Lieutenant Gerald Stuart Samuel
Dan Hill’s research, edited by Ellie Grigsby
The very first public record of young Gerald Samuel comes in the form of the National Census of 1901 where we find the Samuel family living in the London borough of Hackney. Here we can ascertain that Gerald’s father Horace Stuart Samuel, is a tea broker’s salesman. Together with his wife Alice, the couple had three children: Gladys (then 3), Gerald (2) and Muriel (1 month). A decade later, there are two notable changes to the Samuel family – firstly with a new addition, son Kenneth (then 7) and the family’s relocation from hackney to Sidcup. It is understood that at this time Gerald was attending Merton Court School for his education. Samuel senior is still in the tea broking industry, that would have brought the family a considerably comfortable life-style, testament to the 11-room property the family were residing in. Just three years prior to the outbreak of the Great War, we can find the family are in the same area, employing two domestic servants. The societal class divide in the Edwardian era was vast, social status meant fare more then, than it does today, and the fluidity of social ranking was almost impermeable. One thing wealth and status could not guarantee at the turn of the 20th century, was health. The 20th century produced a plethora of discoveries and advances that in some ways, the ‘face’ of medicine changed out of all recognition. But, at the very turn of the century, in 1901 in the UK, life expectancy was just 48 years of age for males and 51 for women. It was not until the 1980s had the average life expectancy grown to an additional twenty years. In the first half of the twentieth century emphasis continued to be placed on combatting infection which proved a difficult battle until later discoveries and usage of antibiotics. It was certainly not unusual as the 19th century transitioned and even very early 1900s, to outlive your child. Records show that the Samuel family experienced the loss of a child. Muriel died sometime between her 10th and 20th birthday.
Upon the outbreak of The First World War, Samuel was employed as a bank clerk at the Imperial Ottoman Bank and like many men of his generation, saw the normalcy of pre-war life crumble before them. ‘The soldier’ defined modern masculinity at this time, thus young men were keen to join the armed forces to assume their expected role of protectors. Within days of the outbreak, Samuel had joined the London regiment, known as the ‘artists rifles’ which largely attracted recruits from public schools and universities. By October of 1914, the Artists rifles was deployed to France where an Officer Training Corps (OTC) was established, based at Bailleul (commune in the Nord department in northern France) moving in April 1915 to St. Omer. Just a few days before news year eve, Samuel arrived in France on December 29th as Private Samuel, joining the Artists rifles who had then been stationed in France for little over a month. Frustratingly, the war diary for the 28th London regiment in the early years of the war did not survive and so it is not possible to trace the movements of Gerald and his comrades in the early months of 1915. We do know that the battalion was transformed to an OTC unit in mid-1915 however, used to train prospective officers, Samuel being one himself. Surviving information, in the form of Samuel’s medal index card tells us that Samuel was commissioned as a Second Lieutenant with the East Yorkshire regiment on October 2nd, 1915. It also appears that by Christmas of that year, acting as Second in command, Samuel was then appointed intelligence officer. Using Commonwealth War Graves Commission data we can ascertain that Samuel was attached to the 8th battalion which is vital when seeking to find the relative war diaries that offer a commentary on his movements. Army records tell us that the ‘East Yorks’ arrived in France in September of 1915 and so once Samuel joint his new battalion, he would have been absorbed into a unit in its infancy, which would have largely lacked fighting experience. Serving at that time in the hitherto ‘quiet’ sector known as the Somme, before moving to the Ypres Salient in Belgium in early 1916. Fortunately, we can turn to the battalion war diaries to trace Samuel’s footsteps from 1916.
For the first two months of 1916, we can understand that those months consisted largely of trench rotation mainly in the areas of ‘St. Eloi,’ ‘Reninghelst,’ and ‘Dickebusch’ and completing trench repairs. The relentless work in rebuilding trenches saw the men being twice commended through official letters for their efforts, evidently their work did not go unappreciated by the higher command. On the 18th January however, Samuel would have felt the horror of losing his first comrade. A Lieutenant Hough was killed whilst (the diary appears to say) ‘while sniping on jaw.’ Whether this is a grammatical error and the diarist meant he was shot through the jaw by an enemy sniper, or he was indeed laying low on the ground aiming for enemy targets and then killed, it is unclear. Samuel is mentioned by name in the first month for his efforts with another brother officer to capture one of the enemy for what has been reported as ‘identification’, but this mission was not fruitful.
By March 4th, Samuel’s battalion was situated at ‘Bluff’ and were charged with burying the dead. The diarist is also sure to mention on the March 4th entry that they were subjected to ‘terrible weather’ and so clearing the battlefield under freezing conditions would have carried with it its own kind of array of problems. Burial or ‘battlefield clearing’ was perceived as necessary for maintenance of morale. Burials on active service held great practical importance also for knowing specifically that a man was dead for official records. Secondly, nothing is perhaps more damaging for the living than to see unburied dead about them, especially when a ‘fighting spirit’ and robust mentality was crucial whilst waging war. Battlefield clearance and burial were undoubtedly, and understandably, the most unpopular tasks of trench-life. A Reverend J. Bickersteth described how often he saw soldiers display what he called ‘typical’ post-traumatic symptomatology in the men who carried out this work. This dreadful war work would have been hard-hitting for young Samuel. By the 23rd, Samuel would have experienced his first ‘heavy bombardment’ whilst in the trenches which would have been a frightening realisation to learn how the intensity of artillery fire could swell. A number of casualties were inflicted in two of the battalion’s Coys. By late March the diarist mentions how weak and tired the men are; the main culprit seemingly due to the intermittent shell fire damaging their trenches and the demoralising infliction of tens of casualties. Relief provided by the 31st Canadians on the 8th of April would have been greatly welcomed despite the following day marking the start of a training programme, it was still time away from the trenches.
A short bio of Samuel from a roll of honour claims that he was suffering in April from illness that necessitated a 9-week absence away from the trenches whilst he received treatment from the local base hospital. It states Samuel contracted ‘trench fever,’ more commonly known as the ‘five-day fever’ (rarely exhibiting a continuous course over the 5 days, the incubation period was relatively long, at about two weeks) which shared similarities with the effect of malaria. Samuel was also suffering from blood poisoning at this time. Trench fever was a disease transmitted by body-lice which could prove to be moderately serious. The onset of symptoms that Samuel would have presented, (any or all) are usually sudden, with the victim presenting with high fever, severe headache, pain in the eyes, lumbago (soreness of the muscles of the legs and back) and frequently, hyperesthesia of the shins. The most constant symptom, is pain of the legs. At the point of Samuel’s infection, theories about transmitting the disease were still in debate. First reported among British forces in Flanders during the summer of 1915, among the ranks the condition was not regarded as a great scourge. Indeed it offered men valuable rest time away from the tensions and demands of campaigning, but this somewhat lack of concern was not shared by general HQ, as the disease incapacitated large numbers of men. Modern industrialised warfare relied on strength in numbers thus this severe wastage provided a strong impetus for the medical response. It was not until the end of 1917, when the WO trench fever investigation commission began their investigations, concluding the human lice were the conveyors of the disease.
Battalion war diaries contain a wealth of information, of far greater interest than the army could ever had predicted. They can, at best, provide an unrivalled insight into daily events on the front line and contain details of decisions that were made and the activities that resulted from them. At their worst, they can offer a vague overview where for one entry we may only have ‘usual trench routine’ or ‘nothing to report’ to summarise a day. Sometimes and often, a whole month can be contained within the page and so it can be difficult to grasp an understanding of a soldier’s war-time story for particular or longer periods of time. Other than what has been mentioned, there is not any extraordinary diary entries until we are told that the battalion seem to be preparing for an attack. Abruptly, the diary entry on June 29th states: ‘battalion practice attack.’ The following day an arrival of 25 soldiers comes as support. Essentially these records offer us a geographical location as well as narration of movement each day for Samuel and his battalion informing us that unlike most units involved in the early attacks during the 1916 battle of the Somme, the 8th East Yorks were actually in Belgium until only a few weeks prior to the attack. Records appear to suggest that the decision to engage was ‘last minute.’
Reports of the attack made by the 8th East Yorks’ on July 14th (the second phase of the attack following the disastrous first attempt on July 1st), we can follow Samuel in what would have been his first time ‘over the top.’ Working from the report compiled by the Brigadier General commanding the 8th brigade, of which the 8th East Yorkshire regiment formed one of four battalions under its control, we can gather a commentary on the attack. Once in position, reports began to immediately come in that heavy shells from their own artillery were dropping very short amongst first waves. Reports also were surfacing reporting of communication issues. Acting on the orders the assaulting battalions at (zero hour – the hour to advance) 03:25am they were up and walked in quick time towards their objective, creeping forward 15 yards at a time. Advancing towards the German wire, it was not expected that it would be entirely removed by the batteries employed on wire cutting, but it became at once evident that the German wire was considerably stronger than supposed to be for the assaulting battalions. Of course it forced them to halt at the wire, and it was here they were met with machine gun fire, rifles and grenades inflicting ‘heavy’ casualties. A Lieutenant Colonel Negus with a few of his battalion somehow managed to get through into the German trenches (along with a few others) but due to the costly delay at the wire, the assault was seemingly at its forced end and cover was taken in the numerous shell holes and in the sunken road looking like an abandonment of the operation was underway. However, it soon became evident that on the far left, the wire had been tackled far greater than along the whole front and so orders were sent to Captain Smithard to investigate what prospects there were of getting through there which would in turn ‘clear up’ the situation as the report puts it. But both commanding officers were wounded and so information of a ‘reliable nature’ was not coming back. Eventually word was received, and orders were consequentially sent to 2nd Royal Boots for two companies to attack from that extreme left position and then turn eastwards to bomb the Germans out of their lines from the flank while the Stokes guns, machine guns and Lewis guns, with support of rifle fire, assisted from the front. The attack at once had an effect. The Germans reportedly ‘fought hard at first’ but were gradually ‘driven back to his centre’ and eventually, they surrendered. As German soldiers surfaced with their hands in the air, perhaps some swaying a white rag to announce their surrender they came out cautiously, in their hundreds. 250 prisoners were taken and 8 machine guns. The wire was practically untouched (apart from of the far left) but the men managed to achieve their aim. This military success, came at a huge cost of 48 officers, 1217 men of other ranks. The Brigadier General does not say whether they were casualties or deaths but using the battalion war diary for the 8th East Yorkshire regiment we can see their specific losses calculated at 8 dead officers, 11 wounded and 81 dead, 218 wounded, and 141 missing for the men of other ranks, suffering the total blow of 19 officers and 440 of other ranks. One of those officers who died in battle, was Second Lieutenant Gerald Stuart Samuel. Exasperatingly, the only details we have of the circumstance of his death is that Samuel died of his wounds. Samuel apparently wrote a letter to his parents a day before he died. Who knows what Samuel wrote in that letter, and how it made his parents feel as they anxiously slid their fingers under the envelope seal, pulling out and clutching the same piece of paper their son had not long since held; running their fingers over the ink splodges to trace his thoughts and feel close to their boy. All we do know, is they were the final words his family were ever to have from him. Samuel is buried at the Corbie communal cemetery.