Second Lieutenant James Pearse Morum
Dan Hill’s research, edited by Ellie Grigsby
Young James was born in Queenstown, of the Cape Colony, South Africa, on March 8th, 1896. He was the first son of William Ernest and Florence Morum, a shipping family from South Africa. In 1901, the family were living in a grand home, residing in a 12-room property in Foots Cray, Kent (it appears the family moved to the UK sometime around 1899). No doubt James enjoyed a luxurious childhood as his father’s occupation afforded a life-style defined by a certain affluence. Just a few short months after James celebrated his 18th birthday, an event that was to shape the world forever erupted across the world stage. No further records, other than the two National Census’ of 1901 and 1911 are available for James’ pre-war life. We can next pick up his story at the start of the Great War. An announcement can be found in the London Gazette relating to Cadets in the Officer Training Corps (OTC) who have recently been commissioned as officers into the British Army. Here, we can see Morum was commissioned into the 6th battalion of the Rife Brigade, dated, December 16th, 1914. Now knowing Morum’s battalion number and regiment, we can follow his unit in their early months of warfare.
Records for the 6th battalion Rifle Brigade show they were a reserve unit, therefore being stationed throughout the war in the UK. In August of 1914, the 6th battalion were at Winchester (a depot/training unit) before moving to sheerness, going on in March of 1916 to Eastchurch where it remained as part of Thames and Medway garrison. The battalion was vital in providing drafts to other units within the regiment, to replenish their ranks after sustaining casualties in battle. Using Morum’s medal index card we can see that whilst he remained with the 6th battalion, he was attached to the 1st battalion of the same regiment for overseas service - commissioned as Second Lieutenant. Morum arrived in France on July 5th, 1915. Situated in the newly occupied Somme region, through analysis of battalion war diaries we can ascertain that Morum spent the next five months experiencing typical trench life. With regular rotation, church going, sports, high command inspections, casualties, death, small scale operations, battalion members’ detachments and shipment overseas to other theatres of war, marches and parades, Morum would have gained invaluable experience in both personal survival in the trenches and in commandeering a battalion of men in the field. The unit that Morum was attached to mainly comprised of pre-war regular soldiers, who had already been engaged in the first Battles of Marne and Aisne (September 1914), then Messines in October, as well as the second Battle of Ypres in April of 1915. The task for a young man with no prior military experience of commanding hardened soldiers would certainly have been a trying one. Morum, part of a unit of men who were becoming slowly conditioned to life on the Somme sector (a quiet stretch of the line in late 1915), Morum would have become acutely aware of the swelling of both man power and materials in the spring of 1916 as preparations for the summer campaign began.
Throughout the month of June, the 1st battalion Rifle Brigade organised themselves as they were one of the chosen ‘first-wave’ assault battalions’ for the anticipated attack. For Morum, who was an officer in ‘I Company,’ he would have spent much time studying the ground he was to lead his men to attack ensuring he and his men were fully versed with their objectives and aim. A unnamed comrade of Morum later wrote to his parents telling them of his impressive efforts: stating he ‘worked especially hard’ before the attack, going out ‘night after night’ digging and walking around ‘on top.’ Morum was extensively preparing for the looming Franco-British offensive on the Somme: a major Allied effort on the Western Front of 1916. The start of a desperate struggle between French and German forces at Verdun in February meant that the British Army would have to assume the main role. The attack was actually postponed due to poor weather conditions; inflicting major frustration for all men involved who had mentally prepared themselves for the commencement of battle on the 29th realised their anguish was to elongate until the 1st July. Surviving records indicate the immensely detailed planning that went into the attack, from strategic position planning and imagining of the order of attack, to ‘special breakfasts’ distributed to each man on the morning of the attack. Morum would have drank a hot cup of cocoa and ate a bacon and potted meat sandwich if his stomach could hold it down on the morning of the attack. Frustratingly, it seems that surviving records for the 1st Rifle Brigade’s movements on July 1st, are scarce in existence. It is most likely they have been lost or it could be linked with the high casualty rate amongst officers when the attack was launched, thus documentation was not possible nor top priority when the situation suddenly and dramatically took a turn for the unexpected worse. To achieve some kind of documentation for this battle however we can turn to the Rifle Brigade Chronicle which the following narrative has been extracted from.
At Zero hour (commencement of battle) the first advance reportedly appeared to go quite well, but, when the first wave was within a few yards of the enemy’s front line, a hail of rifle and machine-gun fire opened on them from the enemy’s front line and form defenses on the ‘Redan Ridge’ and ‘Serre.’ So heavy was this fire, that only a few of the men succeeded in reaching the enemy’s wire. One small party from Morum’s company succeeded in getting into the enemy’s front line but was in turn unable to hold out due to problematic communication with the other flank. The first wave of ‘B Company’ of Morum’s battalion took part of the German front line and bombed its way to the south, where, such strong resistance was met meaning they had failed again to secure precise communication and so ceased to advance establishing a stand-still. This however enabled the supporting ‘C Company’ and some of the King’s Shropshire Light Infantry to enter the enemy’s front line on their left an to capture the second German line on the ‘Serre-Beaumont-Hamel road’ and the third German line. But because the attack had of course failed on the right, they once more failed to fortify their positions due to poor communication, thus failed to establish blocs on either flank. At this point however, (B Company front) penetrated the line fortified with the least ready resistance and drew in some of the second ad third waves from the south (A Company) and some of the 8th Warwickshire from the north. Soon the lines captured became filled with men. This little isolated force was later reinforced by some men of the 10th and 12th brigades and managed to hold their position until around 16:30pm. The battalion bombers reportedly displayed ‘great skill and courage’ at the block on the right flank and it was mainly due to this that the composite force succeeding in maintaining its position for as long as it did. Morum’s battalion’s Lewis gunners were one by one ‘knocked out’ and ‘slowly’ the battalion’s supply of bombs failed and so the Germans began to take advantage of this decline as their range of positions suddenly became exposed and unprotected. By 16:30pm, the Germans had managed to establish themselves in some trenches near the Rifle Brigade’s right block, and due to the dangerous bomb shortage, the German’s experienced no difficulty in dislodging the allied bombers with their superior artillery strength. The situation was quickly descending into chaotic desperation, with men either dying in their current positions or being forced to urgently withdraw to the second enemy line. This was only held for 15 minutes, in the end forcing them backwards again to the German 1st line, and there, a force consisting of the 6th Rifle Brigade, some of the 2nd Seaforth battalion, 1st Somerset Light Infantry, and Warwickshire battalion of the 48th division held out all night until relieved on the morning of the 2nd by the 1st Royal Irish Fusiliers battalion. During that night, the soldiers drove off repeated bombing attacks down the communication trenches from multi-directions. The system of attack was of three-dimensional frontage (three companies) with six platoons in the first wave in line, Lewis-gunners and bombing squads in the second wave, and three platoons in line in the third wave (100 yards between the waves). With the intention to keep the enemy ‘anxious’ and prevent reinforcements being sent to the front south of the ‘Ancre’ as well as to affect the actual penetration of the enemy line. The record states: ‘…The first of these objectives was without doubt accomplished by the tenacity and courage of the troops.’
The losses suffered by the battalion were very severe. 61% of the 700 men of other ranks that attacked were lost, and of the 20-strong officers from the 1st Rifle Brigade, 7 were wounded, 4 wounded believed missing, 7 killed, 1 missing and 1 missing believed dead. Amongst those to fall in action was Second Lieutenant J. P Morum.
In the days following the start of the ‘big push’ on the Western Front, families at home would have held their breath in unison. With trepidation, sweethearts, mothers, fathers and wives, would have peered through their lace curtains with a trembling hand, watching the ‘post-boy’ force the news of death upon families. As he gave over that official death notice, the news lying just beneath an envelope seal ready to destroy a world, families were riddled with fear of that one day; that one day that a letter would have their address stamped on the front. Onlookers would have felt a mixture of sympathy and relief as the boy walked past their house for that day at least. But as the weeks followed (in a time of censorship, compliant media barons and slows in communications, the scale of the disaster took weeks to become apparent at home) he would have returned to crisscross so many areas. The Morum’s nightmare would have been realised as the post-boy came for them. It is believed that the telegram given to the Morum’s actually told them the wrong date of their son’s death stating he died on the 2nd July but by considering material such as the Commonwealth War Graves data, and the London Gazette’s list of the dead for July 1st, as well as Morum’s comrade’s memory, we can state that Morum died on July 1st.
An unnamed comrade of Morum wrote to his parents, telling them their beloved son was ‘killed on the spot by a shell jut before his platoon left our lines…’ It would then appear Morum did not even see the battle he fought so hard to perfect.
Today James is buried in Sucrerie cemetery in Colincamps. James’ grave stone inscription reads:
“I go over with complete trust in God.”