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Remembered Today:

Sgt. Thomas William Chisholm

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The battle behind us, the road ahead and so ends my first day of captivity.


Sgt Thomas William Chisholm

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One incident which happened goes to prove some of the almost unbelievable atrocities which the enemy committed during the war and a few of our boys being almost in the rear of the column witnessed it without being able to give a helping hand so just had to bear it and keep moving.

 

It was when their Red Cross men were coming over the ground passing our killed and wounded and not offering to give a hand to relieve their sufferings in the least. (I might mention before going any further that these supposed Red Cross people unlike our R.Q.M.C., were armed with an automatic revolver, cartridge pouch and bayonet.) This particular German walked over to a man lying with his guts hanging out having been hit with a piece of flying shell, the man was doomed in the first place as it was really no good trying to patch him up, but the German walked up to him, and trying to raise himself on one arm asked for water. The swine just shook his head saying ‘Nein, nein,nein nix wasser.’. The tommy, who was a Durham man opened his breast pocket, took out his wallet and offered him a fifty franc note, again gasping out ‘Water,water.’. At this the Gerry took everything from him and drawing his bayonet, slashed him across the mouth. The man then lost consciousness and with a howl, we started forward to attack but being without arms we could do nothing and our guards, for there were plenty of them and big ones at that, with a yell of “Rouse!” or words meaning to ‘get back’, we could do nothing but grit our teeth and with a few curses the German moved on his way, and we were marched in the opposite direction. We never saw our comrade no more, for he was sure to die a brutal and inhuman death.

 

We continued our journey along the river road and three hundred yards further on came across some of his General Staff mounted on horse-back. One gentleman in particular, having under his arm an English loaf of bread and a jar of jam. It seems hard to believe, but never the less quite true. There he sat watching prisoners move past, and he, every now and then tearing a handful of bread would dip it into the jam, and eat as if his very life depended upon it.

 

Another quarter of a mile or so and we were passing in the shadow of the great California Plateau, and on looking up to the top most point we could see a crowd of German officers and a few yards ahead of them there was standing a solitary man standing with his cape gently blowing  in the breeze. This man proved later to be the great War Lord of Germany, the Kaiser himself watching his troops doing their work of destruction as they moved forward.

 

The heat of the day was at it’s worst now and we were beginning to feel the effects and wondering when we were going to get a halt and something to eat because the last good meal we had was about 4:30pm on Sunday afternoon and it was now 2:30pm on Monday. We had no water either to fall back on as a reserve having dumped all before being taken, so we just trudged along, Fred No 1 on the right, myself on the left and being supported by us was Fred No 2 my batman, as we had to carry our own wounded, and with no idea where we were bound for, what with our sore feet, parched throats, the heat together with the groans from Fred 2 it was a very unpleasant position to be in. Fred 1 cursed the square head fluently all the way.

 

This continued until 6:30pm without a spell, when we arrived at a fairly large barbed wire compound and being counted when passing through the gate, all this done the gate was securely locked and surrounded by guards. On looking round there was no chance of escape.

 

Next we were fed our first meal in captivity. Well, now came a problem. Having no small kit what were we going to get this meal in, and what to eat it with? Fred 1 came to the rescue, taking off his steel helmet, he tore out the lining and low and behold there was as good a soup bowl as one could wish to have. Many followed likewise and forming up in the line, arrived at the boiler from which a German with a litre measure, dished out a white liquid, which turned out to be nothing else but flour and water boiled, so putting our helmets to our lips we drank deeply. Hardly had this been done when we were moved into a more remote corner of the compound for the night, and it was a cold one.

 

Everyone huddled together in the open, without any sort of covering, in an endeavour to keep warm. The outside men, one of them being me, had to keep turning over from back to front as required.

 

 So ended the 27th May as my first day as a prisoner of war.

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