The post of honour

by Richard Wilson

Then there was Captain Ball of the Royal Flying Corps who had no less than forty-three German aeroplanes and one balloon to his credit. This officer’s activity and resource in the air were truly marvellous. On one occasion, when flying alone, he fought six enemy machines, on another five, and on another four, and in each fight he brought down at least one of his opponents.

One day the British airmen were engaged in bombing an enemy train when one of their pilots was forced to come down within the enemy’s lines. Lieutenant Macnamara saw German horsemen approaching him and set out to the rescue. He planed down under heavy rifle fire, and in spite of a wound in his thigh landed at about 200 yards from the damaged machine. The pilot quickly climbed on to the lieutenant’s machine and an attempt was made to rise.

Owing to his wound, however, Macnamara was unable to keep his machine straight and it turned over. As soon as it touched the ground, the two men got out from the wreckage, set fire to it, and ran to the first aeroplane, which they were able to start. And although he was weak from loss of blood the lieutenant was able to take the machine a distance of seventy miles to the aerodrome. For this gallant and adventurous rescue he was awarded the Victoria Cross.

Sergeant Harry Cator, of the East Surrey Regiment, was busily making secure the first line which had been captured from the enemy, but was greatly worried by a certain machine-gun. One after another of his men fell dead or wounded until the brave sergeant could endure it no longer. So, with only one companion, in full view of the enemy, and under heavy fire, he went out across the open to attack the machine-gun and put an end to the annoyance.

After a few steps across that fire-swept zone, the sergeant’s companion was killed; but Cator went doggedly on, picking up a Lewis gun and some ammunition on the way. In time he came to one end of the enemy trench and worked himself into a position where he could cover the machine-gun which he had marked out for his own. Nor was it long before the whole of the gun crew as well as the officer were accounted for. Then the sergeant went over to the gun, put it out of action, and brought away the officer’s papers. But before he returned to our own lines he went back to his Lewis gun and covered a bombing party which was able to work along the trench and to capture 100 prisoners and five machine-guns.

Sergeant Sifton of the Canadian Battalion did similar work during a trench attack. He charged a machine-gun single-handed, killing all the crew, and then gave up his life in holding off an enemy attack while his own platoon was gaining a desired position. Another sergeant named Steele of the Seaforths reversed the order by carrying a machine-gun well in advance of our line and was the chief means of keeping it intact during a strong attack by the enemy.

Corporal Cunningham of the Leinster Regiment was in command of a Lewis gun section on the most exposed flank of our attack. His men came under heavy fire and suffered badly, and he was almost alone when at last he was able to bring his gun into action. A party of twenty Germans came on to the attack. Cunningham worked off all his ammunition upon them and then standing up in full view of the enemy commenced throwing bombs. He was wounded and fell to the ground, but picked himself up and went on fighting until his bombs were exhausted. Then he made his way back to our lines with a fractured arm and other wounds. He was taken to hospital, where he died a little later from the effects of his wounds.

Corporal George Jarratt was one of the noble army who during the war directly gave his life to save others. He had been made a prisoner with some wounded men and placed with them in a dug-out. On that same evening the enemy were driven back by our troops and the British bombers began an attack upon the dug-outs. A hand grenade fell into the hollow where Jarratt was lying, and he deliberately placed his feet upon it so as to break the force and direction of the explosion that followed and save the men who were lying at a little distance from him. He succeeded in his intention, but received injuries from which he died before he could be removed with the others who owed their lives to his ready devotion.

Here is another war picture of a stirring kind, the central figure of which was Private Michael Heaviside of the Durham Light Infantry. In the early dawn a wounded man was seen in a shell-hole in No Man’s Land about forty yards from the enemy’s line. He was making signals of distress and holding up his empty water-bottle.

It was impossible at the moment to send out a stretcher party, for this particular spot was unusually “unhealthy”; but Heaviside at once volunteered to carry food and drink to the wounded man, in spite of the heavy fire. So he set out on his heroic errand and managed to reach the shell-hole unhurt to find the wounded man almost mad with thirst and suffering great pain from a severe wound. He had lain there for four days and three nights and the arrival of Heaviside was the means of saving his life. Later in the day the rescuer was able to finish his work of mercy by taking out a stretcher party and bringing the wounded man into a place of safety.