Gilbert Walter Lyttelton Talbot

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The following extracts from officers of his Battalion and others, written after the fatal day at Hooge, show what this friendship was.

From Col. Heriot-Maitland (Rifle Brigade)

.......Gilbert's strong character and his devotion to his men and to his duty were beautiful. It is some satisfaction to know that he was attacking the enemy at the time, and that it was not the result of a stray bullet in the trenches.

my note (Heriot-Maitland commanded the 7th RB in the UK & France 1914-16)

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From Sir Archibald Hunter (Aldershot Command)

Government House, Farnborough.

4th August, 1915.

.....Your son was loved and trusted in his Battalion and was an honour to it.

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From Major D.H. Ross (Rifle Brigade)

.....Gilbert died leading his men. No one could have done more. All the men in his company were very much attached to him, and when we heard in the middle of the action that he had been hit, several men at once volunteered to go and bring him in, although the enemy's fire was still very heavy. Two lots started, but as the men in each were hit, the attempt had to be given up. To us he is a great loss, as he was always in good spirits and cheery, and had something amusing to say.......

From Captain E.J. Kay-Shuttleworth, (Rifle Brigade)

.... I should like to tell you how last I saw him rushing gallantly forward to the attack: he was about 50 yards to my left and was passing just behind a little knoll, waving his arm and calling to his splendid men to follow him, which they did, in an magnificent attempt to regain what had been lost in the early morning through liquid fire.

His humour, his great fund of good stories, his wide reading and many interests all made him a wonderfully good companion out here.

As you know, we shared a tent last September at Churm, we shared a room at Aldershot later, and we have always been together out here......

I cannot express to you how much I miss him......

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From Sergeant J.L. Chumley (now a commissioned officer)

....Lieutenant Gilbert Talbot was a brave, fearless leader, strict on parade and yet highly respected by all ranks. He and I were the best of friends, and no man in our Battalion will feel his loss more acutely than myself. Had he survived last Friday's assault, I feel sure he would have been proud of the Platoon he spent so much time and patience in training. On his whistle, they advanced through that wood in one straight line, just as they might have been on Aldershot drill ground, although under terrific shell, rifle, and machine gun fire. I am told his servant Nash behaved most bravely: although badly wounded himself, he tried his best to assist his master, and got hit a second time in his attempt.

From L. Merriam, Lieut. (Rifle Brigade)

I cannot tell you what a shock it was to see Gilbert's death in the paper.... There is only one left from C Company. I was with Gilbert from the beginning of the war, and he always kept us so bright and cheerful, both out at the front and while we were training at home

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From Mrs. Kay-Shuttleworth, wife of Captain Kay-Shuttleworth, Rifle Brigade.

Cambridge,

6th August, 1915.

.... Gilbert and Ted (her husband) had shared a tent at Churm and had already been friends before that, so that, before I was married, from hearing so much of him from Ted I felt I knew him quite well even without seeing him. Ted always said that Gilbert being there made all the difference, and I could not fail to see that he realized what a lot they all owed to your son at the beginning, when things were most difficult. By his excellent example he inspired others to be keen. I do not think I ever met anyone more brilliant in conversation, and I shall never forget his talk and fun one wet day at Aldershot......... Gilbert was inimitable, and I feel so grateful to him for his kindness to me. I know everyone loved him. He seemed to me rather special amongst all the others. I cannot rightly tell you how sad I feel that this calamity should have befallen our beautiful Brigade...........I can only sit dazed at the misery of it all.......

[marina]

That was a good letter. I wish we could hear more of his conversation.

Marina

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From Sergeant Shepherd (one of the East Yorkshire Infantry men, who brought in the body on 8 August)

......We are only humble soldiers, but we all deeply sympathize with you in your great loss.

From the position of his body, which was in front of the other unfortunate men of the Rifle Brigade, who gave their lives in battle, clearly shows that he gave his life as a leader, and he must have been a very brave man to have got to the position in which he was........

From Rifleman Dent

......Having known your son over a year, I can honestly say that England has lost a man who would have made his mark in the years to come.............. He was loved by everybody, and we would all forsake an afternoon's sport when we were all in England to hear him at a lecture. When we were at Tilford he often lectured to numbers 9 and 10 Platoons, and after one of these I remember a man of number 10 saying "I wish he was our officer: I could listen to him for hours." The night Sergeant Dawson was killed, he nearly cried, and reproached himself for letting Sergeant Dawson go out on such a dangerous undertaking - but it was necessary: a dead German was on our parados, and the smell was upsetting the men, so you see the body had to be shifted........

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From Rifleman Norton

....I liked him so very much, and so did all the boys in the platoon. He always was a very good speaker, and I could sit and enjoy it for hours. I would have gone anywhere with him, he had such a good head.......

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Gilbert's facility of speech stood him in good stead with his men, and his lectures were keenly followed and well attended, the men often preferring to come to hear him even on a holiday. Other Companies occasionally joined in too. He lectured them on all sorts of subjects - the history and traditions of the Rifle Brigade, straight talks on moral questions, the splendid advance of the Russians in November and December 1914, their tactics, German methods and their strength and weakness, etc

Then, though he was very strict, he knew his men intimately and helped them in troubles of their own, and when any were killed he wrote most fully and sympathetically, with careful descriptions of where they fell, etc., to the parents and wives and so on. He greatly helped the Chaplain of the Brigade in making it easy for him to get in touch with his platoon, and encouraging him to do freely, as did several other officers in his Battalion.

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He took to heart in a very real way his Colonel's words: "Remember you are resposible for 54 lives; not 55 - your own doesn't count."

Then there was the fun: the lightheartedness of young men together, and Gilbert's particular cheeriness and love of good and amusing stories and encouraging spirit when things were depressing. His capacity for seeing the humorous side of a situation now stood both him and his companions in good stead.

[marina]

He does sound a character, and a very charismatic one.

Marina

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One of his fellow officers, writing of some amusing incident which had occurred in the day's work of training in France, says:

Talbot's account of it over a cup of cocoa in Captain Drummond's dug-out at 3 a.m. made us shake with laughter for nearly half an hour.

He began the plan of reading aloud in their rest times, and we have heard from many sources what the fun was and the shouts of laughter from his reading aloud of "Some Experiences of an Irish R.M."

"Philippa's First Fox-hunt" was a special success. Captain Hardy, one of his fellow officers (alas, kiiled at Hooge a few days before Gilbert) sent home for another volume. "I never heard such reading aloud before," he said.

After a rather long and trying delay the whole party was delighted to set out on 19 May 1915, crossing with that wonderful rapidity of organization which put the whole Brigade on to the ship from the train, and vice versa, in seven minutes.

Of Gilbert's two months and a half in France and Flanders the following extracts from his diary, etc. will tell their own tale. The early part was one of considerable enjoyment, with beautiful weather, and the marching across so much of the country between Boulogne and Poperinghe was very pleasant. Gilbert evidently was developing quickly on the practical side, and was a very resourceful, efficient officer, constantly in demand in all kinds of difficulties in camp and otherwise, and bringing in a lot of fun and good cheer with his talk and good stories.

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From Rifleman Nash (Gilbert;s servant, who so faithfully served him to the end) I gained the following impression of his position in his platoon:

Nash gave a strong idea of the high opinion the men of his platoon had of Gilbert - they liked his lectures so much and thought him so clever ("a very learned gentleman") and a born leader, who would have been followed anywhere. He seemed to be constantly consulted by different people. He was very strict with his men, but they liked him the better for that, and they appreciated his high tone, and his expecting the best out of them.

He dwelt on his great care for his men - as to health, comfort, etc. - he always saw to all being as well arranged as was possible for them before he turned in himself, not leaving it to the sergeants till he felt satisfied all was right.

He noticed how much tidier he became out in France - instead of getting at what he wanted by pulling things out anyhow, and leaving letters about, the letters he had were carefully tied together and the things left in order. He was always in excellent spirits, was the life of the party in the crater, and very cheery, and very cool-headed in the trenches under fire. Norbury and he were two of the coolest.

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He became very proud of the platoon, about which Nash had no doubt that it was "the best in the battalion." He was a constant topic of talk. They were sure he would be captain directly. He kept up their spirits that Friday (30 July) wonderfully, and was very calm and confident.

He had, however, his serious times, and talked constantly of home, and of his first hoped-for bit of leave, due about two or three weeks after the Hooge attack. "Is there anything from Farnham, Harrow or London ?" he would ask. "What a treat it will be to get back to the Castle and see them all."

Below are some extracts from Gilbert's diary, which he kept regularly, and took great pains with.

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May 20, '15.

.....The small French village in which we are billeted is about thirty or so miles due west of the place where there's a famous salient in the British line and ten miles due north of Sir J. French's headquarters. Everybody arrived v. done, and it took a little time to find all our billets, get the men in and settled, though all the organization was good, and it was not till a quarter to four that I found myself free to go to bed. I am lucky, being in the house of a miller, with a pleasant tiled bedroom with a capital bed with sheets ! The men are in two barns, both quite near me - quite comfortable, with lots of straw, though one of them has chickens and pigs as very near neighbours: in fact last night a pig made an entry and woke my sergeant by stepping on his face. The French are extremely friendly, and light French beer, coffee and food flows freely, though money is short among the men. Of course billets like this, well away from the firing line, are very different from those close up. Everything seems as usual here, except rather an absence of men. In fact war seems more remote here than it did in England, except for the persistent rumble to the north and east. It's a real rest and refreshment, more like a picnic than anything else. The country is lovely and the weather fine, the crops and wild flowers and all the countryside are lush and luxuriant, and my hostess makes divine omelettes. Everybody is seizing the opportunity to get their clothes washed. Officers eat in an "estaminet" where "Bones" (1) lives, and have so far done well in our own and Government food, and the admirable French beer.

(1) "Bones" is Captain Drummond who was killed on 30 July.

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Gilbert's Company "C" was billeted in the village of Millain on 20-21/5/15

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Whitsunday, 23rd May, 1915.

The feature of this and the following days has been the amazing glorious weather. Not a cloud day or night - full moon all the latter and blazing sun all the former, mercifully just saved by a pleasant breeze. The country doesn't get a bit dry, because of the extraordinarily good canal irrigation. The result is most gorgeous: rich, green country, amazingly fertile, with delicious pasture, and crops far in advance of anything in England......Heaps of the work is done by women in sunbonnets, but even so one wonders how they'll get the crops in. I've seen no young men at all.

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May, 28th, 1915.

We made another fairly early start from our last halting place, and set out on the hot day's march, which was to bring us actually to the firing line. This proved to be a short one, only some seven miles, and we halted at a tiny village some three and a half miles short of the firing line, where we went into "close billets." The weather was hotter, and after our long marching we were glad we had no more.........This farm where I write is the grubbiest I've yet been in. The barn where the men sleep was indescribably foul - filthy straw, old clothes, stale food, odd bits of equipment, etc., etc., etc. - all old and filthy and verminous; besides which were picked up over 2000 cartridges (unused) about the place. This all shows that the discipline of some of the Terrier Battalions who preceeded us is in these ways bad. Most of the men had to bivouac out the first night, and pretty chilly they were, though some still prefer to sleep out in rather ingenious bivouacs made of waterproof sheets. In the end, we got the whole place deecent and a credit to the R.B. - refuse buried, all the old mucky straw got out and burnt and new laid straw laid down. The Colonel came round yesterday and seemed pleased; only half the Company is here under my command, with Shoveller, a fellow subaltern (he came to Farnham twice); the other 2 platoons are with "Bones" (Captain Drummond).

[marina]

Another Andrew, gathering up abandoned equipment!

Marina

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For some reason the book now goes back to the 26th May.

May 26.

The night we arrived, the Battn. was paraded and addressed by Sir Charles Fergusson, who commanded the Corps to which we are being attached. You remember he did so well at the beginning of the war and then came home. He dined at Farnham one night and was most thrilling. His speech was jolly, and gave us news...... Sir Charles made an encouraging and rather inspiring speech, also telling us to be careful of the instructions we're given about the gas and also not to be careless of needless risks in the trenches. So early to bed.

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Monday, 31st May.

We're off to the trenches in an hour. I don't think you need worry about this go, which I think will beelatively pretty quiet. I can't help thinking merely rather excited and curious. Anyhow, here goes.

We started for the trences on a hot evening (May 7th) and had a march of some 3 miles, arriving in the dark. Everybody's nerves were a little on edge as we went, being entirely new to the business. We were accompanied by a nice officer of the Terriers, to whom we were being attached, but who talked in a cool way of it all that was bred partly of a genuine familiarity and partly of a desire to impress us. And it was both interesting and exciting to hear the rifle fire grow louder as we approached and to watch the lights of the flares that both sides send up all night. I must honestly say that before we started, and when we got there I felt surprisingly unfrightened, and much more curious than anything else........ When the men were in the trenches I got off my pack and put it into a dug-out and sought out the subaltern to whose platoon mine was attached. I found him an absolute boy of 18, fresh from school, who'd been out some 3 weeks. His name was Peake. I liked him, and thought him awfully plucky. After all the men were at their posts, he asked me to come with him and visit his "listening post."

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Of course, I said I should like to go, so we went along to the extreme left end of the trench and crawled out on our stomachs into the crater formed by a howitzer shell some 10 to 15 yards out. The worst part was the stink - a stink that soons gets terribly familiar, and which in this case was caused by several unburied Frenchman who were close by and who nobody could get at to bury. The listening Post reported to us that they thought they had seen the figures of 2 Germans working on their parapet. Just after this, the enemy must have smelt a rat of some kind, either having caught sight of the tops of our heads or heard something. But a machine gun opposite and some rifle fire began to let drive; but as we were well down on our faces in the shell crater, the shots went over our heads. We waited till it subsided and then crawled back. I was interested by all this, and excited, though there was nothing in the least unusual in it. Listening Posts are always out and habe to be frequently visited by the subalterns. Usually it's perfectly safe work.......

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It's marvellous when one hears the stories of what men have stuck out here. They said that in the winter, when the mud in the trenches came up to the men's thighs, a party which started to carry rations up the communication trench at 9.30 p.m. failed to reach the fire trenches till 6 a.m., and then with half the stufff lost on the way........

The real break was the unexpected appearance of Neville to luncheon with me - fresh from England - passing through as his Battn. moved north.

....These infernal labour people must buck up with the shells. I saw a Battn. yesterday, 200 strong only, which had been in and out of the same trenches for over 6 months, and for the time being they are really beat, done. It's heartbreaking. And with the ammunition everybody's confident we could bang right through to-morrow. But I don't want you to think we're gloomy. We're not. We're very lively and in good spirits and intend to remain so......

I saw an unfortunate Territorial shot in the head and killed in exactly the same spot as our rifleman of the day before - obviously the same sniper. I hated it intensely, and the utter uselessness of that sort of casualty made one realize that modern warfare is a wicked thing. But I was glad for the future's sake that I didn't feel squeamish a bit.

[marina]

Interested - curious- excited - not squeamish.

Well done, Gilbert.

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June 7.

I forgot to say that I attended an Early Celebration which Green-Wilkinson held for us, which drew a lot of people. It was moving rather, as we were all serious out there in the lovely morning sunshine - our service was in the wood, with the R.C. chaplain saying Mass in the next field.

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June 9th.

.....In the evening I had orders to take 100 men and act as a carrying party to the R.B........ As it happened, this turned out rather an eventful night. I left 8.30 p.m. and got the the R.B. Headquarters at 9........ I reported myself to the Colonel, Ronnie Maclachlan, who I was under at Churm, who was delightful - though very short of sleep.... He said that the Communication trench was quite impassable, owing to the heavy rain which had come after the great heat of the last day or two, and that the carrying party of the evening before had lost some of the stores altogether in the mud. Accordingly we were to go "over-land." It was a little risky, but much quicker. My 100 men were divided into 4 parts, each part to carry for a seperate Coy. and we started. I went with one party myself - got there and back in about an hour. The path was muddy and there were a good many bullets flying about, but we were none the worse and deposited the stores. The one trench I went into was odious, ankle deep in mud, and water sometimes knee deep. I got back to Headquarters about 11, and found that 3 out of my 4 parties were back, but that one was not ! I sent the 3 home and settled down to a long wait. I had no idea where they were or why they were.nt back, and we didn't know where to look for them. I got on the field telephone to various Coys. but with no result. And I walked up and down the path outside the Brewery with Joe Parker, the charming Adjutant, till we both got very weary. At last, as day broke, at quarter to three, they turned up. It appears that what with the deep mud and the heavy stores the men in rear had got cut off, from being unable to keep up, and so got lost. They couldn't find their way in the maze of trenches, and could do nothing but wait till they were found by an officer, who put them straight. I marched them home and sunk into bed at 3.15.......

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June 10th.

.....We found the trenches deep in mud, slush and water. In most places one had to drag one's feet one after another slowly out of the mud. The reason why they were so bad was that these trenches had been held by a really tired out Brigade for some 4 months, reduced by casualties and unable to keep the trenches in proper repair. It gave one some dim idea of what men went through in the winter. Well, we struggled into our trenches, very beat and covered with mud from head to foot, and I took over from Billy Grenfell, who was the subaltern holding the trench before me. This was about 2 o'clock, and we "stood to" at once.