Description of Gheluvelt Chateau, October 1914

Recollection of Chaplain Major Edmund Kennedy:

From the neighbourhood of Zandvoorde my unit was hurriedly moved to
Gheluvelt, which was then threatened by a German force approaching from
the direction of Bercelaire.

Here the whole population was in a state of indescribable anxiety and
fear, which it was impossible to remove, for the shells were more
convincing than any arguments we could bring to bear.

Our Head-quarters were established at a Xaverian Brotherhood; the
superior of which--a dear old gentleman--did his utmost to ensure our
comfort. It was weary work hanging about all day awaiting results.
Towards evening I thought it wise to get a sleep, and so turned in about
five o'clock. During these days of constant anxiety, owing to the
proximity of the enemy, we seldom or never removed our clothes,--I had
not had mine off for over a week at that time--thus we were ready for
any emergency, at any time.

From the village of Gheluvelt we moved on a mile nearer to Ypres, where
we billeted in the Chateau de Gheluvelt, from which the owner (Monsieur
Peerebone) and his family had evidently departed in great haste. Finely
situated in a well wooded park, the house was most splendidly equipped
in every respect. The pictures, statuary and furniture were in keeping
with the outward appearance of the place. It was interesting to notice
the different manner of dealing with other people's property in vogue
with the British, in contrast with the German method; so rigid was our
O.C. that not even a vegetable was allowed to be taken from the
well-stocked walled garden, close by the mansion; a sentry being placed
to prevent any hungry 'Tommy' gratifying his desire in that quarter.

Towards evening a general engagement took place, and there was very
heavy shelling. Several shells struck the house, but none of us were
injured. On the following morning I was called to an advanced outpost of
the Scots Guards, to bury Sergeant Wilson, of Lord Esme Gordon's
Company. On reaching the line I found the Battalion about to advance
into action in extended order, and the man had been hurriedly buried. On
my way back I joined Captain Hamilton Wedderburn, Adjutant, who had been
ordered to the rear suffering from appendicitis. I had met this
officer's father, Colonel Hamilton, who resided in my neighbourhood at
home.

During the night several wounded men came in, and the large salon
presented a weird appearance as the doctors attended the suffering men.
No cooking was allowed, and all windows were carefully curtained, in
order not to draw the fire of the enemy, who were in very unpleasant
proximity to the house. I well remember next morning, because the
Germans had got the range to a nicety, and the otherwise enjoyable place
was rendered unbearable by the crash of shells. So unhealthy grew the
position, that the transport was moved a mile away; but we who composed
the tent section remained to deal with any men who were brought in. It
is astonishing how quickly one grows accustomed to 'fire,' and a very
short experience enabled us to go about our work, under risky
circumstances, in the most ordinary manner.

The nights at this time were very dark, and at several points we could
see burning farm homesteads and villages, which to the thoughtful mind
denoted the awful destruction and suffering envolved by the ghastly
outrage upon humanity, being perpetrated by the enemy.

We left the chateau very suddenly, owing to heavy shelling. Some of our
men were hit, and two of our 'mess' had horses killed under them, but
otherwise we managed to get clear from a decidedly dangerous position.
That night it was pitch dark, and we halted on the roadside, some two or
three miles west of Gheluvelt. It was pouring with rain as we ate our
meal of cold rations; we could not even enjoy a comforting smoke, as the
lighting of a match would have been certain to draw the fire of our
vigilant foe. Mr. Jaffray and I both agreed that a night's lodging in a
damp ditch was hardly consonant with our wishes, and therefore we set
out for the hamlet of Halte, where the railway crosses the road, in
hopes that we might find cover of some sort.

Leading our horses very cautiously along the road, for sentinels were
posted in every direction, and at such 'nervy' times men frequently fire
before they challenge, we made our way to a small estaminet which we
found crammed with French soldiers. I pleaded hard for even a chair, but
the proprietor assured me of the impossibility of offering even this
very slender hospitality. I was fortunate to meet MacKenzie, the
Transport officer of the Scots Guards, who introduced me to a French
officer, who in turn interested the landlady's daughter in our forlorn
condition. This kind angel of mercy informed me that her married sister
lived at a farm near by, and she thought that there was a bedroom that
Mr. Jaffray and I might make use of. Accordingly, holding my reins in
one hand and my fair guide's hand in the other, I was led through pitch
darkness for some distance, and presently found myself in a huge Belgian
farm kitchen, crammed with French soldiers and smelling horribly of
garlic. Yes! the farmer could let us have his bedroom for the night, at
a small remuneration, as he and his wife had decided to stay up;
accordingly, we were shown into an exceedingly small room, some eight
feet square, in which was a bed the covering of which made one shudder
to look at; but any port in a storm; and we accordingly doubled up the
best way we could on a bed some two feet too short for us. As we vainly
tried to fall asleep, my batman suddenly turned up,--how he found our
quarters will always be a mystery to me--with the news that the column
had moved off to some place which he could not pronounce. I showed him
my map and asked him if he recognized any name in the locality, but
finding that he was as much at sea as to the destination of the unit as
I was, I determined that it was useless to attempt to explore that part
of Belgium in the darkness of a soaking night; so stowing my servant
away in the corner of the kitchen, we did our best to get a few hours'
sleep. In the first grey of the dawn we arose and ate a little black
bread and very salt bacon, washed down with some execrable coffee, then
leading our horses out of the cowhouse in which we had installed them
the night before, and from which we had had to turn out a couple of very
evil-smelling beasts, we sallied forth to the apparently hopeless task
of discovering the direction in which the column had moved. One's
deductive faculty had to be drawn upon largely. Presently we found
ourselves at Zillebeke, where we were held up by the Northumberland
Hussars, who came by in splendid order on their way to entering action.
Standing by my side was a Staff officer who had dismounted from his car,
awaiting the passage of the cavalry. I explained to him our difficulty,
and he said that he rather thought our unit was with the 10th Hussars
at Zandvoorde, some four miles away, and very kindly offered me a lift.
My horse had contracted a terrible cold and was hardly fit to ride, so
placing him in charge of my batman, I arranged to drive on in the car,
leaving Mr. Jaffray and my servant to follow. The friendly officer
turned out to be Lord Nairne, who was, unfortunately, killed a few days
afterwards.

On reaching the village of Zandvoorde, I encountered a terrible sight.
The enemy was approaching from two sides, and shelling hard. The place
was a slaughter-house; never have I seen so ghastly a sight. The
doctors, with their coats off and shirt sleeves rolled up, looked more
like butchers than medical men, and for an hour or two I found my hands
full in the saddest of all work, dealing with dying men.

As I was eating a hasty breakfast--for in campaigning one learns the
value of sleeping and eating whenever a chance presents itself--the
O.C. came to me saying that some one must get through to Ypres, to stop
the transport that was about to come out, and also to warn the major of
the serious condition of affairs at Zandvoorde. Would I go? Such an
opportunity of doing 'a real bit' only comes now and again, therefore it
was not difficult to decide.

I had a foretaste of what I was presently to pass through, as, sitting
on the doorstep of a cottage, I was changing into riding boots, out of
the heavy Swiss climbing boots that I had been wearing, and which
threatened to be awkward in the stirrups, if by any chance I was thrown,
a not unlikely event under fire, when a shrapnel burst some twenty feet
from me, with an explosion which almost lifted me from the ground. The
door before which I sat, and the front of the cottage, were liberally
studded with bullets and pieces of the casing, but in a most
providential manner I was untouched. Very quickly I completed my change
of boots, and got my kit-bag once more stowed away in a transport wagon.
Strictest orders had been given that no kits were to be removed from the
wagon, and I hope that the O.C., if ever he discovers my delinquency,
will take into consideration the urgency of my desire to fulfil
instructions in the carrying of his orders into Ypres.

For three miles, right over 'Hill 60,' I had the ride of my life. Shells
were bursting in every direction, but my good horse struggled on gamely.
By this time he had come to know the import of the shrieking whistle
which betokens the approach of a shell, but he displayed no more concern
than a momentary quiver as it burst. As for me I could only place myself
in God's hands, and well remember how, as each shell approached, I
repeated that comforting word from Isaiah xxvi. 3, 'Thou wilt keep him
in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on thee, because he trusteth in
thee.' Over and over again I repeated 'because he trusteth in thee.' And
then bang! bang! and once more the danger was past.

The road was crowded with terrified people, literally fleeing for their
lives, and as I got out of the range of fire, I tried to comfort them in
the best way I could.

Reaching Ypres I delivered my message, and then sank down and fell into
a deep sleep for four hours. I suppose it was a kind of reaction from
the nervous strain.

I found Ypres crammed with wounded men, and worked hard there for the
next day or two. Many were the distressing cases that came under my
attention.

It was on October 23 that I received my first batch of letters from
home, and the first opportunity I stole away into a quiet corner and
enjoyed myself to my heart's content.