Recruits for the great army

A quiet man from Reading’s Broad Street Church was reported killed in what is now Pakistan.

At the beginning of August news was received that Lance-Corpl Frank Ward had died of wounds on July 30th at the British General Hospital, Rawalpindi, India. Frank Ward was quiet and reserved, but a man of real sterling worth. Before the war he was most regular in his attendance at the Brotherhood and the Sunday evening service, and after leaving home he kept in touch with what was going on. He said that next to his home, he had missed Broad Street Church and his Sundays more than anything else. We deeply regret his loss, and we extend our deepest sympathy to his mother and the other members of his family in their sore trouble.

Recently we have had the great pleasure of welcoming home on short furlough, Lieut. Oswald Francis and Lieut. Leslie Francis, after lengthened periods of service in France. Their many friends were pleased to see them both looking so well. Our thoughts and prayers go with them as they return to their arduous duties.

Among recent recruits from Broad Street for the great army is Mr Gerald S Hampton, only son of our esteemed church treasurer. He has joined the Artist Rifles, OTC. Our best wishes accompany him as he starts out on his new career.

Broad Street Congregational Church magazine, September 1917 (D/N11/12/1/14)

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Going the wrong way: a missionary leaves the war behind

A Reading-sponsored missionary reports on the effects of the war on his journey back to what is now Pakistan, in a letter to members of the congregation at St John’s Church in Watlington Street. It was printed in the parish magazine, and gave Reading people a glimpse of the war from the colonies:

Church Missionary Society,
Lahore.
October 21st. 1914.
My dear Vicar,

Here I am at the Headquarters of the Punjab Mission, tho’ by no means at the end of my travels. At the last moment it was found impossible to run the Language School at Lucknow this year, which is rather a blow. However, Canon Wigram is trying to arrange that the three Punjab recruits shall work together for some months at language study. Probably we shall go to Multan in a fortnight’s time, and until then I am going up to the Batala by way of Amritsar.
I have so much to write about that it will be very difficult to be concise, but I will make an effort.

We had an excellent voyage and never once was it rough, though for two half days I was hors de combat owing to the ship pitching in a horrid swell. We saw signs of war the whole way. On the first night we very nearly ran down a British destroyer near Dover. At Gibraltar we saw the ‘Highflyer’ and the ‘Carmania,’ both covered with renown after their fights in the Atlantic. Off Malta we passed quite close to four troopships from India under the escort of three French cruisers: and at Port Said we saw no less than thirty-five troopships on their way to the Front. We passed them amid tremendous cheering, tho’ everywhere we were greeted with shouts of ‘You’re going the wrong way.’ At every port we touched at we saw captured German and Austrian merchant ships. On reaching Aden we heard that the German cruiser ‘Konigsberg’ had got through the Straits of Bab-el-Mandeb into the Red Sea and was coaling at Jeddah; if this is true we must have passed within a very few miles of her and we may be thankful that our voyage wasn’t terminated on the Arabian coast.

From Aden to Bombay we ran with very few lights on at night and these few were darkened by brown cardboard funnels, so we were more or less invisible after dark. The second night out from Aden all lights were suddenly switched out and the ship’s course was completely altered. We thought that the ‘Emden’ was on our track, and some of the ladies went so far as putting on lifebelts. The Captain had spotted a glare in the distance, which turned out to be only an Arab dhow fishing in an unusual part.

We were a party of seven C.M.S. Missionaries on board, and I fear usually the noisiest table at meal-time; however, I hope noise is a sign that we were enjoying ourselves.

I was quite sorry in many ways when the voyage came to an end and we dropped anchor in Bombay harbour at sunrise on October 16th. There were at least a dozen crowded troopships to greet us as we steamed up the bay; and the Tommies didn’t seem to mind standing in the full glare of the sun to watch us pass. …..

Yours affectionately,
Arnold I. Kay.

A second letter provides more details. (more…)