When 14-year old Harry James Bacon won a running race on the steamship
SURREY bound to New Zealand in 1912, he became the proud owner of an inexpensive
pocket watch.
The watch went with him when Harry went into Trentham Camp in October
1915 to train for war, and then onto Egypt, France and the trenches. Harry
carried his watch in his uniform’s left-hand breast pocket, well
secured with a lanyard.
At first Harry was in what he termed “a some-what quiet area”
named Armentierres, eventually moving to the Somme where one of the greatest
battles of the War was being fought.
His company moved into a forward position on 14 September 1916, ready
to make an attack next day.
What follows is taken from a letter Harry wrote to his grand daughter
in 1980:
This attack was to be the first occasion in which tanks were to
be used. On the morning of the 15th at 6am we were to make our advance
from a freshly dug trench. The company of which I was a member were
[sic] to take part in the first wave to go over the top. Just after
6am the Artillarey [sic] brought down a heavy barrage on no man’s
land behind which we were to make our attack.
We had advanced about 100 yds when I got a awful wallop in the
chest which brought me to the ground fearful of the outcome, but to
my surprise in a short space of time I felt that I could go on. So rising
I was able to procede [sic] to where my platoon was laying while the
barrage lifted to an area further on. Whilst digging in one of my comrades
asked me for the time so I undid the button on my pocket and pulled
the lanyard to find there was no watch on the end.
I soon realized that the bullet had been deflected around my chest
causing a flesh wound the bullet coming out under my armpit. During
this time I became conscious of a wetness on my back so I asked my comrade
to investigate, only to find my water bottle (which was attached to
back) was pierced in two places from top to bottom by shrapnel, so you
see it was my lucky day, and the watch had rendered its last service
to me and what a service for on the following day a Doctor who attended
to me said, “If it hadn’t been for that watch you would
never had known you hit the ground”. So the cheap watch died that
I might live
Further events and journeyings after I had received attention by
the Doctor at the first field dressing station.
On the morning of the 16th Sept I was taken on a lorry some miles
away to the small town of Albert where I was taken to a very large hospital
dressing station. Going back in time to the 14th Sept when we were moving
into our position, my best friend and I were placed on communications
patrol. As we got near to the trenches George Matthews (my friend) got
a shrapnel wound in his shoulder and had to be taken away. Much to my
surprise one of the first I met when I arrived in Albert was George.
On the 17th some of us whose wounds were not serious were told
by the commanding officer “That owing to a further attack coming
off and that all space would be required for incoming casualties it
would be desirable that we should be taken to large detail camp at Frucourt
where we would be under daily care of a Doctor. So to Frucourt we went.
On or about the 26th Sept an appeal was made for men who were at
all able could volunteer to rejoin his unit. This appeal was made necessary
owing to heavy casualties and every man possible was needed for a further
advance.
So I put my name down to go and then went to tell George what I
had done. Upon which he said “I f you are going so am I.”
To which I replied “Don’t go because of me.”
“Shut up,” he replied. “If you are going so am
I.”
After we had been issued with fresh equipment we moved of at 8pm
on the long march to the trenches along roads packed with guns and heavy
vehicles. About midnight George and I fell out and found an old dugout
where we slept.
With the coming of morning we found we were only a short distance
from our company, where we received a warm welcome. I might mention
that during the march George had taken my turn in carrying rations as
my equipment was irritating my wound.
That night we moved into the sodden front trenches and waited till
3pm on a Sunday afternoon the 1st Oct. Our orders were to take the first
trench and procede [sic] till we came to a sunken road, but owing to
heavy shelling and machine gun fire our casualties were very heavy,
I being one of the many.
Just before I was wounded I noticed George was not about so I looked
back and I waited till he came up when he told me he had got a shock
as shrapnel had ripped off his ammunition pouches. By a coincidence
the next moment shrapnel ripped off my right hand pouch and some of
it went into my right upper arm. So George and I got down in a large
shell crater when George said to me “You better get back, you’ve
had it.” With that he wished me luck and climbed out of the crater
just as a large shell landed and so ended a great friendship.
I made my way back to our lines and to the field dressing station
where after treatment I was again taken to Albert where I was entrained
to the city of Rouen where I was treated and the following day I boarded
a hospital train for the port of Dieppe where I was put aboard a hospital
ship bound for Dublin (Ireland) when I was taken to a large military
hospital close to a large military barracks in Curragh.
During the three weeks I was in this hospital the soldiery were
called out frequently to procede [sic] to Dublin to quell the riots
which were part of the rebellion, eventually I proceded [sic] to England
where after a few days I was given leave to go to Priddlewell Essex
where my aunt and uncle lived after which I stayed with relatives in
London.
After my leave expired I reported [to] a large NZ convalescent
camp in Wiltshire where I remained for a considerable period when I
was boarded and found unfit for further service, which lead to my being
returned to NZ.
During my stay in Wiltshire I heard that my father was in the military
camp in Sling, Bulford, I got leave to visit him much to my surprise
I found that grandma’s brother and cousin were in the same hut
as my father. My father was eventually badly wounded in the buttock
whilst Herbert lost the lower part of his leg, both of them being returned
to NZ.
Robyn I do hope you will excuse all shortcomings for I do find
so big drawbacks in my writing for my eyesight is pretty poor.
Trusting that you will some interest in the contents,
God Bless,
Grandpa
The plaque on Harry’s grave in Gisborne’s Tareheru Cemetery
shows that 24/1586 Sergeant Harry James Bacon, Otago Regiment, 1st NZEF
also served during World War II and died on 9 June 1981 aged 83 years.
