 1893. The 12th Batallion was a Pals Battalion from Sheffield which suffered particularly heavily during the Battle of the Somme.
He is remembered at the Thiepval Memorial to the Missing.
An account of Frank Nichols death is given in Bootham Magazine, Vol. 8 No. 2 Oct 1916:
“NICHOLS and NORTON. No one can think of these two apart: they came to School together, they moved up the School together, they enlisted together, they were in Egypt together, and on the French front together. Now comes the news that F. NICHOLS is killed and J. W. NORTON wounded. On Saturday, July 8th (sic), they found the front trench, said to be empty, full of the Prussian Guard. The two looked at each other, shook hands, said good-bye, and fixed their machinegun. They shot several Germans, and expected to be riddled with bullets; but a German shell burst a few yards ahead of them, sent their gun flying, and smothered them with debris. NORTON rolled himself into the hole made by the shell, but NICHOLS was a second too late. A bullet pierced his steel helmet and passed through his head, killing him instantaneously. The two friends lay side by side from 8 in the morning till 10 at night, the Germans not suspecting that any living person was within thirty yards. NORTON is in the Red Cross Hospital at Horton (Gloucester), wounded below the knee, and heartbroken at the loss of his chum.”
Thomas Smith Impey was born in 1880 and was a student at Bootham School from 1893 to 1896. During the First World War he served in the Royal Flying Corps, becoming a Captain and later a Major.
Thomas Smith Impey in Bootham School Gym Team, 1894
In the March 1916 edition of “Bootham” magazine he writes about his experiences flying over France:
“T. S. IMPEY joined the R.F.C. in February 1915, ” three months late, owing to an accident that kept me from doing anything at all for many weeks. I am now almost the oldest pilot flying, many of the senior officers being years younger than me. . . . I took my pilot certificates in about six weeks, and passed the final examination qualifying me as a flying officer in July. . . . After some delay with my engine at Folkestone, I crossed the Channel at about 8,000 ft. . . . From 8,000 ft. the N.W. corner of France looks like a map, Calais and Boulogne seeming only a hand’s-breadth apart, the hills and valleys being quite indistinguishable. . . . I was flying at 8,000 ft. looking for gun flashes over the line, when three or four came up— bang ! bang ! pong ! ping !—all around me, and little round puffs of smoke flashed away behind me; and I confess I turned round and flew out of range in zig-zags as quickly as I could, which was at about 80 miles an hour. Of course, I had to go back again when I had a few minutes to think it over, and now, though I don’t like ‘ Archie,’ I have learned to fly through him like everyone else, and do my work regardless. . . . It is awfully cold sometimes at 10,000 ft., which is a height we often fly at; and without proper protection in the winter frostbite is more than likely.””
T. S. Impey survived the war and was granted a permanent commission in the R.A.F. He retired in 1922.
Charles Albert Wood attended Bootham School from 1901 to 1903. He received the Military Cross in France, listed in Fourth Supplement to the London Gazette, 14th January 1916:
“Captain Charles Albert Wood, M.B., Indian Medical Service”
A report in the March 1916 issue of “Bootham” magazine tells us the story:
“C. A. WOOD (Captain, I.M.S.) has been at the Front since 1914. He was attached to some of the Gurkhas. When in charge of a temporary hospital the house was shelled and the chimney came down. None of his patients was touched, but he received a severe blow and was reported wounded, but remained on duty. After that he was in charge of the Convalescent Hospital for Indian troops in France. He was then sent to Alexandria, and may be in Mesopotamia now. He was awarded the Military Cross in January, 1916.”
There is further description of Captain Wood’s action in “The Indian Corps in France” by Lt-Col J.W.B. Merewether and Sir Frank Smith:
“All through the battle, the work of the medical officers and their subordinates had been beyond praise. Captain C. A. Wood, I.M.S., 1/4th Gurkhas, gained the Military Cross by his bravery and unceasing energy in collecting the wounded, even after he had himself been hit, and in arranging for their safety after his first-aid post had become a target for the enemy’s artillery. Throughout the campaign this officer had shown himself to be utterly regardless of danger in the performance of his duty.”
In November 1915, several Old Boys were working in the Italian Unit of the Red Cross Ambulance Unit, along with Mr. G. M. Trevelyan, the historian of Garibaldi. An urgent appeal for help reached the headquarters of the unit when a small building used as a cholera hospital in the village of San Florian was bombarded by Austrian guns. Mr. Trevelyan and some men removed the inmates to a place of safety.
The story is reported in the March 1916 issue of “Bootham” magazine, and continues as follows:
“Two days later a similar thing happened. Mr. Trevelyan and six ambulance cars came to the rescue. The rear half of the building was already a mass of ruins, among which lay a dozen dead; the Italian officer in charge of the hospital was killed whilst standing side by side with one of the unit. All surviving patients were successfully carried off in the British cars. Augustine N. Grace (1890-91) and J. H. Gray (1897-1902) were in the rescue party.
In recognition of the gallantry displayed, King Victor Emanuel has decorated Mr. Trevelyan with the silver medal for military valour, “partly for this action, partly as representing his colleagues and collaborators, and in his capacity as Commandant of the First British Ambulance Unit for Italy .” “
In the First World War, many thousands of Belgian refugees came to Britain and relief committees were established to help them. Quakers in York played an important role; several families were housed at the garden village of New Earswick, founded by the York philanthropist Joseph Rowntree, and money was raised both to support them and towards Belgian Relief Funds. It has already been mentioned in earlier blog posts that Bootham school supported a Belgian refugee family See previous posts from September 1914 and January 1915.
By Spring 1916, Bootham School was involved in further fundraising for Belgian relief. From the Annual Report:
“For many weeks the School worked hard in preparation for the Belgian Bazaar. Things were made in the workshop, knitting became popular, voluntary gymnastic classes were held, dramatic scenes were rehearsed, and friends all over the country were importuned to contribute goods and money. ”
The report for Spring Term Jan and Feb 1916, in Bootham magazine tells us:
“THE exceedingly mild weather of January and the prospects of some novel excitement in the shape of a Zeppelin raid have served to reconcile us to some extent to the deficiencies of the average Spring Term, and the work that we are doing in preparation for the great Belgian show has not allowed much time to hang idly on our hands. The knitting operations, in fact, and the generally busy atmosphere of the workshop and other such places, are a constant reminder to us of the determined way in which everybody is setting to work to make this event an unprecedented success.”
The event was a huge success. Bootham magazine reported afterwards:
“On the 25th (March) our great event took place, when the major part of the leisure-hour work of the term found its culmination in the long-awaited Belgian Bazaar. We anticipated an unprecedented success, but even more, if such is possible, was the case. Practically speaking, there was nothing left on the stalls; everyone was at his best, and not a hitch occurred throughout. From the stall-keepers dispensing of their wares to the extra singing-class masquerading as a “wall” all played their parts nobly, and the results exceeded our most sanguine hopes. A sum of well over sixty pounds was realised and has been divided, at the discretion of the Finance Committee, amongst the several Belgian Relief Funds in which we are interested.”
“The interest in natural history seems at present less in amount than in previous years, though those who are working at the various subjects are keen, and the work reaches a pretty high standard. Ambulance work, house matches, and the bath are mentioned by various members of the committee as matters which occupy some of the leisure at one time given to natural history. There has also been considerable difficulty in arranging excursions owing to increased train fares. Walks to Askham, Hobmoor, and Wart-hill have to a certain extent replaced longer journeys. It is worth pointing out in this connection, however, that quite good natural history work can be done without going far.”
Air Raid Preparations
“The frequent and successful air raids that have been carried out in this country so recently have made the possibility of their arrival over York a very real one, and we are accordingly making preparations to receive them. Weekly air raid practices have been instituted, which comprise a general rush downstairs with whatever clothing can be laid hands on, but the prospect of any prolonged stay in the box-room during the night is not a very pleasant or a comforting one.
On February 19th about twenty of those who had gained First Aid certificates underwent a very novel experience, when they offered themselves as subjects for the air raid practice held by the St. John Ambulance Association in York. About ten o’clock at night they were asked to place themselves in various parts of the city, bearing labels telling them of their injuries, and there they waited until the ambulance found them, bandaged them, and then motored them back to the hospital for proper medical treatment. Luckily for the success of the test the moon was at its best and the night clear, and no great difficulties had to be met with, while the experience was thoroughly enjoyed by all of us who underwent it.”
