Now I close this old diary down for the next few days, since I may not take it into the line. I will, however, keep a record of how things go and enter it up later. The diary of the Battle of Mametz should be interesting reading …
At this point, Pocket Book 7 ends abruptly.
* * *
Days before this last entry, Charlie had written to Maude, thanking her for sending two Alexandra Roses,v and telling her of the position that the battalion would take in the assault:
France
Monday 26.6.16
My Darling Maudie,
Just one last little note for some days, since after tonight I will have no chance of writing for the best part of a week.
The biggest show of the war is now on, the greatest bombardment the world has ever seen is banging and booming away in the valley and on the hill over yonder. No-one has whispered it before but you’ll know all about it and what we have achieved by the time you receive this. At present we are lying behind the line waiting to go up for the assault … In the assault the battn has the position of honour, the right of the Division and B has been chosen as right of the battn, in the leading line. Lloyd supports me. Worthy has his company in the front line on my left and Bill Bland is in support of him.
I little thought in those far-off days in Morecambe that I should ever rise to have such a trust given to me. The Coy is the envy of the battn, and the battn is of the whole Division. To be the right of the finest Division of the British Army is no small honor, dearest, and I know you will be as proud of it as we are.
For myself, Maudie, I pray [to] God in all humility that I may do my job well, achieve my objectives, hold them and generally carry out our orders correctly and successfully. For the men I have no doubts. They, I know, will be splendid. They are as keen as mustard and fit to a turn …
All the love and devotion of my heart and soul to you, my dear wife and to our darling Baby. Know that I will think of you all the time.
Au revoir, my love,
Your loving hubby
Charlie
P.S. I am wearing one of your Alexandra Roses into action. Worthy is wearing the other. I gave it to him because he liked the idea.
Maude’s anxious reply was dated 30 June. Charlie never saw this letter.
2 Grove Mansions
Wanstead, Essex
My Darling Charlie,
Your letter of the 26th reached me this morning – & my darling darling husband what can I say to you in answer to it? For sometime past I have been dreading such news as you have given me in your letter – somehow I felt that the time was drawing near for the big move – but I have always tried to put it out of my mind & to think that perhaps you might be spared taking part. That your company – the battn & the division would hold such an important position in the assault I never dreamed of – & my darling husband when I think of all the danger you are encountering – at the present time – my heart thumps with fear. My dearest – I am trusting in God & praying – Baby with me – that you will be spared to come through these terrible days of fighting safe & well & return to us my darling man.
I shall not expect a letter from you for at least a week – it was good of you to warn me my Charlie – somehow I feel that God will look after you.
Of your great responsibilities – & the great trust that those higher in command have placed in you – I can’t write about. I feel very proud – & I know that those men who are under your care & orders will do well & that they are safer in your hands than those of any other living man.
You know dear love that in you I have absolute trust – & I am confident you will bring B Company through with honour & as few casualties as is possible. Oh! My darling husband how thankful I am that at this time I can look back on our few years of married life & know that they were perfectly happy & to know that we have always been since we first learnt to love – absolutely all in all to each other. How glad I am that Babs & I sent you our Alexandra Roses – I like to think that you are wearing one dear & that you gave one to Worthy. When I sent the roses Charl dear – I never realized that you would be going into action yet. Well! The time we have all waited for has come – the papers are full of accounts of raids – artillery work etc etc: – but so far no news of a big infantry assault.
My darling darling boy God be with you – I can only pray & shall only wait with what patience I can …
Would it be possible to give my best wishes to your men? If at all poss: try to do so. & tell any who come to or near London to let me know their whereabouts. My whole soul goes out to you my heart’s dearest tonight – in love & trust & longing. God will be good to us – he will keep little Pauline’s Daddy safe. Send me a field postcard if you have not time for more. My own – my love.
Yr wife, Maude
Epilogue
‘My dear one could not have died more honourably or gloriously …’
The Allied artillery began its bombardment of enemy trenches, shortly after Charlie put away his pocket book and pencil on the morning of 1 July, at 06.30 hours. ‘The bewildering tumult seemed to grow more insistent with the growing brilliance of the atmosphere and the intenser blue of the July sky,’ Tawney remembered later. ‘The sound was different, not only in magnitude, but in quality, from anything known to me. It was not a succession of explosions or a continuous roar; I, at least, never heard either a gun or a bursting shell. It was not a noise; it was a symphony. It did not move; it hung over us. It was as though the air were full of a vast and agonized passion, bursting now into groans and sighs, now into shrill screams and pitiful whimpers, shuddering beneath terrible blows, torn by unearthly whips, vibrating with the solemn pulse of enormous wings.’
At 7.15, on Charlie’s part of the line, gas was released by the Allies. At 7.22 the Stokes mortars opened up and at 7.26 smoke canisters were discharged to obscure the assault. With three minutes to go, mines buried underneath the German trenches were detonated. At 7.30 the artillery barrage lifted, and the first wave of officers blew their whistles and led their men up ladders and over the top.
And the supernatural tumult did not pass in this direction or that. It did not begin, intensify, decline, and end. It was poised in the air, a stationary panorama of sound, a condition of the atmosphere, not the creation of man. It seemed that one had only to lift one’s eyes to be appalled by the writhing of the tormented element above one, that a hand raised ever so little above the level of the trench would be sucked away into a whirlpool revolving with cruel and incredible velocity over infinite depths. And this feeling, while it filled one with awe, filled one also with triumphant exultation, the exultation of struggling against a storm in mountains, or watching the irresistible course of a swift and destructive river. Yet at the same time one was intent on practical details, wiping the trench dirt off the bolt of one’s rifle, reminding the men of what each was to do, and when the message went round, ‘five minutes to go’, seeing that all bayonets were fixed. My captain, a brave man and a good officer, came along and borrowed a spare watch off me. It was the last time I saw him.
At 7.30 we went up the ladders, doubled through the gaps in the wire, and lay down, waiting for the line to form up on each side of us. When it was ready we went forward, not doubling, but at a walk. For we had nine hundred yards of rough ground to the trench which was our first objective, and about fifteen hundred to a further trench where we were to wait for orders. There was a bright light in the air, and the tufts of coarse grass were grey with dew.i
As he climbed into enemy view Charlie May was proudly wearing his Alexandra Rose. His loyal batman, Private Arthur Bunting, was following closely behind him as they made their way forward, each struggling across no-man’s land, through sheets of rifle and machine-gun fire with approximately seventy-two pounds in weight of kit and munitions on their backs. Within ten minutes, just as they reached the German lines at Bucket Trench, Charlie was hit by shell fire. The Manchester Regiment official report reads:
The Battn was on the
right of the 91st Bde assaulting line. The Battn was formed up in our own trenches at 7.30 a.m. moved forward to the assault in 4 lines, B and D Coys forming the first 2 lines (B on the right and D on the left) and C and A the second 2 lines (C on the right and A on the left). Each company occupied a 2 platoon frontage. Bombers, Lewis Guns etc. went forward in the positions allotted to them in the various lines. The leading companies reached the 1st objective – line BUCKET TRENCH – DANTZIG ALLEY – with heavy casualties and the supporting companies with the remainder of the leading companies then pushed on towards the final objective (FRITZ TRENCH) but owing to still heavier casualties (principally from M.G. and shell fire) were unable to reach it …
‘I was with Len & all the other boys in the German trenches but when the Captain got hit,’ wrote Private Bunting afterwards to his wife Effie. ‘He had just given me a message to pass down the lines & I wasn’t three yards from him, only I had just turned the corner of the trench, when I heard the shell burst & Captain called to me, I nursed him best I could & tied his limbs together with my puttees, poor fellow, and while I was with him, Dear, I said my prayers over & over again for it looked a thousand to one on us both being blown to pieces & no cover to get under, it was just a case of awaiting your turn next please.’ii
Bunting remained with the body of Charlie May for three hours, under heavy fire, trying to effect rudimentary first-aid by bandaging his legs together, before dragging him back to the British trenches. There, and later in the billet, he gathered his possessions, including Charlie’s wedding ring, his unopened and unposted correspondence, and the pocket books in which these pages were so meticulously written.
In Wanstead, Maude had been nervously waiting to hear any news. Unfortunately Bunting’s letter to her has not survived, but she replied:
Tuesday, July 11th 1916
My Dear Bunting,
With a heart full of sorrow & anguish I write to thank you for your letter & for your words of comfort & most of all for your faithfulness & the loving care that you gave my beloved husband.
I know that you did all that it was humanly possible to do under the sad circumstances. It is a crushing blow – but I am praying for strength to bear it bravely as he would have had me do & for the sake of our little daughter who is as yet too young to realize her great loss. I have had many letters of sympathy & all the details from Colonel Whetham & officers & also from the Doctor – but I am trying to write to you today – because you were with him during his last hours & I turn to you in this time of poignant grief.
I know that my dear one could not have died more honourably or gloriously – he gave his life as you say – for his King & his country – & he would not have had it otherwise. You too will feel a great sense of loss – you have done so much for him – but I want you to know how much he loved his work & all the brave men who it was his fortune to command. In his last letter to me he wrote of you all – & the trust and confidence he had in B Company.
I want you to write to me again as soon as you are able & to tell me just one or two more things that I feel I must know & only you can tell me.
During those three hours that you sat by my husband did he suffer? Was he conscious? Where were his wounds? Did he say any words at all that you could distinguish? Tell me everything – my heart aches to know.
Will you let me know your permanent address – and promise me that when you are next on leave you will wire to me – then I could either meet you in London or visit you in Manchester.
For the sake of my dear husband I want you to promise never to let me lose sight of you – you did all a devoted servant & friend could do for him in his last extremity. ‘He gave his Utmost to the highest’.
In the first great shock of my bereavement my thoughts turned to Captain Murray & to you & I prayed that his wife and yours might be spared the suffering of my stricken heart. God be with you – & comfort all those who are desolated by this terrible war. Believe me ever Bunting.
Yours most thankfully,
Maude May
I ask you not to show this letter to anyone.
Arthur Bunting wrote again to Maude, explaining what belongings he had gathered and how they would be shipped to her. Her reply to him, later in the month, was kind but also beseeching:
I should so much like to visit some of the B Company men if they are near here – but so far I have not been able to find any of them – although I have made many enquiries. I trust you are keeping well. Tell me all you can remember about the dear Captain – you can understand how much I long to hear every detail – even to what he said and I don’t know how I am able to possess myself in patience until I see you when you are home on leave.
About the ring – when you send it – please register it – I should be so distressed if it were lost and I am longing to have it in my possession. It never left my dear one’s finger during his lifetime – from the day I placed it there – and it will ever be one of my greatest treasures.iii
Thank you for seeing to the Captain’s packing – everything has reached me quite in order – the heart-breaking task of unpacking the Valise and touching his clothes etc. seemed to bring home to me more than ever this dreadful calamity. I don’t know how I shall go through life without him – the loving care and devotion he showered upon baby and me was greater than I can ever put into words. Can there be anything in life for me again?
The photographs in the leather case of baby and me and the Captain’s pocket book [his final diary] – was he carrying those with him when he was struck? Was he carrying his haversack? And the cap that came home – was that the one he was wearing at the time?
I shall worry you with all these questions but these details mean so much to me. When I see you I want to hear every detail from you about my beloved – from the time the attack started until the time he passed away. You are to spare me nothing Bunting! Oh! How I long for a talk with you!
The first news of the assault along the whole front had been keenly awaited, and was published in the national press with some optimism of its outcome, but by the end of the first week of July, the horrific number of casualties was beginning to be disclosed at home, and when the names of the dead were learned they were remembered at commemorations, on street corners and in pubs, and their obituaries published in newspapers, factory and office newsletters and parish magazines. The Manchester Guardian published the following, twelve days after the assault:
Captain Charles Campbell May, Manchester Regiment, aged 28 [sic] only son of Captain Charles Edward May, New Zealand Forces, whose death has already been announced, was killed by shell-fire on July 1, after his Company had penetrated into the enemy’s trenches. ‘Though mortally wounded,’ his Colonel writes, ‘He gallantly continued to give orders and encourage his men to the last. Had he lived, I would have recommended him for a DSO.’ Born in Dunedin, New Zealand, he obtained his commission in January, 1916, and was promoted a Captain a month later. Previously he had served six years with King Edward’s Horse, and at the outbreak of war founded and commanded the Legion of Volunteers in Manchester. Captain May was well known in Manchester business quarters,iv and leaves a widow and one little daughter.11
Also in Essex, Lillie, Charlie’s sister, received a letter from her father, Captain Charles Edward May, who was serving with the New Zealand forces in northern France.
Rouen, France
5 July 1916
My dearest Lily …
Our noble Charlie was killed on Saturday last leading his company into action. My heart bleeds with yours my sweetheart. We can be comforted in the knowledge that he died as he lived – honourably. God has his soul in keeping for us. I cannot write much dearest. Leave is stopped – but I think my appeal will be granted so that I can come to you with mother. I have written dear mother – poor soul – suggesting she should come to you so that we can be near Maudie, and in fact all be together for a time. I thought I would wire Fredv as I did not want you to be alone when you heard the sad news.
&nb
sp; With my heartfelt grief I am your fond and affectionate
Dad
P. S. God bless you and give you strength to bear this greatest of blows. Bless you all.
Two days later he wrote a second letter:
My dearest sweet Lily …
I went to the Hospital [in Rouen] yesterday and there found two wounded Officers of dear son’s Regiment. One was too bad for me to see, the other gave way when I told him the sad news. After a time he came round and wished me stay with him. The following is what he said of our dear son. He was a keen and well-loved Officer. When the Regiment was without a Colonel, Charles acted in that capacity, so he must have been well up in his work.
The young fellow’s name is Ryall – a 2nd Lieut.vi He, poor fellow, saw nothing of the attack, as he was hit badly immediately he left cover, and knew nothing until he was brought here. He also said that Charlie would not change places with anybody in that awful battle of Saturday last. Take comfort, therefore dearest in the knowledge that our glorious son took with him that grand and noble character which was his always. I am now going to the Hospital again and hope to see the other poor chap a little better so that he may perhaps give me some account of our dear one. Will continue this on my return.
Bless you dear Lily.
4 p.m. I have just returned from the Hospital and was able to have a chat with Lt Woodhouse,vii another of Charlie’s chums. Both are to be put out of service. Woodhouse was in the same mess as Charlie and he speaks of him with tears in his eyes as an officer they were all proud of, a cheery soul! You will be glad to know that Charles spoke so lovingly of us all so much that he, Woodhouse, quite knew us well dearie. I will do all I can [to] lighten your sorrow. You like all of us are proud of our darling boy. I hope to send a wire at any time saying I am coming home. I have written dear mother and Maudie a similar letter to this …
Dad
* * *
Charlie May is buried alongside several hundred others in the Dantzig Alley British Cemetery,viii just east of Mametz, on the road which leads to Montauban. It is very near to the site of Dantzig Alley trench, captured by the 2nd Queens and 22nd Manchesters on 1 July.
To Fight Alongside Friends Page 21