Seesoldat Erich Bonert - KIA 9th May 1915 - Nieuwpoort

[JWK]

100 years ago today on 9^th May 1915, on a sunny Sunday-afternoon shortly after 14:00 hrs,

Seesoldat Erich Bonert was killed in action during a raid on the French positions at Nieuwpoort/Belgium.

He was the son of Ernst Hugo Bonert and Helene Limbach, and (older?) brother to Paul.

And he was a cousin of Fritz Limbach, amongst whose papers I found this transcript of a letter sent to Erich’s family, detailing the circumstances of his death.

Fritz díd write to his family asking them to write him everything they knew about how Erich died, so perhaps this transcript was made and sent to him, and he duly returned it after reading. His letters do not mention it unfortunately.

From the letter/transcript I *think* I can deduce that Erich was initially buried at Leffinge, which lies about 3-4 Kms south/south-east of Ostend (and had a tram-connection to Ostend in those days).

He now rests in the Kameradengrab at the German cemetery Langemark.

According to Lady Dorothy Feilding in her book “Lady under fire on the Western Front” the French lost 400-500 men on 9th May 1915 “in a German attack, preceded by a preliminary bombardment of Nieuwpoort with 25.000 shells”

http://www.nieuwpoort.be/nieuwpoort/view/nl/nieuwpoort/de_groote_oorlog/publicaties_media/lady_under_fire

The German losses are not known to me at the moment (You can't search on a specific date in volksbund.de. The Verlustliste of 14th July for the Navy covers about 2 tightly typed pages)

Verlustliste of the Kaiserliche Marine (Imperial Navy) of 14^th July 1917

The letter/transcript is written in a difficult version of German (for me at least), and it doesn’t really “flow", but I tried to translate it to the best of my abilities. Furthermore it doesn't seem censorship was applied.

Trenches on the IJser , 25.5.15

Dear family Bonert!

Comrade Keil, who has informed you of the hero’s death of your son Erich, has asked me to reply to your letter of the 21^st, which I am very happy to do as the deceased and I were bound by a very warm companiable friendship since early March, despite our big age-difference (I’m in my forties) .

Then, as the Kompanie moved into the positions before Nieuwpoort for the first time, we were the first to volunteer for the forward listeningpost. Here we got to know eachother, and from then on we were always there when the call came “Volunteers needed”. Even when we were assigned to different platoons we kept up our friendship in Slijpe [a village east of Nieuwpoort], where we readied an old café to be used as livingquarters, together with comrade Keil and three other great people.

Your son and I have then, untill recently, shared the relatively comfortable quarters. Thus we grew closer and spent many a happy time with this small group, went though many dangerous situations and found ourselves cursing in harmony when it all came a little too close. It was both our wish that we would not be outdone by our comrades in the East, and wished ourselves a more “brisk and cheerful war” instead of the boring coldhearted trench war, spoke often about assaults and longed for the day that, even though we understood the gravity of the operation, we would assault, over the partly inundated terrain, without any cover, the positions held by the French elite-troops which were made into a fortress during the last half year.

So the months went by, untill, on the 6^th May in the evening, our Kampanieführer had us fall in, and made the announcement that we were to go to Bruges in the next few days for a period of R&R. We welcomed that news, and looked forward to fill that time with sports and games. There would be gymnastic competitions e.g. Then the manning of our frontline positions was arranged (for the last time for the foreseeable future). Again us 3 volunteered for the forward listeningpost, but on this occasion your son was assigned the second forward post, and we were assigned to the first, both as a result of a misunderstanding as we wanted to patrol the enemy together, and make a daring exploit [a “Husarenstreich”] to steal the barbed wire defences from under the noses of the French listeningposts. That an assault strike was imminent was something we, or our officers, could not have imagined.

On the 8^th May late in the evening we then were informed:

“Tomorrow afternoon at 2 o’clock assault on the enemy outposts,when possible followed by a breakthrough and attack on the main positions.”

The assault was necessary to ascertain the strenght of the enemy positions, but nobody had expected an assault in the broadest of daylight. Even the most brave had to admit this would be a rite of sacrifice [an “Opfergang”], but our artillery would work wonders.

The morning came and we greeted eachother one last time from afar “Heil & Sieg” [“Good luck & Victory” is how I’d translate that] Our heavy artillery efficiently pounded the enemy positions for 4 hours, with short breaks in the firing, but the enemy positions were not weakened when, at 2 o’clock sharp on a sundrenched sundayafternoon in May, our assault lines marched forward. We were overwhelmed by destructive cross fire, and after a few minutes it was clear that a further advance was impossible that day.

The Grim Reaper had struck out wide across the entire line: there the brave lay, mown down in rows, colouring the white spring soil red, the gentle May-wind playing with the coat-tails of the dead. I will never forget that sight.

We did not attack side by side, but from a seriously injured man, whom I brought in during the night, I learnt that Erich sank to the ground silently next to him, and did not move anymore afterwards. The examination of Erich’s wounds (shotwounds in the leg, stomach and heart and the right arm fragmented by a grenade ) supported this. Especially the peaceful expression on his face confirmed that death came quick and painless. He was the foremost of his equals – Ich hatt’ einen Kameraden -

The last thing I could do for him, after comrade Keil had prepared his grave, was to place him on a bier in the church. I then placed a flowering branch of Buddleja on his chest.

Then I marched many kilometers to the south, in the pouring rain, to the new positions.

The cemetery, with the memorial designed by our fallen dear Leutnant Jahns, is, as you rightly assumed, a part of the old civilian cemetery around the church. The church is the only church in the village and it can be reached by tram from Ostend in 20 minutes. The cross on his grave bears your son’s name and the names of the comrades buried with him: Käferlein and Guttenberger.

Your assumption that Erich lived with a shoemaker in Leffinghe is untrue. From the start he lived in the soldiers’ accomodation in an unoccupied villa. The first 4 weeks we shared these billets, untill I was moved to civilian billets. As you know the village of Slijpe was deserted by its inhabitants.

The deceased did not keep a diary, and any notes, which will all have been about correspondence, you will have received by now together with his personal effects.

Your heartfelt desire to learn more through a conversation in person I can fully understand. When I am granted home-leave I will be more than happy to meet with you.

With my highest regards I greet you, deeply moved

(was signed) Alfred Hoehne

[roel22]

Thanks for the translation! I think the Bonert-family must have been very grateful for receiving such a personal and warm letter from a close comrade.

Roel

[themonsstar]

Thank you for posting this letter which gives us an incite in to a battle for the other side of the wire.

[Martin Feledziak]

The gentle May-wind playing with the coat-tails of the dead.

[Ken S.]

Thank you for sharing.