The Times Great War Letters: Correspondence during the First World War. James Owen
having regard, too, to their “excellent character” as soldiers, and to further rouse the martial spirit of their nation in support of this just war, would it not be a graceful compliment, which no Welshman would be ever likely to forget, to form a Regiment of Welsh Guards? The sister nations of England and Scotland have for a long time past had their Guards Regiments, and only a few years ago the formation of the Irish Guards afforded ample evidence of how much gratification and pride that most tactful idea of the late Queen Victoria created in the national sentiment of Ireland.
No suggestion would be more popularly acclaimed in Wales. No idea would more vividly stir the imagination of the people. A battalion could be raised in very quick time, especially, as might, perhaps, be necessary, if the standard of height usual in Guards Regiments were slightly reduced. Then, with Wales’s own young Prince as Colonel-in-Chief, there would exist a new regiment of Guards of which both Wales and the British Army would have every justification in feeling proud. A highly-emotional and always loyal people, the Welsh even now let none of the Empire’s races outvie them in valour or in loyalty, and I confidently submit it would be sound policy for Lord Kitchener to carry out the proposition set forth.
I am, Sir, yours faithfully,
J. AUBREY REES
Four days after the publication of this letter, King George V commanded that a battalion of Welsh Guards be raised.
INTRUSION ON BEREAVEMENT
9 February 1915
SIR,—MAY I, AS ONE whose sad privilege it has been to announce the death of one of his sons in action in your paper, venture to make an appeal on behalf of those who in the future may have to follow in my footsteps?
I appeal first to those who in the interests of their business watch your obituary columns, and think they afford an opportunity of pushing the sale of their wares in the form of sculptured urn or Iona cross, forgetful, perhaps, that our boy lies “within some lonely glen,” the very site of whose grave may have passed already from human memory, or may perhaps be identified by some faithful French peasant in whose cottage he died when we go on our way weeping to find it when the war is over. I would ask these tradesmen to respect our mourning and to remember that few of us, be we father, mother, husband, wife, have not already had recourse some time or other to their services, and when the time appropriate occurs may seek it again.
Then, again, there are the photograph enlargers, miniature painters, &c., and finally I would appeal to those who, with a singular lack of delicacy and failure to understand the ethics of Christianity, take the opportunity of plunging our stricken souls into vexed questions of eschatology, and ask us to ponder the probability of our dear one’s “soul being saved” by means of circulars dwelling on this solemn subject. It is not only impertinent but fatuous, and would seem almost incredible that people should have such bad taste; but it is the case, and only last week such a pamphlet found its way into my fire.
Then, again, there are other societies of a philanthropic character who take the opportunity of a chance appearance of one’s name in the paper to urge the insistence of their claims at a moment when personal sorrow does not make even the most benevolent the most approachable.
I suppose these worthy tradesmen and societies can have no knowledge of the pain and annoyance they give in systematically opening wounds that God’s comfort is quietly healing, but if they have not, I would ask them to put themselves in our place, and not to exploit our grief for their advantage, and whilst we mourn our fallen soldier, leave us alone in our glory.
Yours faithfully,
PATER MÆRENS
THE ZEPPELIN RAID ON THE EAST COAST
11 February 1915
SIR,—I REGRET I WAS not in the House of Commons when the Home Secretary, in answer to a question put by Sir William Bull, unexpectedly made a statement regarding the motor-cars alleged to have accompanied the Zeppelins in their raid on the East Coast. Perhaps, under these circumstances, you will kindly allow me the hospitality of your columns in order to submit a counter-statement, for I am anxious that the public should be placed in possession of the real facts of the case.
Let me first test the value of the Home Secretary’s statement that there were eight cars traced by the Norfolk Constabulary about the time of the raid and satisfactorily accounted for. The Constabulary were singularly blind that night. There were no less than six cars in different parts of Snettisham at the time mentioned, three of which were open to the gravest suspicion. Of these three the constable saw nothing. Similarly, the constable stationed at Heacham, where two bombs fell, informed me that after 6.30 p.m. no car passed through that place. As a matter of fact two cars visited the lower part of the village, one immediately before and one immediately after the raid, and both excited suspicion. Again, within 20 minutes of each other three cars dashed through Brancaster Staith, which is 10 miles distant from Heacham, the last one closely followed by the Zeppelin. The audacity of the occupants of that car passes belief, but in order that the statement of the witness I am about to quote may not be brushed aside too lightly, I ought to explain that the Zeppelin, whilst over Brancaster Staith, was flying very low, scarcely higher, as another witness states, than the telegraph wires. And I may as well here say that all my statements are based upon the evidence of what I believe to be perfectly credible witnesses. Here is the statement referred to:—
“On that particular night I was in my home in Brancaster Staith. About 10 p.m. I heard a Zeppelin passing over the house. It remained some minutes above the field adjoining, as if uncertain about something. A motor-car with the most brilliant headlights imaginable then rushed along the road from Deepdale towards Brancaster, and when by the side of the field mentioned above the occupants in the car all shouted very loudly, and two small lights were flashed as a reply from the Zeppelin. Then the latter travelled off after the motor-car. I saw the headlights and heard the shouting, but did not see the two lights from the Zeppelin, as I was in the front of the house; but the lights were seen by other occupants of the house… My observations were those of many people in Brancaster Staith.”
When it is remembered that the night was very still and that the Zeppelin (as remarked to me by witnesses in other parts of the county) occasionally shut off her engines, I submit there is nothing incredible in this statement.
I have a number of letters before me giving evidence of the presence of motor-cars that night in various parts of the county, but it is unnecessary to belabour that portion of the evidence. Correspondents from all parts of the county speak of seeing a motor-car with extraordinarily powerful lights in different places followed by an airship and sometimes throwing up flashes. A well-known and much-respected farmer living on the land high above Snettisham Church speaks to seeing flashes of light sent up from six different parts in the neighbourhood, and he has forwarded me a diagram giving the approximate position of the Zeppelin as judged by the noise of her engines and the spots whence the flashes proceeded. Another farmer, also perfectly trustworthy, gives evidence of a powerful light on the other side of Snettisham being directed on the church a moment before the dropping of the bomb. There are eight credible witnesses who can speak to the flashes that proceeded from “Sixpenny Hole” and attracted the Zeppelin to the church. The car that threw these flashes went off by a narrow side lane, which no one who could avoid it would take by night. This car reappeared at the turning into Dersingham and there threw up what appeared to be a definite signal—two upward flashes and one cross flash. At the turning by the church, which leads directly to Sandringham, it threw up more flashes. Similar evidence is forthcoming from the other districts from west to east, right up to the suburbs of Norwich. What a strange series of coincidences are required to explain the circumstance that a powerfully lighted motor-car constantly preceded the Zeppelin in its journeyings through Norfolk that night! And can anyone suggest a reason why the sober inhabitants of Norfolk should be found rushing about the county at a particular