along the western front with the king
His Majesty's Arrival at Boulogne—At G.H.Q.—General ——'s Appreciation—The King on the Battlefield of Fricourt—Within Range of the Enemy's Guns—His Majesty's Joke Outside a German Dug-out—His Memento from a Hero's Grave—His Visit to a Casualty Clearing Station—The King and the Puppy—Once in Disgrace—Now a Hospital Mascot.
That evening I reported at headquarters. "Well, Malins," said Colonel ——, "I have a special job for you. Will you be on the quay at Boulogne to-morrow morning by twelve o'clock? Captain —— is going down; he will make all arrangements for you there; he will also tell you who it is that's coming. Start at eight o'clock to-morrow morning. It is very important; so don't fail to be there."
Leaving the Colonel I met Captain —— outside. "Who's coming?" I asked.
"Don't know," he said. "Tell you to-morrow."
"Is it the King?" I asked.
"Well," he said, "as a matter of fact it is. He arrives to-morrow. I shall have the full programme in the morning, and will give you a copy."
What a film! My first thought was whether he would visit the battlefield. What scenes I conjured up in my imagination. To see Britain's King on the battlefield with his troops; to see him inspecting the ground; to see him in trenches lately captured from the Germans. My imagination began to run away with me. No, I thought, it will be just the ordinary reviews and reception.
But I was wrong. The scenes that I had pictured to myself I was soon to witness.
On the morrow the Captain, the still picture man and myself, left G.H.Q. for Boulogne. Arriving at the quay I looked around for any signs of preparation, but the whole place was as usual. The Captain called at the A.M.L.O.
"Do you know what time the King is due?" he asked.
The A.M.L.O. in tones of amazement ejaculated a long-drawn-out "What; never heard of his coming."
"Well, he is," said the officer. "He's arriving at midday."
"I was never informed," said the other. "I will ring up the M.L.O." He did so, and after a short time the information came through. "The King will not arrive to-day; he will be here to-morrow at 9 a.m. His sailing was altered at the last moment."
That night I turned in at the Hôtel Folkestone, making arrangements for my car to take me and my apparatus to the quay at 8.30 in the morning.
The morning fortunately was beautifully bright. I sincerely hoped it would continue. What excellent quality it promised in the films. I compared it with the weather during the last visit to France of the late Lord Kitchener; unfortunately it rained all the time.
I arrived at the quay. The French officials were gathered there, and lined up was a guard of honour, formed by the North Staffordshire Regiment. Every man had been through many engagements during the war.
I fixed up the camera. The boat had already drawn up by the quay-side. There was a hushed whisper from several officials standing by: "There he is." I looked and saw the King gaily chatting to the Naval Officer in charge.
I wondered whether His Majesty would like being photographed, therefore I carefully kept my camera under cover of a shelter close by. At that moment the King's equerry came ashore. I asked him what time His Majesty was due to land.
"Another half an hour yet," he said, "the Governor of Boulogne and other French officials are just going aboard to be introduced."
I arranged some wheeled railings in such a manner that the opening was close by my camera, thereby making sure that the King would pass very near me.
The moment arrived. My camera was in position. At that moment the King came down the gangway—he was in Field-Marshal's uniform—followed by his suite, including Lord Stamfordham, Sir Derek Keppel, Lieutenant-Colonel Clive Wigram, and Major Thompson. I started turning as he stepped on the shores of France. He gravely saluted.
Passing close by he reviewed the guard of honour, giving them a word of praise as he went. I filmed him the whole of the time, until he reached his car, bade adieux to the many officers present, and drove away to G.H.Q.
I had made an excellent start. The landing was splendid. Now to follow. The King was going to G.H.Q., breaking his journey to lunch with Sir Douglas Haig on the way. I knew I should have ample time therefore to get well ahead and film the arrival at General Headquarters.
Arriving at G.H.Q. I took up my stand near the entrance to the building. The Prince of Wales and other officers were there. I noticed that the Prince, as soon as he saw me, turned and said something to a friend near by. He evidently remembered my two previous attempts to film him.
His Majesty arrived. The Prince of Wales came to the salute, then His Majesty—not as a king, but as a father—embraced his son. I should have obtained a better view of that incident, but unluckily an officer side-stepped and partly covered the figures from my camera.
I obtained many scenes during the day of His Majesty visiting, in company with General Sir Douglas Haig, various headquarter offices, where he studied in detail the general position of the armies. I noticed that Sir Douglas did not look upon my camera very kindly. He was rather shy of the machine, though latterly he has looked with a more sympathetic eye upon it.
On the second day of the King's visit I started out and proceeded to an appointed place on the main road, where the King's car would join us.
The weather was very dull. It was causing me much concern, for to-day of all days I wanted to obtain an excellent film.
The cars pulled up. We had about fifteen minutes to wait. I fixed up my camera ready to film the meeting with General Sir Henry Rawlinson. While waiting, the General came over to me and began chatting about my work.
"I hear," he said, "that you filmed the attack of the 29th Division at Beaumont Hamel on the 1st July, and have been told of the excellence of the result."
He seemed much impressed by what I told him of the possibilities of the camera.
A patrol signalled the King's arrival. His car drew up; His Majesty alighted and heartily greeted the General. I filmed the scenes as they presented themselves.
All aboard once more—the King leading—we started on our journey for the battlefield of Fricourt.
Having hung about until the last second turning the handle, it was a rush for me to pack, and pick them up again. My car not being one of the best, I had great difficulty in keeping up with the party.
The news of the King's arrival and journey to Fricourt seemed to have spread well ahead, for everywhere numbers of troops were strewn along the roadside, and even far behind as I was, I could hear the echoing cheers which resounded over hills and valleys for miles around.
Finally the cars came to a halt at an appointed place near the ruins of the village and once beautiful woods of Fricourt, well within range of the enemies' guns.
The spot where the King alighted was known as the Citadel, a German sandbag fortification of immense strength.
It was arranged in the form of a circle, with underground tunnels and dug-outs of great depth. In various sections of the walls were machine-gun emplacements, and the whole being on the top of the hill, formed a most formidable obstacle to the advance of our troops. I may add that the hill is now known as "King George's Hill."
The King and his party had already alighted when I arrived to set up my camera, and hurrying forward was very difficult work, especially as I had to negotiate twisted masses of enemy barbed wire entanglements. But eventually, after much rushing, and being very nearly breathless, I got ahead, and planted my machine on the parapet of an old German trench and filmed the party as they passed. To keep ahead after filming each incident was very hard work. It meant waiting here and there, jumping trenches, scrambling through entanglements, stumbling into shell-holes, and at times fairly hanging by my eyebrows to the edge of trenches, balancing my camera in a way that one would have deemed almost impossible. But I am gratified to think that I managed to keep up with the King, and I succeeded in recording every incident of interest.
At a point on the hill-top the King halted, and General —— described the various movements and details of the attack and capture of the village, the King taking a very keen interest in the whole procedure.
I continued turning the handle. I did not allow a single scene to pass. Such a thing had never been known before. Throughout it all the guns, large and small, were crashing out, and the King could see the shells bursting over the German lines quite distinctly.
The guide, who was a lieutenant in the Engineers, suddenly called attention to an old German trench. The Prince of Wales first entered and examined from above the depths of an old dug-out.
With a jump I landed on the other side of the trench and sticking the tripod legs in the mud I filmed the scene in which His Majesty and the Prince of Wales inspected the captured German trenches.
The party halted at the entrance to another dug-out. The guide entered and for some moments did not reappear, the King and the General meanwhile standing and gazing down. Suddenly a voice echoed from the depths:
"Will you come down, sir?"—this remark to the King.
His Majesty laughed, but did not avail himself of the invitation.
All the party joined in the laughter, and all those who have seen that picture on the screen of His Majesty's visit to his troops, will recall the incident to which I refer. Many of the London papers in their articles, referring to the film, wondered what the joke was that the King so thoroughly enjoyed outside a German dug-out.
The party passed on, but some difficulty was experienced when they tried to get out of the trench again. The King was pulled out by the Prince of Wales, and another officer, but some members of the party experienced a difficulty which provided quite an amusing episode.
At times I had to stop and change spools. Then the party got well ahead, and on several occasions His Majesty, with his usual thoughtfulness and courtesy, hung back and debated on various things in the trenches, in order to allow me time to catch them up again.
His Majesty passed over old mine craters, and stood with his deer-stalking glasses, resting against a tree which had been withered during the fighting, watching the bombardment of Pozières. He made sympathetic enquiries by the side of a lonely grave surmounted by a rough wooden cross, on which the name and number of this hero were roughly inscribed. A shrapnel helmet, with a hole clean through the top, evidently caused by a piece of high-explosive shell, rested upon the mound.
The King stooped and picked up a piece of shell and put it in his pocket.
It was now time for His Majesty's departure. Gathered near his car was a crowd of Tommies, ready to give their King a rousing cheer as he drove away. I filmed the scene, and as the car vanished over the brow of the hill, three more were called for the Prince of Wales.
Hurriedly picking up my kit I chased away after them. On the way masses of Anzacs lined both sides of the road, and the cheers which greeted His Majesty must have been heard miles away. The scene made a most impressive picture for me. At that moment a battalion of Anzacs just out of the trenches at Pozières were passing. The sight was very wonderful, and the King saw with his own eyes some of his brave Colonials returning from their triumph, covered with clay, looking dog-tired but happy.
His Majesty was now going to view some ruins near the front, but unfortunately, owing to burst tyres, I could not keep up with the party, and by the time I got on the move again it would have been impossible for me to reach the place in time to film this scene. Therefore, knowing that he was due at No. 18 C.C.S. or "Casualty Clearing Station," I made hurried tracks for it. A most interesting picture promised to result.
I arrived at the C.C.S. and was met by the C.O. in charge.
"Hullo, Malins," he said, "still about? Always on the go, eh? The last scenes you took here came out well. I saw them in London on the R.A.M.C. film. What do you want now?"
"Well, sir," I said, "I am chasing the King, and some chase too, my word. I lost him this morning when my old bus broke down. But up to the present I have obtained a most excellent record. Topping day yesterday on the battlefield of Fricourt. I wouldn't have missed it for anything."
Half an hour later the royal car drew up. The King and the Prince of Wales alighted, and were conducted around the hospital by the C.O.
I did not miss a single opportunity of filming, from His Majesty's talk to some wounded officers, to his strolling through the long lines of hospital tents and entering them each in turn. At one point my camera was so close to the path along which the King passed, that the Prince of Wales, evidently determined not to run into my range again, quickly slipped away and crossed higher up between the other tents. An officer standing by me remarked with a laugh, "The Prince doesn't seem to like you."
A touching incident took place when the King was on the point of leaving. He stooped down and tenderly picked up a small puppy, and gently caressed and kissed it, then handed it back to the Colonel. This scene appears in the film, and illustrates His Majesty's affection for dumb animals.
I had just finished turning, when an officer came up to me and said in a low tone: "That's funny."
"What's funny?" I asked.
"Why that incident. Do you know that dog only came in here yesterday, and he has done so much mischief through playing about, that at last the C.O. determined to get rid of him. But we won't now. I shall put a red, white, and blue ribbon round his neck and call him George. He shall be the hospital's mascot."
Before I had time to reply His Majesty prepared to leave, so running with my camera I planted it in the middle of the road and filmed his departure, amid the cheers of the officers and men of the hospital.