Groups and Single Decorations for Gallantry Into Battle - France and Flanders 1914 - War Poet - D.S.O.


The 1st Royal Dragoons having returned to England from South Africa in September 1914, the regiment was embarked for France early in the following month, as part of the 3rd Cavalry Division, IV Corps, B.E.F., and was quickly in action in the first battle of Ypres - fighting in an infantry role near the Menin Road. Of his first experience of combat, Grenfell stated in a letter home:


‘I was pleased with my troop under bad fire. They used the most awful language, talking quite quietly and laughing all the time, even after the men were knocked over within a yard of them. I longed to be able to say that I liked it, after all one has heard about being under fire for the first time. But it is beastly. I pretended to myself for a bit that I liked it, but it was no good. But when one acknowledged that it was beastly, one became all right again and cool ... I adore war. It is like a big picnic without the objectlessness of a picnic. I’ve never been so well or so happy. Nobody grumbles at one for being dirty. I’ve only had my boots off once in the last 10 days, and only washed twice. We are up standing to our rifles at 5 a.m. when doing this infantry work, and saddled up at 4.30 a.m. when with our horses ... ’


In November, as cited above, he won the D.S.O. for a daring reconnaissance behind enemy lines, an incident which was actually prompted by enemy sniping. A fellow officer takes up the story:


‘We were in the trenches on a 48 hours’ turn of duty, and where we were, in a wood less than a hundred yards from the German trenches, we were very much bothered by snipers, who were doing a lot of damage. The day before yesterday Julian crept through the undergrowth right up to one of the German trenches and shot one of them dead through his own loophole. Yesterday he crawled out in the same direction and found the trench evacuated, so he crept on some little way beyond. He put two more Germans in the bag, and then came back with the most useful information that the Germans were advancing. Within half an hour they attacked the line very heavily, and were repulsed with great loss. Both acts were not only extremely plucky, but showed great resource and presence of mind, not to say cunning. I have reported the matter to the Colonel, who will send it on. He is very well and fit and cheery, in spite of many unpleasant conditions. I won’t let him do anything too rash, but so far he has shown that he is quite capable of looking after himself, and more than a match for a whole lot of damned Germans.’


Grenfell’s own account follows:


‘They told me to take a section with me, and I said I would sooner cut my throat and have done with it. So they let me go alone. Off I crawled through sodden clay and trenches, going about a yard a minute, and listening and looking as I thought it was not possible to look and listen. I went out to the right of our lines, where the 10th were, and where the Germans were nearest. I took about thirty minutes to do thirty yards; then I saw the Hun trench, and I waited there a long time, but could see or hear nothing. It was about ten yards from me. Then I heard some Germans talking, and saw one put his head up over some bushes, about ten yards behind the trench. I could not get a shot at him; I was too low down, and of course I could not get up. So I crawled on again very slowly to the parapet of their trench. It was very exciting. I was not sure that there might not have been someone there, or a little further along the trench. I peeped through their loophole and saw nobody in the trench. Then the German behind put his head up again. He was laughing and talking; I saw his teeth glistening against my fore-sight, and I pulled the trigger very slowly. He just grunted and crumpled up. The others got up and whispered to each other. I do not know which were most frightened, them or me. I think there were four or five of them. They could not trace the shot; I was flat behind their parapet and hidden. I just had the nerve not to move a muscle and stay there. My heart was fairly hammering. They did not come forward and I could not see them, as they were behind some bushes and trees, so I crept back inch by inch. I went out again in the afternoon, in front of our bit of the line. About sixty yards off I found their trench again, empty again. I waited there for an hour, but saw nobody. Then I went back, because I did not want to get inside some of their patrols who might have been placed forward. I reported the trench empty.


The next day, just before dawn, I crawled out there again and found it empty again. Then a single German came through the woods towards the trench. I saw him fifty yards off. He was coming along, upright and careless, making a great noise. I heard him before I saw him. I let him get within twenty-five yards, and shot him in the heart. He never made a sound. Nothing for ten minutes, and then there was a noise and talking, and a lot of them came along through the wood behind the trench about forty yards from me. I counted about twenty, and there were more coming. They halted in front, and I picked out the one I thought was the officer, or sergeant. He stood facing the other way, and I had a steady shot at him behind the shoulders. He went down, and that was all I saw. I went back at a sort of galloping crawl to our lines and sent a message to the 10th that the Germans were moving up their way in some numbers. Half an hour afterwards they attacked the 10th and our right in massed formation, advancing slowly to within ten yards of the trenches. We simply mowed them down. It was rather horrible. I was too far to the left. They did not attack our part of the line, but the 10th told me in the evening that they counted 200 dead in a little bit of the line, and the 10th and us only lost ten. They have made quite a ridiculous fuss about me stalking, and getting the message through. I believe they are going to send me up to our General, and all sorts. It was only up to someone to do it, instead of leaving it all to the Germans, and losing two officers a day through snipers. All our men have started it now. It is the popular amusement.’


It was about this time that Grenfell penned a satirical poem taking a gentle swipe at his military seniors, A Prayer for Those on the Staff - an indication of where his poetry may have led but for his early demise, and accordingly ground upon which to defend his reputation versus the harder-hitting poets that followed him.


Returning home on leave in January 1915, the same month in which the award of his D.S.O. was announced, in addition to a mention in despatches, Grenfell had his photograph taken in London, wearing the new riband alongside that of his Coronation Medal 1902, the latter awarded for his services as a Page.


Mortally wounded


Rejoining regiment after leave, but having visited his sister Monica at work as a Red Cross nurse at Wimereux en route, Grenfell moved up towards the front line, near Poperinghe, in late April. In his diary entry on the 29th, he wrote:


‘Moved off 8 a.m. towards Pop. Brigade rested in field. Rested all day and got back to our farm at 7.30 p.m. Pork chops for dinner. Wonderful sunny lazy days - but longing to be up and doing something. Slept out. Wrote poem - Into Battle.’


And he sent the poem to his mother, telling her to forward it to The Times if she wished - little knowing that it would eventually appear in print the day his death was announced in the following month:


his


The naked earth is warm with spring, And with green grass and bursting trees Leans to the sun's gaze glorying, And quivers in the sunny breeze;


And Life is Colour and Warmth and Light, And a striving evermore for these; And he is dead who will not fight; And who dies fighting has increase.


The fighting man shall from the sun Take warmth, and life from the glowing earth; Speed with the light-foot winds to run, And with the trees to newer birth; And find, when fighting shall be done, Great rest and fullness after death.


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