Raymond Charles Geddis WESTON – WW1 NZ Army No. 34463
From army records, official reports, & his letters home, typed up by his family & bound into two leather-bound volumes, Ray WESTON recalls his army experiences.
Since enlisting in NZ on Aug 22 1916, he held the ranks of Private, L/Corporal, Corporal, & was a Sergeant when travelling to England in Dec 1916 - Feb 1917. On arrival at Sling Camp, their ranks were downgraded. As a L/Corporal, he attended a specialist N.C.O course, & undertook the training of new arrivals. For months he was frustrated at being directed to remain in that position, while his friends & associates were sent to France. The only way to get there was to revert to the ranks at his own request, which he did on 24 April 1917. It was not until 26th Jan 1918 that he was re-appointed L/Corporal & left for France, crossing from Folkestone to Boulogne.
In Vol.II p.175 / 21 April 1918 of his letters home, he gives an in-depth description of events, [ only part of which is recounted here ], his first taste of the front line, & his subsequent wounding.
“After some 6 weeks in France, we were rushed south, & on 26th March we got into fighting order with tin helmets & haversacks, passing through Amiens, then on to a small village behind Albert. We were awakened at 2.30am on a bright moonlight morning, marched about 10 miles before a 6.30am breakfast in a broad field just inside our artillery lines, & learned that Fritz had taken Albert at 4.30am, only an hour after we had started out! By 3.00pm we were behind the village of Mailley-Maillet in the front line.
Our Company [ 16th Waikatos ], was in the first wave of the attack. We started off, of course, in diamond formation, as a precaution against artillery fire, with the rifle section in the lead. As soon as we passed over a ridge, we were right into it, extended out to about 5 pace intervals, & made a run down the gulley in front to a regular pat-pat-pat-pat of machine guns & the high-tone ring of rifle fire. The first chap wounded was a boy from my own section named Stack, whom I sent back to the dressing station with a bullet through the mouth.
After that, the boys began falling pretty fast, as we had to advance down a slope offering full targets to the enemy. Gaining the hollow, we found ourselves in dead ground & had a bit of a spell before going forward again on our hands & knees, & landed safely in an old communication trench, where the skipper immediately set about forming a defensive line. At 7.30pm we went over the top, crawling forward until observed, & then made a rush for the Hun trench. Our skipper went with them & took the trench, with most of the enemy fleeing.
The next day [ 27th March ], our artillery pounded the Huns, & expecting reprisals, we had orders to stand-to all night, while our patrol did good work bringing in the wounded & constructing an extension to the front line.
On 28th March, just after breakfast, the mortars began to play about our area again, killing & wounding several. After lunch I took my spade & dug my dugout deeper to afford more protection, & also made the roof higher to allow headroom when I sat up. Then I settled down to try & work off the previous nights of lost sleep . I had hardly lain down before a fierce strafe began, & a shell landed harmlessly in the trench just in front of me. The next, though, landed fair square on top of my bivvy & buried me completely, so that the only part of my body I could move was my left foot, which I could waggle out in the trench. I cannot say how long I was buried, but it must have been some time, for I was unconscious when unearthed but I had had my wits long enough to know I was gradually suffocating. Our CO Captain Vercoe & the Company Serg-Major Twinane had just gone past & they ran back & saw my foot projecting from the heap into the trench. In Vercoe’s account, he said the earth was stiff clay in large lumps, & reasonably easy to remove by hand. After working for a few minutes they managed to get my head clear & found that I was still breathing though unconscious, so left me on the bank to recover while they went on to look for other men who were missing.
When I came to, I found I was losing blood from a wound on my left arm, & managed to get back to a distant dressing station, leaving all my gear buried. From there I was eventually ticketed back to Blighty, crossing from Calais to Dover, thence to London, Brockenhurst, & Hornchurch Convalescent Hospital.
I finally returned to NZ on the “Briton” landing 23 July 1919, & was discharged on 20th Aug 1919.” AWMM