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139648
Lt. John E. Holloway
British Army 2nd Battalion Royal Fusiliers, City of London
from:296 Katharine Road, Forest Gate, East London
(d.7th May 1915)
John 'Jack' Richardson, born in 1893, was the son of the headmaster of Shaftesbury Road Elementary School in Forest Gate,
East London. After the outbreak of WW1 he battled red-tape to be allowed to fight, despite a heart problem.
"The battalions now at Malta are going to France. Were I only there! But for evermore will I pity the unemployed."
He managed to join the newly formed 2nd Batallion of the City of London Fusiliers as a Lieutenant, and embarked for
France on 17th March 1915. "We passed torpedo boats at Portsmouth and minesweepers. Cruisers and one submarine going on
the surface with a long trail of black smoke coming out of the back - it looked uncanny creeping along, like a long, black
water snake."
Here are some excerpts that might be of interest. "My dear girl, I am writing this
on Sunday morning with the British shells passing over our heads, the German snipers occasionally potting at us
and aeroplanes sailing round and being followed by white puffs from the smoke bombs fired by the anti-aircraft guns.
These white puffs look for all the world like pieces of cotton wool. I came into the trenches for four days last night
about 6.30. We marched along a railway line and then a road with just one or two bullets whistling here and there but
with no casualties. We got safely into our breastwork and then followed a continual fusillade from the German trenches
400 yards in front of us, rifles, star bombs, and a search light. The result was nothing as far as we were concerned.
Still, it was a fine experience. I, with a second lieutenant and two men were employed in building a bombproof shelter
with sandbags and boards, corrugated iron etc.. The 2/Lieut.,to whom I am, of course junior, and I went on duty of
inspection of the whole line of the trenches from 1-3 p.m.and got to sleep at 3.30, to be roused at 5.0 this morning by the
“Stand To†when every man has to stand by his arms for an hour. The Germans giving us quite a rifle bombardment as a
“reveilleâ€. They keep this up more or less all day and night. They are just waking up again now.
The rest of the morning we have had nothing in particular to do except fire sometimes at the Germans and keep our
heads below the parapet. The British 4.7 guns have just started sending shells over us on to (one just gone)
the German lines. The last just burst over their trench. The Germans are using a trench mortar now, but not on us,
on the trenches to our right. The whole of the country here is desolate - the farms mere skeletons and the fields
ploughed with earthworks. But, do you know May, I don't feel at all strange - almost exactly as if all the shots
were blank and we were on field manoeuvres. I thought I should feel fearfully funky, but some how I don't.
Besides it's such lovely weather today and the fellows here are jolly decent. I've even begun sketching
the ruined houses etc. I must send you them when I manage to do some worth the transit. We stay here in the trenches
4 days and then have 4 in billets. The latter are quite nice and we live in comparative luxury, although shells come
quite close and knock corners off houses and break windows.( We just rushed into a dugout because an aeroplane coming
over our trench was shelled and we're afraid of the shrapnel pieces - however none came). What strikes me most is
that the natives still stay with their homes and work in the fields even in the zone of fire. In the town the majority
of the shops are open again, but it has a desolate look. My love, I musn't tell you where I am, because my letters
are not read and they trust me not to say anything censorable. But I can say we have Germans in a horseshoe round us
and we are in one of the most advanced trenches of the Allied line. Swank!
My dear, this letter is very incoherent
but I am writing things down as they occur to me. I am too lazy today to compose. Still, I hope you will find it
interesting. And, comrade, do not be more anxious about me than you can help. There is really very little danger here
and I am thoroughly enjoying myself. The business doesn't seem nearly so horrible now I am here. I'm in that frame of
mind which is prepared to take the whole thing as a game, and a good one too. Anyhow I'm glad I'm not funky.
Comrade, please write to me soon and tell me all about yourself and how you are and what is happening. Now I am
here I know nothing about the war!"
"It's now 11.30. The Maxims are going all along the line tonight and they
make a fearful din. Last night was quite exciting. A sergeant and I crawled along in front of the trench to inspect
the barbed wire entanglement - and it was cold - the ground all frosty and sparkling in the moonlight. Fortunately
the enemy were quiet and we got very few shots, though they must have been able to see us quite plainly. Later I took
out half a dozen men to put up some fresh wire and still few shots came our way. Very considerate of the Saxons who
are opposite. During the night we were shouting across to them and they to us! “how do you do,†said they - many of
them speak English; they wanted a game of football on Easter Monday. “Bully beef†was another cry of theirs.
These “conversations†went on for quite an hour and not a shot fired. They woke up today however and plenty of sniping
has gone on, and they at Maxims tonight."
"Yesterday we had a little diversion. Two German and two British aeroplanes
were over us at once and the sky was literally filled with bursting shells - over a hundred were counted at one time.
One of the Germans was hit, but he got back to his own lines. We heard today that another had been brought down in our
“Billets†town itself. The change of pencil in this letter was due to my rushing out to see if a passing biplane
was English or German. If it is an enemy we all fire and drive him off - otherwise he finds our range and shells
come over later. It was British." "But my dear, I've got a splendid sergeant just come back from hospital of the
name of Macleod. He's the son of an Indian judge and as mad as a hare, though awfully useful and full of ideas and energy.
We two went out last night to prospect the German front and we have plans against their snipers and listening post.
Of this, more anon. Unfortunately he is likely to get a commission and I shall lose him."
"Yesterday afternoon I spent
some time sniping from a plate at the Germans and I think I managed to worry them. You see we have square iron plates
put in the parapet with a hole just big enough to put a rifle through and they form jolly good loopholes. After putting
several through the German sniping hole opposite me and splitting the sandbags round about I got a reply - and this was
rather too good. It caught the stock of my rifle and sent the splinters and pieces of earth through my loophole and they
caught my left hand slightly. However, very little damage was done and after getting it dressed by the stretcher bearers, to whom I went, I walked down to the Field dressing station and got it seen to again. I returned to the trench but the Captain insisted on my going down to see the Medical Officer in the evening and so spoiled my plans with Sergeant Macleod of which I told you." "While I was away our artillery gave them five minutes rapid shrapnel fire and our men blazed off rapid rifle fire. The sergeant I spoke about got so excited that he jumped up on top of the parapet to fire at the Germans. Luckily he wasn't hit nor did we have any casualties. Of course it would be my luck not to be there, but I expect we shall repeat the experiment later on." "The night before last I went out with Macleod and a private to look at a wagon standing in front of the German lines, in which we thought there was a sniper. We crawled out about 250 yds. along the side of a ditch - very, very cautiously and lay and watched. But there was no sniper - only German shells came flying overhead, though of course they couldn't do us any harm.
To make sure I then crawled on for 20 yds. or so and just as I got flat on the ground the “Bosches†sent up a flare
which fell quite close to me - of course they saw me and when I turned to go back to the other two, shots began to
come our way, though you know it is very difficult to aim in the dark with any certainty so there wasn't really very
much danger. We all slid into the ditch and then a machine gun opened fire on us, or rather where they thought we were.
We slowly made our way down the ditch, and the mud and water came up over the thighs, and the Germans, thoroughly alarmed,
for they could hear our splashing as we went, sent up flares and rattled off with rifles and machine gun. Half way down
the ditch was a bridge, and here they thought we should have to come out of the ditch and crawl along to pass,
so they set the machine gun on it. Fortunately they were wrong - there was about 2 ft. between the top of the water
and the top of the bridge, so we could just get through and make our way right to our own trench, accompanied with
flares and musketry. So worried were the Germans that they sent up a red flare which is a signal to their own men
an attack is expected! There's quite a “Three Musketeers†touch about that, isn't there? But we cost them quite a
lot in ammunition etc. and quite annoyed them. More than this there has been little happening - we had some fifteen
shells over two nights ago, two of which slightly damaged the trench but there was no harm done.
Since we've been up I think there have been two casualties in the whole Battalion. You know we're nearly as safe
as you who cross London streets daily."
"Really my dear, Macleod is a very useful man and I'd rather be out at
night with him than anyone. He is not the sort who would get jumpy and let off his gun at awkward moments or
do things like that."
On Sunday April 25th. 1915 Jack was wounded while reconnoitering at night in front of his
trench with his sergeant. He died of these wounds on Friday May 7th. 1915. He was 22 years old.