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Second Lieutenant Marcel Andre Simon

Dan Hill’s research, edited by Ellie Grigsby

Marcel Simon has an extraordinary military service story, for such a young boy; perhaps that is why. Our Great War narrative is extensive, controversial, widely contributed to, rich with diversity, sadness, pity, empathy, respect, bravery, love, hatred, excitement, anger, envy, admiration, adventure and sometimes disbelief. This field of history is so popular and often tackled. Now we have access to mind-blowing statistics and percentages that have now been impressively collated and collective remembrance days and grand monuments, it is easy to forget the individual. Simon’s story is unique, but no doubt the heart ache the Simon family felt, was shared by millions, even a tiny piece of that, truly understood today, in the 21st century as his life and story was revived in the year of 2000. Here is his story.

Simon was born in Sidcup, in March 1899, second son of Dr. Alfred Leon Simon, a German born (Saarbrucken) ‘French subject,’ mining engineer, and his wife Kathleen, the daughter of Sir Phillips Fysh, a British born Australian politician and businessman, just over four years after their marriage on December 2nd, 1895. The couple were carried in Hobart, Tasmania – it seems likely the Simon’s lived in Australia before the turn of the century. Simon descended from a mixed ethnicity of parentage, with his older brother Rene being born in Germany, whilst his older sister Babette was born in Tasmania. Despite this triple international birthing of the Simon siblings, we can see the Simon family are settled in Sidcup through the 1901 National Census sharing their home with their two domestic servants. Interestingly, both of these servants (Minnie Voigt and Freida Shoeder) are listed as being born in Germany, but like Simon senior, both are ‘French subjects.’ It is possible that they are from the territory around Alsace and Loraine on the French and German boarder which had changed hands several times in the final decades of the last century. Home life must have been a considerably cosmopolitan one – with a probable strong influence of German and French culture and language. Interestingly, something worth flagging is the note on the 1911 National Consensus which tells us that Simon senior decided to adopt his ‘naturalised British’ status of citizenship the year previous. By 1911, the family are residents in a 12 room-house named ‘Arundel’ in the Park, Sidcup, Kent. Still the family employ two servants but this time they are English born.

Simon attended Merton Court for his primary education before moving on to Royal Naval college, Osborne, from the age of 12. In January of 1914, he joined Westminster and was a pupil in ‘homeboarders’ house until July. On the outbreak of war, then just aged 15, Simon tried to join the Naval cadets, but was rejected, because he was colour blind. It was essential to be able to spot and differentiate between the red and green lights which indicate port and starboard on ships, and so impossible for Simon to ‘come aboard.’ Following this first ‘knock back’ Simon was then deceptive about his age, so he could sign up with the Princess Charlotte of Wales Royal Berkshire Regiment; Simon was commissioned as a 2nd Lieutenant on December 19th, 1916 after his recommendation on September 23rd. He was later attached to the 2nd battalion Oxfordshire and Buckinghamshire light infantry and went out to the western front in mid-late February 1917. It is important to highlight, Simon was holding the rank of 2nd Lieutenant, already commissioned into the officer class at only 17 years of age, seeing overseas service, in charge of men at 18 years old, which meant commanding men much his senior, many of whom were experienced soldiers, in combat. This must have been a daunting concept, especially when partnered with the factor, by law he should not have been there as an underage soldier.

Turning to the battalion war diary of the 1st Royal Berkshire regiment, we can identify the exact date Simon joined his battalion, being the 12th March 1917. At the time of arrival, Marcel’s battalion were in the trenches on the Somme stretch; a harrowing place to first experience the war, especially as the notorious and bloody battle of the Somme has only concluded relatively recently, just four months previous. The bleakness on the battle field as Simon’s first encounter must have been truly shocking.

The month after Simon’s arrival started with sporadic snowstorms in the trenches but was largely spent training and holding newly won ground in the Arras sector. Casualties during this period were ‘light’ but towards the end of the month an active operation was looming. By the 29th we can study the battalion war diary for an account of action that took place on that day. As the battalion (less D company) attacked and captured the Oppy Line, the soldiers on the right flank failed ‘to get on’ and thus the right flank was consequently exposed. At around 05:00am, the enemy commenced to bomb the unprotected right flank and fighting continued until around 10:00am, when ‘owing to lack of bombs and small arms ammunition’ the battalion were ‘forced to give way and withdrew to the jumping off trench via sunken road…’ The enemy shelled their front line throughout the remainder of the day, and the battalion experienced a ubiquitous machine and rifle gun fire. Once it was dark, patrols were sent out and found the Oppy line was still held by the enemy. By 23:00pm the battalion were relieved by the 13th east Yorkshire regiment and returned to the trenches east of Roclincourt whilst fighting through a barrage of gas shells. About 70 prisoners and three machine guns were captured by the battalion during the day and severe casualties were inflicted on the enemy, but this was evidently not enough. One officer was killed, 2 wounded and missing, 4 wounded and of other ranks (OR), 15 killed, 89 wounded, and 47 were declared missing. Out of the 250 who actually attacked, a sufferance of 151 casualties from OR, was a huge blow. The officer who died, was 2nd Lieutenant Marcel Andre Simon. The single reference to the death of Simon: ‘…Killed: 2nd Lt. M.A. Simon’ is all that we know of the circumstance of his death on that day from official recordings. A telegram was sent to Simon’s mother informing her she would never see her son again. From Simon first being shipped overseas in February, within around 2 months, celebrating his 18th birthday in the trenches, he was dead.

The fine details of his death that we must either trust and consider, or remain dubious of, through fear his death was described ‘poetically’ to ease his parents heartache, can be sourced from the letter by the Chaplain seemingly to Simon’s parents to show how this young man met his death.  The chaplain wrote:

“The battalion was sent ‘over the top on April 29th against a very strong German position. They lost heavily. Your boy was struck by a shell very son after leaving the trench and was killed instantaneously. He had no suffering whatever – was struck down in a flash. It is the most merciful way, though for (you) I am afraid it will hardly make your loss easier to bear. These are the cold facts so far as we have learned them. I have told you just what happened, as I know you would wish to be told. But the cold facts are all inadequate to describe how much we miss him or how deeply we feel for you. He as a splendid lad – always cheerful and full of courage, giving his men a fine example, and very popular with them, as with his fellow officers. He had all the qualities of a fine soldier, and his end… all in a moment, in the heat of an attack leading his men. Our thoughts and sympathy are with you, and we shall always remember him with affection and honour.”

A Captain T.E Warner in a tribute to young Simon, wrote to his mother. Warner leaves us with a dose of what he believes to be ‘assuring masculinity’ that Simon did die, a ‘splendid’ death; aiming to protect by numbing the pain through dilution of reality. But Warner only enhances the sorrowfulness of Simon’s death by fabricating what he insists was Simon’s deficiency of one ounce of fear:

“He and I built a dug-out on the common here, and during that time we used to talk of the war and the chances of being killed. Like all the best men, he always said he didn’t fear in the slightest being killed himself but was only worried about those at home. Pease accept my sincere sympathies on what he himself called a splendid death.”

The place where Simon fell in battle, near Oppy Wood was recorded, but his body was not recovered.  It was not until 1998 when a group of metal detectors found his badges and pips (campaign star/medal for service during 1914-15) and his body was identified by forensic scientists. Simon was then finally laid to rest with full military honours, some eighty years after his death, at Orchard Dump cemetery in Arleux en Gohelle, in 2000. On the day of his burial, relatives of the 18-year-old travelled from all corners of the world to stand by his graveside. The mourners bowed their heads as three rifle volleys were fired over the graveyard in silent salute before a bugler played a haunting last post. As the eerie sounds from the bugle demanded the atmosphere, the noise, evocative and symbolic, that once signalled the end of a day, signalled the end of Simon’s physical life. followed by few moments of silence, and by the sounding of Reveille (the military first call of the day) sound signified Simon’s rebirth into eternal life. His burial came too late for his parents or immediate loved ones to know he was found. 

Second Lieutenant Marcel Andre Simon was born: 1899, killed: 1917, buried: 2000.