HELLES - That Christmas of 1915 at Helles was a strange affair. Far from home and in the glowering presence of their enemies the festive season could be a little depressing. Gunner John Gunn certainly had reason to be depressed. His young boy had died just nine months before and for him, alone in a hole in the ground far, far from home it was almost unbearable to be apart from his wife Isabella.

"I was thinking of home today; of the sadness of my wife. I made a mistake: I was out at the observation post and I broke down thinking of my little boy and of his Mamma: thinking of the year before having the joy of filling his stockings and presents from Santa Claus, but she would not have the great joy of doing so tonight. May God be with her and console her with great and happy thoughts that he is in supreme happiness in Heaven amongst the Angels. Saturday: another day of sad thoughts although it is Christmas Day. It is nine months to the day since our darling went to heaven, may god be with his Mamma and send his spirit to strengthen her. I wrote a note to my wife." (Gunner John Gunn, 14 Siege Battery, Royal Garrison Artillery)

............................................................................................................................................................................................................................

Lieutenant Norman King-Wilson was in a strange mood that day.

"Christmas Day in the trenches! A fitting title for an ode by Dante! Morning found us wet and cold, without a fire to warm us, without change of clothing or hot food or drink: a Christmas without home, friends or cheer. Somehow the thought was so melancholy, while the fact in itself was so small. Why should the 25th of December be any harder than any other day spent under the same circumstances? The Padre and the men looked so disheartened and sad that I could not resist the temptation to laugh - there was a sardonic humour in it all." (Lieutenant Norman King-Wilson, 88th Field Ambulance, RAMC)

As on the Western Front, there was no attempt, no thought of a Christmas Armistice in 1915. The war had become a serious business with no room for such sentimentalities. 

............................................................................................................................................................................................................................

On Christmas Day war went on. Private Bert Lee, 1/7^th Mancester Regiment, was posted to Gallipoli in August 1915, invalided to Lemnos with dysentery in October, and returned to Helles. Bert was killed, believed shot by a Turkish sniper, on 25 December 1915 alongside Private Leonard Hancock, a talented footballer. Bert and Len became the last two casualties in this battalion, which was evacuated three days later. 

A few days earlier, on 15 December, Bert had written to his mother:

December 15th 1915

Mr Dear Mother,

I really hardly know how to start this letter with all the thanks I have to try and convey to you all for your goodness to me. Do you know Mother dear I have in the last week had letters from you, Isabel, Mary, Nell, Harry, Sid and Stan. Jack’s letter you say is on its way so I think I have been very fortunate indeed. I have sent a pc to each of the married ones (as Sid like the thoughtful lad he is sent me a bundle of blank pc’s and has a stock in - will you ask him to send me a bundle each fortnight?) thanking them for their jolly newsy letters - but I want to thank each one of you once more for them. In two days I received fifteen letters so my pals remembered me also and I think I am a Jolly Lucky chap not to mention the three parcels out of the five you sent and one to hand from Harry for which please thank him once more. Sid has also sent one and Nell tells me she has sent me a mackintosh cap affair which should be very useful - although Sid has duplicated it I have a good pal I can give it to as an Xmas present and so both will be much appreciated. Another read through your letters to see if I have any remarks to make, but before doing so I must apologise for the scribble as I am in my dug out undergoing a fortnight’s advanced machine gun tuition and my light is made out of a tobacco tin with cloth and oil of bacon fat which is none to reliable and needs constant attention. Candles are obtainable once in a blue moon - I could kick myself for forgetting to ask for them. With the winter in front and all these short days a weekly supply about from hard wax ones would be sufficient and very welcome - good fat ones.

I am very interested to see the socks Harry has made - they sound fine and should be a godsend if we have very bad weather later on, but since I wrote the weather has been like June - lots of sunshine no need even for a cardigan, just tunic shirt and trousers. Sorry Emily had such a disappointment over the pudding but perhaps as you say it is just as well after dysentery, although I have an appetite of a lion at present and can and do eat anything and digest it so that it speaks of my healthy condition.

Very pleased to read old John is having the change but what a long time they intend keeping them on this special course of training. All our boys want is discipline, trench digging, plenty of it with pick and shovel and also with their entrenching tools by day and night, and to shoot. That’s all for the present warfare.  

Very many thanks Isabel dear for all the trouble you have taken with the parcels which came to hand beautifully packed and in good condition. The cigarettes with not being in tins were a bit damp but nothing to make a song about - this is no fault of yours but will you send cigs in tins in future if possible? They were a treat after Woodbines and such brands as we have issued each week. I enclose a list of the goods received all of which are most welcome. I received the parcels in my little temporary dug out which is ‘IT’, absolutely just as comfy as possible and have it all to myself. It is at the Machine Gun School on the side of the Ravine (more I cannot say). I came down here for a fortnight's advanced machine gun tuition last Friday. Other parcels arrived on Sunday and yesterday much to my joy. Only three others out of our coy and they like myself agree that the cake was, and still is, (I am studying economy under trying conditions) very, very good. It is a good job it came through quickly as unless rum brandy etc is put in the cake goes mouldy in transit. This is the army solution. I have seen a lot of cakes ruined through being six weeks in transit, quite mouldy all through. Mine was as fresh as when it left Wilmslow.

The pants and vest I shall not don until later on and hope not then - we did have an issue of these two garments, but they were woven I should imagine as a nice harbour of refuge and nice warm home for Mr Lice, so I did not have some. Others did and they have been busy. Not much use them issuing one set as the chaps cannot caste them off until another issue is forthcoming. The muffler and mitts will be a real comfort later when on night observation, the shirt I changed right away after immersing in the Izal which was most welcome, also treated all my clothes with it, likewise blankets and can (touch wood) say I am clean once again. The cake tin I might add makes a fine wash bowl to replace an old biscuit tin I had cut down for use here. I hope the watch is on its way as I’m without now – I don’t think we can boast more than six at the most in our company – all smashes up, chiefly the dust I expect. Glad to see cocoa is in one of the parcels – pardon my cheek on top of all this generosity but could do with some saccharine. I don’t think I would send any more powdered milk - not quite worth the weight and postage.

Now after all this scribble to tell you of my movements since I wrote you a week ago. The weather has been glorious all the time as I stated. The following day after writing to you (that was last Wednesday) we moved to the second supports and remained there till Friday last when we (the battalion) moved out to one of the ravines where we are for two weeks so that we shall be in the fatigues on Xmas Day and not in our winter quarters as we had hoped - however that cannot be helped. We shall probably have a fairly easy day wherever we are unless Johnny Turk takes it into his head to have a pop at us which would certainly break the monotony. I saw Wilkinson on Thursday night last and you can tell Mrs W he is in the pink of condition – like myself, never better.

I got notice to quit for this school on Friday and managed to get a lift on one of engineers’ wagons. Did my liver good I should imagine. I was one of the first here so my dugout was carefully selected. It is really for two, but I have it on my own and have got it fine. It was all sandbagged round and my two oil sheets and an old blanket I found made a perfect roof. It is 4 ft 6ins at the back and 3ft 6ins at the front. I have my fresh and washing water supply here in gallon jars - the latter is easy here but the former in such bulk takes some doing. Wood supply is good so, as we say out here, ‘I'm landed’ and it is so, as I was never so comfy since I left Crowborough. On my own and all things where I want them and not where the other chap would have flung them. Our hours are up at 7 when we have breakfast - parade 8.50 to 1 - dinner 1 to 2 - parade 2 to 4 then finish. It’s just fine and quite a rest knowing when you have really finished for the day. I look on this as a sort of rest cure as one can take one’s clothes off to turn in and have eleven hours solid sleep and we do it too - at least I do. The mania out here is to be always cooking when the opportunity comes along - tea is always on the go. Up to 9 pm one or more fires will he crackling.

Last Thursday we were near the 8th Manchesters and I was stopped by a pleasant greeting from an officer on coming out of the trench. I did not know him, but he introduced himself to me - he turned out to be another Marshall from Hawthorn Lane. He had only been out a week or so but looked very fit indeed. It seems he has been in the 6^th for two years then got his commission in the 8^th. We had a long chat together and he kindly gave me some Three Castle cigarettes he had brought with him. He seemed a very decent chap and liked what little he had seen little he had seen of the life out here, which was not much of course. I think he comes in between the boy who went home sick from here and the kid who is in the Scotch (sic) Regiment.

I keep a diary as you know, but it contains very little as our daily routine is very much the same and rather monotonous as you can imagine. We have variations at times which I have made notes of, but scarcely worth noting as the life goes.

With all the dearest to you all for the New Year – may it open up brighter for Auntie Bessie

My fondest love to Isabel, Mims, John, Auntie, all at Wheatfield, Cheadle Hulme, Bramhall and to you Mother mine the fondest if possible.

New Year greetings to all relations and pals when you meet them

AM IN THE VERY PINKEST OF CONDITIONS,

Your very affectionate son,

Bert

............................................................................................................................................................................................................................

In Hurst’s With Manchesters In The East (pages 69-70) the author wrote:

Two popular privates, Hancock and Lee, were killed on Christmas Day.

............................................................................................................................................................................................................................

Photo: Private William Herbert Lee, 1/7th Manchester Regiment, 42nd Division, and the original grave of Lee and Hancock who are buried today in Twelve Tree Copse CWGC Cemetery.

SOURCE:
IWM DOCS: J. Gunn, Typescript diary, 24/12/1915-25/12/1915, IWM DOCS: N. King-Wilson, Typescript account, ‘Jottings of a MO’, p.43., Letter from Bert Lee (courtesy of his Robert Lee)