A WW1 sea plane carrier takes Jack to Port Said

As we have seen in docudramas on TV in recent weeks ‘every letter tells a story’ and as a writer it seemed the most effective way of communicating the tale of the lives of the Newton family as each play their part in The Great War. In this extract of ‘Ancasta Guide me Swiftly Home‘ Jack serves on one of the earliest sea plane carriers in the waters off Turkey.

I have used various techniques including letters, story telling, conversation and the arrival of Harry Harper, the air correspondent of The Daily Mail, to describe the changing lives of each of the Newton family.  Here I use the ‘now’ impact of letters, where conversation is impossible:

“As for Harriet’s son, Jack, he was now a competent and skilled mechanic, and having specialised in sea planes he was an asset to the RNAS. He travelled with his twin brother, Tom, to Winchester where Tom was to be transported north east with the rest of his regiment, following a short period of training. They said their short goodbyes and Jack continued on the train to London. His first visit to the capital was a little daunting, even for the brash Jack, but he had no time to dwell on the sights before finding his way to Liverpool Street Station where he caught a train to Harwich, reassured by the sight of many young men like him, nervously setting off into the unknown.

Once at the dock he was sent to a nearby training camp where he was put through drill and other preparations for the dangerous sea voyage that was to come, including basic strategies for defence and attack, to ensure he was prepared for any eventuality.

Jack’s role on board the tender would be to maintain and assist in the launch of the sea planes: no mean feat, as he discovered when they attempted a mock launch of a Sopwith Schneider sea plane in the harbour a month later. The plane was launched successfully from the ‘flying off’ deck at the front of the ship and made a few graceful circles before alighting on the water, taxiing towards the side of the ship. The hardest and most dangerous part was attaching it to the winch to be brought safely back on deck and he put life and limb in danger at each attempt. Excitedly, he wrote home to Hannah:

15^th April, 1915

My dear Hannah,

I have enjoyed the most exhilarating time here in the port. You cannot imagine my joy when we finally embarked on HMS Ben my Chree, what a funny name for a ship. I thought I would be on a grand ship called the Majestic or Princess Elizabeth. Nevertheless it has been good finally to set sail and to leave the claustrophobic training camp. I had thought my training days were never going to end.

Today I was so proud when we launched one of our planes directly from the ship. It was wonderful, just like watching our little Phyllis take her first steps. How is she by the way? In fact the only thing to mar my joy at being here is that I am so far away from you and I cannot see her sweet face.

I know you are angry at me for volunteering so soon, but you’ll see. We’ll be sending out our sea planes on such successful missions that we’ll surprise the enemy, catch them on the hop and soon the war will be over. I’m sure you cannot begrudge me wanting to do my bit for my country.

Please give my love to Mother and Sarah and send news to Tom that I am well. I do believe that he has the hardest task in this war on the ground and my hope is that he too escapes the wet muddy fields of France and is given a chance to see a bit of the world. My part is just fun, mending and maintaining sea planes and sending them on their way. It’s what I do best. I’ll be fine, you’ll see.

Yours,

Jack

Jack was standing on deck, full of excitement when on 3^rd May 1915 the Ben my Chree left Harwich to take part in the raid on Norddeich but his heart sank when his unfortunate ship was forced to return to harbour due to fog. When back at Harwich, he was pleased to receive a letter from Hannah:

26^th April, 1915

My dear Jack,

Phyllis and I are both well and settled in at your mother’s. She is very kind and good company for us and it means that we have saved so much in rent we could ill afford with you away.

We had a very quiet Christmas but we made the occasion as cheerful as possible for the sake of the children. You should have seen Phyllis open the picture of your ship you sent for her and she has proudly put it up on her wall beside her bed. It is a very strange looking ship, I must say, but I expect it is because of the deck where you launch those sea planes you so love.

After Christmas, Sarah and I made an important decision which I must tell you about. We began training at Supermarine under Ernest’s supervision. The benefits of this are many. Firstly, it means that we are able to make a greater contribution to the household expenses, since there are fewer fee-paying guests in these difficult times. Secondly, and more important, is that we feel we are contributing to the war effort.

I can’t say that we enjoy the dirty dusty tasks, but the girls we work with are such fun that we make the most of it. Now it’s spring time it’s easier to keep our spirits up and believe that war might end soon. I do hope so with all my heart.

Phyllis and Mother send their love to you, as does Sarah. Please keep safe, my dear Jack, and don’t go and do anything heroic.

Yours,

Hannah

 

Jack’s letter in return was less optimistic:

7^th May, 1915

My dear Hannah,

Thank you for your letter. It was good to hear that you are well but I am worried that you are working at the factory. That’s no work for a young lady such as yourself and you should be at home looking after our daughter.  I’m not happy with the arrangement at all and cross with Mother for allowing it to happen. I expect it is Ernest putting these ideas into your young head or that headstrong sister of mine.

I am afraid that here we are back in dock for minor repairs to our ship, which was rammed by one of our own, would you believe! We also had no end of trouble with the Schneider and had to abort its launch. That’s one of our best sea planes. You cannot understand how frustrating it is to be back with so little to show for it.

The only fortunate circumstance to come out of this delay is that I received your letter and though some of your news worries me, I will still treasure it close to my heart in the voyage ahead.

I cannot tell you where we are bound shortly, because it is a secret but I do know that it will be a long way away. It is sad that there is not enough time for me to visit you but rest assured that I am thinking of you.

Please send my love to Mother, Ernest, Sarah and Tom if you are able to and to Phyllis as ever.

I do love you, even though I do not tell you very often. By the way, I found out that ‘Ben my Chree’ means ‘Lady of My Heart’! My fondness for this ship grew when I heard of its apt name and I’m sure that it will bring us good luck.

Yours,

Jack

 

Jack felt relief as HMS Ben my Chree finally set off from Harwich towards the Mediterranean and it was a long time before the family at Bourton Villas heard from him again. Once the voyage was underway Jack was uncharacteristically nervous as to what might lay ahead, but as his ship arrived at its first destination, his role of preparing the new Short seaplanes for reconnaissance work became quite routine.

He was just beginning to think that this work was no more exciting than his time at Calshot when on 15th August one of their best pilots, Flight Commander Charles Humphrey Kingsman Edmonds, made the first ever successful aerial torpedo attack on a Turkish ship in the Dardenelles. When this was followed by more success, Jack felt in his element. So proud was he to be part of this mission that he wished he could share his joy with the folks back home.

His wish was to be granted because a few months later they headed to Port Said.

 

20^th February, 1916

My darling Hannah,

You would be so proud of your husband now! We have given the Turks what for and our planes have been at the centre of the action. When we rehearsed in England I would never have believed how much good we could do with these beauties. They are truly like my children and as I see them fly into action I feel such a glow in my heart.

How is Phyllis, by the way? She must be quite a little girl now and chattering so much too, I expect. Does she remember her daddy, I wonder?

All our practice for launching sea planes from the deck at home was a complete waste of time because we found out the hard way that it was much too risky. Now we always use a winch, hoisting the aircraft carefully over the side and on to the water. They have fitted long poles at the sides of the ship to fend off the planes and stop them bumping into the ship, or worse still, into one of us. They are a godsend. My job is made all the more difficult by the heat here, which creates havoc with our engines. Having enough spare parts to keep these babies flying causes me a constant headache, but me and Patrick Jones, he’s my right hand man here like he was in Calshot, usually manage it in the end.

After the excitement of our success with the Turks we did a good job in rescuing some Australians from their sunken ship, which I’m sure you will think was worthwhile, and then we headed towards Egypt. It was fortunate that we were near port when the SS Uganda came along side us. You wouldn’t believe it, but we collided! In fact I was amazed when it happened too, and couldn’t in my worst nightmares dream that we might be nearly sunk by our own side a second time. Fortunately, nothing of that nature happened, but nevertheless we are now here at Port Said waiting for repairs to be done.

Being in port has its compensations.  With a bit of ingenuity we cleared the hangers and have been able to have quite a party, putting the piano we already had on board to even better use. What a time we’ve had! Who said there was a war on?

Another good thing to come out of this mess is being able to write to you and at least I can reassure you that I am well and safe. I hope that this confounded war ends soon and that I am able to return to you in one piece. Please give my love to Mother and a big hug to our little Phyllis.

Yours as ever,

Jack

Ancasta Guide me Swiftly Home is Diana Jackson’s second novel, set between 1910 and 1920 telling the stories of members of the Newton family as they embark on their own role on The Great War. 

November 1914 ~ Anthony realises his dream to learn to fly ~Almost!

The following extract from ‘Ancasta Guide me Swiftly Home‘ tells the story of Anthony who longs to learn to fly. Here he is sent initially to France as an Observer, taking photographs of the battle below.

I have used various techniques including letters, story telling, conversation and the arrival of Harry Harper, the air correspondent of The Daily Mail, to describe the changing lives of each of the Newton family.  Here I have used letters and good old fashioned descriptive story telling:

“12^th November, 1914

My dear Sarah and little Timothy,

I hope that you are comfortable in your mother’s new guest house and that Timothy, you are being good for Mummy and Grandma. I have missed you these last few months and it’s been so quiet without you.

I have some exciting news for you. I have been transferred to Fort Grange and I am going to learn to fly in an aeroplane. It is a dream come true for me and I know that you will be so proud of your daddy.

I start my training tomorrow, but it may be many weeks before I get into the air. I need to learn all about aeroplanes first and as soon as I have more news for you I will write again.

Yours as ever,

Anthony

 

The next morning, Anthony began his training in the makeshift classroom at Fort Grange. Initially he sat fighting off the irritation of irrational impatience, much like the other naive young men in the room. His experienced trainer had such a businesslike manner, but it was tinged with a down to earth sense of humour, which was in fact the best combination for a military instructor. Soon he had Anthony at his ease and had instilled in him a vitality and enthusiasm to excel.

The weeks passed quickly and Anthony passed his examinations, progressing on to the more practical part of his training: that of understanding and maintaining his aircraft. He found this more of a challenge but was surprised how quickly be began to understand the workings of the engine and to recognise irregular noises, suggesting a plausible diagnosis. The instruments inside the cockpit were still an irresistible mystery to him and he longed for the moment when he would one day take control.

The next part of his training was back in the classroom, poring over numerous maps and photographs, for initially Anthony was to be trained as an Observer, to sit behind the pilot on reconnaissance missions. So far Anthony had been at the Grange for several weeks and still he had not been up in an aeroplane but the day when he passed his last examinations was a cause for great celebration in the mess.

The following day he sat behind the pilot, nervously waiting for takeoff. The mechanic stood at the ready for the signal. As soon as contact was confirmed, the mechanic spun the propeller and the engine burst into song. It was certainly a tune familiar to Anthony’s ears by now and it filled him with anticipation in the depths of his stomach. Almost as soon as the chocks were taken away from under her wheels by the attendees, the aircraft started to taxi over the bumpy ground. The vibration of the engine in front of him was as startling as its deafening noise. The throttle was opened and they sped off across the turf. There was no time to take a breath because within seconds they had lifted into the air. He felt exhilarated and was almost distracted from his mission by the amazing sights around him. As they flew over Portsmouth Harbour he tore his gaze from the coastline. As they banked to the left, he began to note key features such as ships off the coast and sea planes readying themselves for takeoff on Haslar Beach and he was proud of himself when he sighted a ‘friendly’ submarine, just submerged below the surface of the water.

After a few more weeks of training, when he suppressed his enthusiasm to be master of the controls rather than seated as an observer in the front cockpit, he was relieved to pass all the tests and achieve a reasonable level of accuracy in target practice. He was given three days’ leave to visit family and caught the train to Woolston. It was an emotional reunion and he spent the precious few days with Sarah and Timothy, jealous of the times they shared with her family in the now overcrowded household. Keeping three rooms for Harriet’s fee paying guests left one room for Sarah and Timothy to share, and another for her sister-in-law Hannah and her child Phyllis. On the following Sunday afternoon, Ernest kindly agreed to take them to Hythe by horse and trap, borrowed from the drayman in Itchen Ferry village, where Anthony felt less claustrophobic and there they were able to spend a civilised few hours taking tea in his parent’s large garden. His mother was so proud of his single wing sign on his uniform with an ‘O’ which signified that he was now a trained Observer, although it was clear that she was unsure as to why her son was not yet a pilot.

All too soon it was time to leave for Southampton, where he would meet up with his new unit before crossing to France. Sarah was overcome as they had one last embrace before he caught the Floating Bridge and it was all she could do to hold Timothy to restrain him from running after his father. This time there was no hiding from this little man that his father was off to war and even in his young intelligent mind he had observed the tears from neighbours as men folk had not returned. Sarah held him firmly by the hand and encouraged him to wave as Anthony disappeared from view on the farthest shore of the River Itchen.

Anthony walked amongst strangers along the busy streets to the docks.  He was drawn towards the Bargate where shoppers were lining the streets to cheer regiment after regiment of infantry, some who had walked all the way from Winchester and were marching proudly to the docks. He also watched some Avro 504s being loaded on to a waiting ship. He was struck by the greyness of the multitude of vessels which was a bleak contrast to the usual colourful sight of ferries and liners in the port.

It was a smooth crossing and they disembarked at Le Havre, where they faced a long journey by train to the airfield at Amiens. He settled in to his makeshift world of Nissen huts, taking time to sort out his few personal belongings with the utmost care, in order to dispel the unease he felt at being near the Western Front at last.

After a fitful night he had no time to dwell on the danger of his position as he was scheduled to make his first sortie over enemy lines that very evening. He and his pilot were encouraged to make several flights that morning in order to regain their confidence in flying, to get to know each other and also to get their bearings so that they would be more familiar with landmarks pointing back to base. It was a bitterly cold November day. The wind was blustery, making flying difficult and the rain was piercing. Despite the inhospitable weather, Anthony was relieved to be back in the air again and the two men soon became an inseparable team, treating each sortie as an adventure, though they cursed the rain as an inconvenience.

It was late one afternoon, when they were sent on their first mission to cross enemy lines and report back the up to date positions of the Hun, that it really struck Anthony psychologically, almost as hard as a real bullet might have hit him physically. At first hand he witnessed the British troops in the muddy trenches below and the close proximity of the enemy. When he realised that a strange heap of muddy rubbish littering the sodden ground beneath him was in truth the remains of bodies, left where they had fallen, he almost vomited out of the cockpit, his instructions forgotten.

It was only the short sharp orders from his pilot which brought Anthony to his senses and he resumed his important task of recording what he had seen. His training came into its own at that moment and he concentrated wholeheartedly on his task, so that when they eventually returned to base, his Commanding Officer was pleased with what he had to report.

It was only late that night, when he longed for the oblivion of sleep in order to erase the vivid pictures still flickering through his mind, that he realised how wise it had been to test his resilience as an observer initially, rather than to waste time training him as a pilot in the first instance. As the idea closed on him like the shutter on his camera, he hardened his resolve and sank into a deep dreamless sleep.”

Ancasta Guide me Swiftly Home is Diana Jackson’s second novel, set between 1910 and 1920 telling the stories of members of the Newton family as they embark on their own role on The Great War.

Friends reflect on the changing roles of their loved ones in WW1

To commemorate the centenary of WW1 I am sharing with you some extracts of my second novel, Ancasta Guide me Swiftly Home’ which takes the Newton family, who live in Woolston, Southampton, through The Great War. In this piece, Harriet, the matriarch of  the series, has a surprise visitor, Edward, with whom she grew up on the island of Riduna (Alderney)  – Joe was her husband who died in 1910. 

I have used various techniques including letters, story telling, conversation and the arrival of Harry Harper, the air correspondent of The Daily Mail, to describe the changing lives of each of the Newton family.  Here I use conversation:

“It was with her family around her, apart from Tom and Jack, that Harriet prepared for the frugal Christmas ahead. With no end to the hostilities in sight, and more young men volunteering from the village every day, she remembered Harry Harper’s words and shivered. After Christmas, Hannah and Sarah offered to be trained at Supermarine to join the growing force of women workers who kept the industry afloat, since the demand for aircraft was ever increasing. Harriet’s role was now to look after the children as well as to run the guest house.

Although money was no longer an issue with both young ladies at work, she found there was less and less in the shops on which to spend the housekeeping. They only had a back yard for guests to sit in when the weather was good and no room for growing many vegetables, though she had put some tomatoes in pots and some lettuce, parsnip and carrot seeds in the place where there had been a very small lawn.

One day she was tinkering in the garden to get some fresh air, to avoid spending this spring morning doing the large pile of darning and mending in the corner of the kitchen, when, to her surprise, the little robin came and sat on the handle of her trowel. His presence brought calm to her otherwise troubled world and she gained strength from the feeling that Joe was close at hand.

‘What would you think of all of this, Joe?’ Harriet asked the robin.

‘I don’t know what Joe thinks, but I think that if you were talking to me like that I’d recommend that you be sent away for your own safety,’ remarked Edward, grinning.

When finding no one in the kitchen, unbeknown to Harriet, he had crept out into the yard behind her.

‘Don’t do that to me, Edward!’ Harriet replied crossly. ‘To what do I owe the pleasure?’ she added, unable to hide a hint of sarcasm, referring to the fact that she had not seen hide nor hair of him since before the outbreak of war.

‘Well, that’s a fine way to greet your oldest friend,’ he added, his face continuing to show signs of his unrepentant amusement.

‘I’m sorry, Edward. I was far away. It’s just this horrible war. It gets to you sometimes. I’ll make a cup of tea, shall I?’

Feeling a little braver this time, Edward replied,

‘I’ll have coffee if you’ve got some,’ but he wished he hadn’t made an issue of it as he watched Harriet reach far into the back of a cupboard and spoon out what was obviously the last of her coffee.

‘How are you Edward and how has this war affected your life?’

Edward seated himself comfortably at Harriet’s large kitchen table and began his tale, uninterrupted by Harriet, who sat opposite him, glad of an excuse to have a rest.

‘Not long after war was declared I knew my easy days of being Captain for a ferry of travellers and businessmen would soon be at an end, but I wasn’t sure how it would affect my life. It happened all too soon. My ship was commandeered to be a troop ship and repainted grey. At first it was quite exciting and the enthusiasm of the young soldiers I carried to France, not long out of nappies some of them, I can tell you, was contagious. I found myself singing their songs in my sleep. Since then it’s been tough. I’m always watching out for enemy submarines and trying to close my eyes to the state of the poor sods we bring back.’

Edward noticed Harriet’s face turn pale and thought at first that she was cross with him.

‘Excuse the language Harriet, but you should see them!’  he exclaimed in anger, but when Harriet didn’t reply, he realised his thoughtlessness. ‘And what news of your boys, Harriet?’ he asked more gently.

She tried to regain her composure and forget the images Edward’s words had conjured up for her.

‘Oh, Edward. I really don’t know. Jack’s an engineer for the RNAS and he and his brother left a couple of months ago. The last we heard was that he was undergoing some military training in a place near London.  Tom has signed up for the 9^th (Cyclist’s) Battalion and he’s somewhere in Lincolnshire.’

‘That’s good. They’re still safe on English soil, then. Maybe the war will end before they get into danger.’

Unfortunately, neither Harriet nor Edward believed that this might be the case, but it sometimes helped to pretend.

‘What about Ernest and Sarah? Where are they now?’

‘Fortunately, Ernest is still at home, working at Supermarine. Sarah and Jack’s wife, Hannah, are working there too now, much to my disgust. Anthony and Jack aren’t too pleased about it either, but needs must, I suppose, and I enjoy looking after their children when they’re home from school.’

After a pause, Harriet was surprised to hear her own voice ask,

‘How is Marie, Edward?’

Realising the significance of Harriet mentioning Marie’s name, Edward was flustered momentarily.

‘Marie. Well, she got religion just after the start of the war and volunteered to help out at the docks with the Salvation Army of workers. They wouldn’t let her wear a fully fledged uniform, her and I not being…. well, you understand……. but they were certainly grateful for the extra pair of hands.’

‘What does she do?’ asked Harriet, ignoring Edward’s hesitant embarrassment.

‘She meets the injured soldiers coming off the ships from France. If they’re seriously injured she writes a postcard from them to their families to let them know that they’ve safely arrived back in England. She gets them to dictate or write the address if they can, before the men are sent on to hospital. Marie and I usually travel over on the Hotspur together, but a neighbour was sick today and so she stayed at home.’

Harriet realised that this was the true reason for the length of time since Edward’s last visit, but decided that she should be diplomatic and change the subject rather than to challenge him, but couldn’t think of anything to say. They sat quietly for a little while, each with their own thoughts, the uneasy silence heavy between them. Reluctantly, Edward decided that he must make a move and return to his ship. He was saddened that they were unable to relax in each other’s company the way they used to on Riduna. All that history between them.

As he stood up, their eyes met and for just a few seconds it was as if time stood still, but at that very moment two children burst through the door, coming to an immediate halt as they saw Edward standing there.

‘Don’t be shy, Timothy and Phyllis. Come here and meet your Uncle Edward. He’s a sailor and sails big ships to faraway places.’

Forgetting his shyness, Timothy came forward and took hold of Edward’s outstretched hand.

‘My dad flies in an aeroplane,’ he exclaimed proudly as he shook Edward’s hand.

‘And what about you, little lady?’ asked Edward as Phyllis went to hide behind Harriet’s chair.

‘Phyllis’s dad mends seaplanes, doesn’t he, Phyllis? Don’t be shy and say hello to your uncle.’

Phyllis stayed behind Harriet for protection but as Edward moved to the door he winked at her and she beamed a beautiful cheeky smile.

‘I’ll call again as soon as I can,’ said Edward as he reached the open doorway, smiling briefly at Harriet as he disappeared down the road towards the Floating Bridge.”

Ancasta Guide me Swiftly Home is Diana Jackson’s second novel, set between 1910 and 1920 telling the stories of members of the Newton family as they embark on their own role on The Great War.