The return from France. We've all heard it --When will they ever learn, sums it up, but this is from tales of the fellside--From the horses mouth! The soldier s are -From the top Dick Bentham ; Jackie Bentham ; Eddy Bentham.

"I was awaiting orders stood down leaning on my motorbike it was a BSA. not a good one --The FN's were better but it worked OK. a sgnal came in saying the gun on the ridge ? was nearly out of shells and needed more urgently as the enemy were pinned down by it and would mobilise if the shelling stopped. A Warrant officer turned and spotted me and called me over." Here , your a driver arnt y' " Yes sir . I replied.

They'd loaded this lorry with as much as it would hold of high expolsive shells and other stuff I diddnt know but some boxes looked like more ammo and all had the crows foot on em. The gun was up on a hill with a dirt road going up which was heavily defended by some Canadian lads , I looked at the lorrys tyres and they were the road tyres it had come with and not the tractor tyres we needed to get through the muddy tracks.

The Canadians cheered as I drove past and one threw me a lit ciggy. I thought of the cargo and flipped it back. About 100yds up the bullets started flying and the winscreen was smashed , I saw the lads in the gun battery waving and yelling as the Lanchester struggled up the hill . more bullets whistled past. it sounded like canvas ripping as they went close by. I thought the whole enemy line must be firing at me. The Lanchester only had a 20hp engine--Daimler I think. and was really struggling, anyway, it stalled and wouldnt go any further The bullets were winging off the shells and boxes and I took cover quick. The lads in the gun battery came down and dragged the boxes up to the gun placement as the Canadians laid down covering fire.

The should have put down covering fire for the Lanchester and it might have made it! Thats the army for y'"

We were in worse danger from our officers than we were from the Germans

Richard  -'Dick'- Bentham.

Verses

Akin to a Dalesmans Litany.

The birdsong sounds strange on the ear of the soldier

The lowing of cattle the bleat of the ewe

Have replaced the low drone of the gas sirens wailing

The shouting of orders the tanks crashing through.

Lace up your black boots and your long khaki gaiters

Pull on your thick greatcoat and reach for your cap
Ther'll be no saluting no screaming and shooting
Only the ghosts stalk the salient gap.


Stand high on the outrake with the racing clouds scudding
Across from the hills of the far western dales
The wind laced with smoke from the smouldering heather
You thought you would never see Yorkshire again.


Look down at the village the chimney smoke lies
In the hollows and dips like the green mustard gas

Like the shellholes and trenches of Pachendaeles quagmire

Where prayers where worth nothing and life was worth less.


You sit in the wall gap you'd started repairing
Back in 1914 when you and your mates

Had walked down to town to enlist for the army

And picked up your uniform rifle and boots.


The very same boots on your feet settle strangely
On the stones of the wall that you started to build
As the lads went away to be butchered in battle
Singing lilibulero they went to be killed..


The rumble of thunder across the wild Howgills
Sends flashes to light up te steep purple fells .
You glance at the sky with the dark brooding clouds.
The thunder rolls over you think of the shells.


It isnt your doing that you were the one
Who returned to your dale to the life that you knew
Eddy and Billy and Stanley and Jimmy
They fell with the many you stood with the few.

Yet life must go on in the unending cycle
Like the flowers in the hayfield the trees and the leaf
The flowers get cut down with the hay in high summer
The soldier the same suffers glory or grief.


In the drawer lies a medal attached to a ribbon

And sepia photographs dogeared and creased.

One for the grief and one for the glory

The pictures mean most and the medals means least.

So you look at the boots that took you into battle

Still crusted in parts with the Paschendaele mud

 You build back the wall and look back down the dale

Who's peace has been bought with your comrades spilt blood.

A stone in the churchyard with bloodsplash red poppies

The names of his comrades in dull beaten lead

Like the bullets that killed them and thousands of others
He stares at the words--'To our glorious dead' ©mike locke

By MPL.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Passchendaele

" They called me from my position and said take these mules and go to the railhead to collect the rations. They knew I was used to animals and the mules were terrified cos they smelled the blood. When I gets to the railhead theres the Quartermaster standing on a kind of duckboard. I reported to him and asked where the rations were . He just laughed and pointed to the churned up mud that came up to your middle. There were bloated rats lying dead in it and bubbles rising and popping on the top. They just threw the cases of bully off the wagon and into the mud. I went back without the rations and the seargent had a fit. Ten minutes later he was dead , A sniper saw him jumping about and popped him." Jackie Bentham.





Upon the outbreak of hostilities the Bentham boys ; Jackie, Eddy and Dick, joined up along with a lot of others from thereabouts, were given brief training and sent to France! Their Father John Had a greengrocers shop in Liffey Street Toxteth , He came from the Dales looking for work as a Cowman.  Both their parents died of tuberculosis which was rife in the area and the children were orphaned and farmed out to relatives . The girls to the mother's side and the boys to the fathers as was the tradition . The boys to "Uncle Ned " Bentham , and the girls , Isobel , Agnes , Margaret and Hannah ,  to The Parkinsons of Littletown . Dick joined up in Liverpool having fled Dent in search of sufficient money to "Liberate" his siblings . Jackie and Eddy joined up in Yorkshire! Jackie for the Northumberlands who recruited in those parts.

It was not until much later in life that the two survivors, Dick and Jackie would talk about their experiences in the trenches and the awful needless slaughter that they witnessed. However, they did and it was to me that they saw fit to tell as a record of what befell them.

I shall recount as best as I remember the events as told to me.



Dick was a motorcycle courier and was attached to the 61st (armoured?) and also had driving duties as he was identified as one of the few experienced drivers. Not many about in those days! And had to deliver munitions on a lorry to the forward gun emplacements at Ypres and St Quentin. Not a happy circumstance but he fared somewhat better than the poor bloody infantry! He was Shelled and shot at from the whole of the German line as he tried to deliver munitions to a gun emplacement on the high ground near St Quentin. He survived and returned to his batalion unscathed to the amazement of his C.O.

Jackie was a different matter. He had distinguished himself at the butts and was found to be proficient with the SMLE. –Short Magazine Lee Enfield. In fact he was a great marksman! This marked him out as a sniper, Not an enviable job but this was war! Jackie often mentioned His friend and comrade Jack Pedley who he once described to me as his “spotter” at Paschendaele where he was deployed in his sharpshooter capacity.

It was there that the inter regiment shooting match took place. It has been suggested that it was against the Germans but Although it is compelling to think that it was one of those occasions , that was not how Dick Bentham described it to me.
Jackie dismissed it saying  " Tuther fella cuddnt hit yon barn frm inside v' it"

It appears that the regiment was stood down behind the lines resting when Jackie’s Captain ordered him to fall in with his rifle and a clip of ammunition and follow him to a wooded area where another regiment had brought their best marksman for a shooting match. The officers were making wagers. The rank and file were lining the slopes of the little ravine and making their own bets with whatever they had in francs and “our own money!” The range was paced out to a single tree about 50 yards from where the marksmen stood and the target was produced. The Major placed a single silver Franc in a notch in the tree cut with a bayonet and marked around with whitewash.

Each marksman was to take three rounds of .303 and the best of these would be deemed the winner!

The tall man from the other regiment  (Never did learn which regiment ) stood forward having won the toss and drew bead on the distant tree. The rifle jerked as the shot rang out and the spotter ran up to point the shot. Low and to the left.

Jackie weighed up the mark and gauged the wind, which was blowing quite strongly across the range and took his first shot. It smacked into the white about four inches from the Franc to the right. Jackie adjusted his windage a couple of clicks and stood down to watch his adversary take his next shot. It went high about four inches. Both excellent shots under pressure and without support. Jackie took his second shot to a flurry of activity while the regiment repositioned their bets having seen how the land lay and it seems that a lot more money went on Jackie as the “form horse”. The other marksman stood forward and took his last shot. One inch away from the Franc. A great groan went up from one side and a cheer from the other as the spotter marked the shot! It looked hard to beat and the man stood back well satisfied with his shot!

Jackie stood forward to take his last shot and realising that the wind was just gusting up again threw the rifle to his shoulder and snapped the last shot off as the wind was right! The Franc spun into the air! A great shout went up as the officers ran to find the Franc and Jackie’s regiment threw hats in the air and cheered as they went to settle their bets and claim their winnings. The tall man from the other regiment shook Jackie’s hand as the officers came up with the badly bent coin which was inspected by all concerned before it was claimed by the Major as his trophy!

This I believe is actually on record . It is, however, as close to the tale related by Dick Bentham as I can remember.

Above right is a picture of John William Bentham The formidable Jackie of Nun house in Deepdale , picture taken in 1914 before the Battle of the Somme.

Jackie fought at Paschendaele and was lucky to survive the war Unlike the unfortunate Edward his younger brother in the lower picture . Eddy was gassed at St Quentin and sent home from the front but later died of lung damage in Fuse hill hospital in Carlisle. He was buried with his parents John and Isabella in Dent graveyard, The first grave on the left as you approach the Church from the marketplace. His name appears on the war memorial to the right of the church door--in lead!©mike locke

©

"Lillibulero ", it it reported ,was written by a parliamentarian soldier during the English civil war--(Ther y' go again Slaughtering each other!!)-- Rare thing in those days to find a soldier who could write-and write music too??
They should have had him stuffed and mounted--Then killed! ;-)

Heres Mike Hardings take--Mike lived for a while in the same valley that was home to the Bentham lads so he can have a slot here too.




AND FINALLY!!!!!!!!!!


That just sums it all up!! Leave it to the ANZACS for the final word!!----- "I say --Godfrey I seem to have forgotten my thingy--whatsitcalled--ER --gun--beastly thing!!-- Got my hot water bottle though!! " There were lots of references to the bravery of the troops , lots of references to the tyrrany of the officers. An abiding theme throughout history. There were notable exceptions--Noel Chavasse being the best example.

Lions led by DONKEYS!!!!

©mike locke

This is a picture of Percy Douglas Locke drawn at Etaple camp in 1917 on the back of the "Swansdown" Lable. See the writing on the left in Percy's hand , Percy was blown up by a mine and buried alive for two days with various injuries. He eventually burrowed his way out and was repatriated to military hospital. Thereafter , he would never use a lift , (elevator)

He would never travel in a lift and had an acute dislike of confined spaces --Prefectly understandable.

He was the nicest gentleman you could ever hope to meet. Not cut out for war but knew where his duty l