Today was the day that Greg was “placed on [the] unemployed list”. Demobbed from the Royal Air Force, he was free to go home.
The newly demobilised Greg would no doubt have travelled by train back to Holyhead on a travel warrant. There, an enthusiastic welcome from his family would have been waiting.
Holyhead Station approach, much as it would have looked in 1919. The central hotel and administration building was flanked by two train sheds. The ferries for Ireland docked immediately behind. Image Credit: Old UK Photos (click here to see a larger version on their site).
Greg would soon return to life as an undergraduate student. He had had a wait of around eleven weeks since Armistice Day, which he probably found tedious. But apart from that modest inconvenience, his repatriation, demobilisation and reintegration into civilian life were not apparently problematical. But that wasn’t the case for everyone. Michael Seymour reflects here on the issues arising from this huge logistical exercise:
And what of Greg’s squadron? Was that too demobbed and placed on the unemployed list? As it turned out, the squadron was disbanded a few months later, on 26 June 1919. Disbandment was at Netheravon in Wiltshire, just 15 miles from Yatesbury, where Greg began his flying training on 14 March 1918.
The badge of 42 Squadron RAF (St Edward’s crown version). Used under Crown copyright licence.
42 Squadron had later incarnations before, during and after the Second World War. Its aircraft were, in turn: Vickers Vildebeests, Bristol Beauforts, Blenheims, Hurricanes, Thunderbolts and Bristol Beaufighters. Its final role was in marine reconnaissance. For this task, it flew first Avro Shackletons and then Nimrod MR.2s. Its last mission was in 2010. The squadron therefore began and ended with reconnaissance roles. It was formally disbanded on 26 May 2011. See https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/No._42_Squadron_RAF.
The Perseus Connection
42 Squadron’s association with the Vickers Vildebeest – its third aircraft after the BE2s and RE8s of the First World War – lives on. When Royal Air Force heraldry was rationalised in the 1930s, the badge that was awarded to 42 Squadron was blazoned:
In front of a Terrestrial Globe Azure/Argent the figure of Perseus Or.
The reference to Perseus served two functions. First, Perseus was of course the famous slayer of the Gorgon – an allusion that any fighting unit would wish to have. So Perseus embodied the squadron’s motto fortiter in re[1] (resolute in deed). And, yes, the similarity of sound between fortiter and forty two is quite deliberate. This ‘canting’ motto is an example of what passes for a joke in heraldry.
Secondly, and more specifically pertinent for the squadron, the Vickers Vildebeest was re-engined with the Bristol Perseus engine, which the squadron was the first to use.
And the globe behind Perseus is a reference to the international deployment of the squadron.
[1] The motto comes from the writings of Claudio Acquaviva (1543-1615), the fifth Superior General of the Jesuits. He advocating being fortiter in re, suaviter in modo (resolute in deed, but gentle in manner).
No doubt to his great relief, Greg was today at last on his way home – back to Blighty. Or, as his war record has it, this was the day that he transferred from the British Expeditionary Force to the Home Establishment:
Back to the Channel
He would have made his way to one of the channel ports, most likely Boulogne, probably by train. Perhaps his route took him via Douai, Arras, St Pol-sur-Ternoise, Montreuil and Étaples, in a partial retracing of his journey from Boulogne to Aire-sur-la-Lys back in early June 1918:
Crossing the English Channel he took these two photographs, probably with his Vest Pocket Kodak camera:
“Homeward Bound” – taken by Greg crossing the English Channel. Click for larger image. Credit: Greg’s War CollectionCrossing the Channel – taken by Greg on his way home. Click for larger image. Credit: Greg’s War Collection
Judging by the way the light falls in the contre jour photograph entitled ‘Homeward Bound’, it looks as if it the ship was actually outward bound! Most likely it was passing Greg’s ship on its way to pick up more homecoming troops. And the men in the other photo could be looking into the light at the passing ship.
Greg was probably sailing on the NNW course from Boulogne to Folkestone. This was the reverse of the crossing that he made on the SS Arundel on his way out to France at the end of May 1918:
He had crossed the Channel since then, though: he went home on leave on 18 September 1918 and he had probably set off back to the Western Front on 1 October 1918. But this time, it was back to Blighty for good.
Back to Blighty
Despite its misleading similarity to the word ‘blight’, Blighty was an affectionate slang term for Britain or England. Google says that it was first used by soldiers in the Indian army, and gives its etymology as follows:
Anglo-Indian alteration of Urdu bilāyatī, wilāyatī ‘foreign, European’, from Arabic wilāyat, wilāya ‘dominion, district’.
Google’s Ngram viewer shows that the word rapidly gained currency in about 1910, but its usage fell markedly in the mid-1920s. It has enjoyed a modest revival in recent decades. Perhaps this had something to do with increased writings on the First World War as we approached its centenary. Maybe laced with a certain amount of post-modern irony.
The word ‘Blighty’ features on Laurence East’s Christmas card for 42 Squadron. It stretches on his stylised map from the Cheshire plain almost to the Thames estuary, as shown in the post for Christmas Day:
After only a couple of weeks at Aulnoy-lez-Valenciennes, 42 Squadron RAF is on the move once more – to nearby Saultain Aerodrome. Greg and Lt Scarterfield take RE8 2924 to the squadron’s new home.
Log Book
Date: Dec 11thMachine Type: RE8
RE8: 2924
Observer: Scarterfield
Time: 05 min
Height: 500
Course/Remarks: Travelling to Saultain
Squadron Record Book
Squadron Record Book (SRB) entry. Click for larger image.
Type and Number: R.E.8.2517*
Pilot and Observer: P. Lt Gregory. O. Lt Scarterfield
Duty: Travelling Flight
Hour of Start: 1135
Hour of Return: 1145
Remarks: Travelling flight to new aerodrome.
*There is a discrepancy in the aircraft serial number between Greg’s log book and the SRB. Probably the log book is correct. As will be seen, the log book records that Greg came back to Aulnoy in a couple of days to ferry 2517 to Saultain. Whereas the SRB has him flying 2517 on both occasions, which would be as pointless as it is unlikely.
42 Squadron Moves to Saultain Aerodrome
This was the shortest move that the squadron made while it was on the Western Front in 1918: a trip ENE of all of 2.3 miles (3.7 km)! Aulnoy is about 2 miles (3 km) south of Valenciennes, and Saultain is about 2½ miles (4 km) southeast .
Aulnoy to Saultain on a modern map (courtesy Google). Click map for a larger image, or click here to go to Google maps.
Saultain, like Aulnoy, is east of the River Scheldt (Escaut), but still in France. These days they are both satellite settlements for Valenciennes. The residents of Saultain can boast that a couple of fields of farmland separate them from the urban continuum – although those fields are bisected by the A2 autoroute.
Today was the day the fighting stopped. It was also the day of Greg’s last flight in wartime, a joyride with an intriguing passenger. Was “Norman” Norman Gregory? And the day of his first post-armistice flight: travelling from Ascq to Marquain Aerodrome, over the Belgian border near Tournai. Meanwhile, the King sends his thanks to the Royal Air Force. And we give a quick preview of Michael Seymour’s new ‘Setting the Scene’ article: ‘When the Guns Fell Silent‘.
Log Book
Date: 11.11.18
Time Out: 10.25
Rounds Fired – Lewis: -
Rounds Fired – Vickers: -
Bombs: -
Time on RE8s: 190 hrs 40 mins
RE8: 2517
Observer: Norman
War Flying: 0 hrs 10 mins
Height: 1000
Course/Remarks: Joyride
Date: 11.11.18
Time Out: 2.00
Rounds Fired – Lewis: -
Rounds Fired – Vickers: -
Bombs: -
Time on RE8s: 190 hrs 45 mins
RE8: 2517
Observer: A.M. Rose
War Flying: 0 hrs 05 mins
Height: 100
Course/Remarks: Travelling to Marquain
B Flight Orders
B FLIGHT ORDERS FOR 10.11.1918
2872 0800 Lt Bon Capt Gordon Reconn.
6740 1100 Lt Judd Lt Elliott – do -
4889 1400 Lt Sewell Lt Whittles – do -
2517 Lt Gregory Lt Bett Next job
All officers’ kits to be packed and outside the mess by 8.15.
No breakfast to be served after 0700.
C.E. Gregory, Lt
for O.C. B Flight
So Lt Bon and Capt Gordon had a pre-armistice reconnaissance patrol at 8:00am. And at 11:00am, Lt Judd and Lt Elliott went up to reconnoitre the situation as the armistice came into effect.
Who was ‘Norman’?
Greg’s first flight of the day was a 10 minute joyride with “Norman” as an observer/passenger. It is recorded in his log book but was not mandated in the day’s orders for the flight, which Greg signed. So who was this Norman who went on this brief and unofficial flight, just half an hour before the armistice?
According to Cross & Cockade’s list of first world war officers in 42 Squadron RAF, there was none whose surname was Norman. There was a George Norman Goldie, but he does not seem to have been in B Flight, and Greg has never mentioned him. In any event, this George Norman Goldie does not appear on a list of B Flight officers dating from December 1918. And, all other things being equal, he was more likely to have been known to his familiars as George rather than Norman.
A more intriguing – and certainly more poetic – theory is that “Norman” was Lt Norman Gregory, Greg’s brother.
Norman Gregory
Lt. Norman Gregory RE, an elder brother of Greg, who may have been the ‘Norman’ in today’s joyride. Click for larger image. Credit: Greg’s War Collection.
Norman Gregory was born in 1894 and would have been 24 in November 1918. He was a lieutenant – a proper, two-pip lieutenant, not a second lieutenant – in the Royal Engineers. His available war records are sparse, but we know that he entered the French theatre of war on 21 July 1918. So maybe Norman found himself near Lille and called in to see his baby brother at Ascq. And perhaps in those heady minutes before it all ended, they went up for a quick spin.
If they did, and if their mother knew, she would probably have been horrified. To have three sons in the war – one in each of the three services – was bad enough. But for two of them to go up voluntarily together in one of those dangerous contraptions at the last minute was…well, probably something she didn’t need to be told about until they could laugh about it later.
In fact, they were nowhere near danger, at least danger in the sense of German guns and aeroplanes. Even if they had flown flat out east for five minutes, they would have not have been halfway to the front line before they had to turn back.
A Working Hypothesis
Whether this is the true explanation of who “Norman” was, we will probably never know. But it has a strong draw at least for me, as I rather like the idea of my grandfather taking my great uncle up for a little caper in the air as his last flight before the armistice. And one further, but admittedly tiny, piece of evidence that Norman was someone quite familiar, is that his is the only “observer” on that page of Greg’s log book whose name is written in cursive script rather than block capitals.
Greg’s ‘observers’ in November 1918. ‘Norman’ is the only one in cursive script. Click for larger image.
So my conjecture is that it was Norman Gregory that Greg took for a joyride, and that can stand until better evidence refutes the theory.
The Final Front Lines
Front Lines on 11 November. Click for larger image. Map credit: Map Archive
We used to be able to refer to Greg’s sector confidently as the Lys sector, until his squadron no longer operated along the River Lys. This was as forces advanced east to the the next river – the River Scheldt – and beyond. But whatever the sector was called by 11 November, the ground troops of General Birdwood‘s Fifth Army had moved beyond Ath. In fact they had almost reached Grammont and Soignies, which are closer to Brussels than they are to Lille. And here the line was drawn on Armistice Day.
42 Squadron Moves to Marquain Aerodrome
Greg’s second flight of the day was a travelling flight, as part of the squadron’s move that day. (This was why kit had to be packed up and no late breakfasts were served.) After the guns had stopped, Greg and Air Mechanic Rose flew the 7 miles (11 km) to Marquain Aerodrome, just to the west of Tournai. It took them 5 minutes. At 100 ft, they were practically skimming the hedges. And so it was that Greg and the rest of 42 Squadron ended up in Belgium on Armistice Day.
Ascq to Marquain on a modern map (courtesy Google). Click to go to Google maps.
The King’s Message
Meanwhile, the King sent his thanks to his newly formed, and newly tested, Royal Air Force. This printed copy of his message is at the Royal Air Force Museum, Hendon (behind glass, hence the reflections):
The King’s Message to the RAF. Click for larger image. Photograph of printed copy at the RAF Museum, Hendon.
When the Guns Fell Silent
Michael Seymour has written a new article for today in the ‘Setting the Scene’ series. In it, Michael reflects on the circumstances of the signing of the armistice, and surveys some of the consequences of the new-found peace:
Although this post marks the end of Greg’s wartime activity, it doesn’t – quite – mark the end of the Greg’s War blog. As will become apparent, Greg didn’t go home until the new year. Before then, the squadron made three more moves. And there were new photos to be taken, there were joyrides to be had and crashes to be avoided (sometimes). And of course there was Christmas to be celebrated. So there will be more posts to come, but they won’t be daily, and they will no longer involve the activities that were the core of Greg’s war flying since the beginning of June. No more counter-battery patrols, and no more shoots.
The next entry in Greg’s log book is for 20 November 1918.
It was probably today that Greg started off on his journey back at Holyhead station. He would have travelled from North Wales, through England to France.
An LNWR train stands at Holyhead station prior to departure. Click for larger image. Credit: oldukphotos.com. The LNWR Society identifies (here) the train formation in this photograph as Jubilee class No 1915 ‘Implacable’ heading the royal train in March 1900, on the occasion of Queen Victoria’s last visit to Ireland. So the photo is over 18 years earlier than Greg’s journey, but it gives the general idea – especially as the buildings of Holyhead station looked essentially the same as late as the 1960s!
The return journey would have been essentially retracing the outbound trip on 18 September 1918 – something like:
Train from Holyhead to London Euston
Euston Square to Victoria via London Underground (Circle Line)
Train from London Victoria to Folkestone
Ferry from Folkestone to Boulogne
Train from Boulogne to Aire
Either via Desvres, Lumbres and St Omer,
Or (less likely) along the circuitous route by which he arrived on 2 June 1918 from Berck Plage, via Étaples, Montreuil, Hesdin, St Pol and Chocques, and
Today is the first day of a two week stretch of leave for Greg. He had been granted leave in the UK via Boulogne. Meanwhile, the British front continues eastwards.
Log Book
LEAVE. 18 SEPT - 2 OCT.
Leave in the UK
Greg would almost certainly have gone home to the family in Holyhead, North Wales. The journey would probably have taken him a couple of days, and is likely to have gone something like this:
Tender from Rely to Aire-sur-la-Lys
Train from Aire to Boulogne
Either via St Omer, Lumbres and Desvres (see below)
Or(less likely) back along the circuitous route by which he arrived on 2 June 1918 from Berck Plage, via Chocques, St Pol, Hesdin, Montreuil and Étaples
Ferry from Boulogne to Folkestone
Train from Folkestone to London Victoria
Victoria to Euston Square via London Underground (Circle Line)
Train from London Euston to Holyhead
On the first leg of the journey, the Aire to Boulogne route via St Omer would have been like this:
Greg’s probable route from Aire-sur-la-Lys to Boulogne, shown on a modern map (courtesy Google). Click for a larger image.
And the last leg – London Euston to Holyhead – would have been the easiest, even though the longest. There was a good, fast service from Euston to Holyhead, because it was the route that carried the post to and from Ireland.
From end to end Greg’s route to Holyhead may have been like this. It is remarkable for how little of it is in France. Although the Western Front must have seemed a world away, the line in Lys sector was in reality not far from the French coast…although by September 1918 it was getting further day by day.
A possible route taken by Greg from Aire-sur-la-Lys to Holyhead, on a modern map (courtesy Google). The route between Folkestone and London assumes running via Ashford and Maidstone. Click for larger image.
Back On the Front
In the meantime, looking east from Aire, the British front line had by this morning got well to the east of Laventie and was almost at Armentières:
The British Front on the morning of 18 September 1918. Adapted from a map accompanying General Haig’s despatches on the final British offensive. Click for larger image. Map credit: IWM/TNA/GreatWarDigital.
Next up…
Although Greg isn’t back from leave until 2 October, there will be occasional posts in the interim.
Having started his journey from Berck Plage to Aire-sur-la-Lys yesterday at 8pm, and having got as far as Étaples, Greg continues – slowly – today:
Diary
Sunday June 2nd 1918. Got up in time to catch the 6.30am train, which did not appear till 10.30am. Train left Etaples at 12.30pm – fearfully slow travelling. When tired, we got off and walked alongside.
Long Stop at St Pol[-sur-Ternoise].
About 10pm arrived within sight of the gun flashes.
When passing through Chocques about 2½ miles from the front line there was a strafe on.
Arrived at Aire about 1.30am (about 80 miles in over 13 hours!).
Couldn’t get rooms in Aire, populace having fled; after wandering round about an hour, we slept in a railway truck.
So Greg had his first encounter – if not a particularly close encounter – with the Western Front. This is the somewhat circuitous route that he followed:
Greg’s route from Berck Plage to Aire-sur-la-Lys , shown on a modern map (courtesy Google). Click for a larger, zoomable image (opens in new tab).
An Earlier Battlefield
Two thirds of the way from Étaples to St Pol, Greg passed a few miles south of Azincourt, the scene of the major battle between Henry V’s English and Welsh army and the French forces of Charles VI in 1415. 500 years later, the British (including the English and Welsh) and the French were on the same side…and this time there were now longbowmen.
It was Quicker Before the War…
Greg says that it took him 13 hours to travel the (indirect) 80 miles (130 km) from Étaples. From Berck Plage – only a few miles further – it took a total of 29½ hours! And the irony is that before the war there was a twice-daily direct (albeit cross-country) service from Berck Plage to Aire that took under 7 hours:
Bradshaw’s 1913 timetable for the direct Berck-Aire servicePre-war route from Berck Plage to Aire-sur-la-Lys , shown on a modern map (courtesy Google). Click for a larger, zoomable image (opens in new tab)
A Night in a Railway Truck
The railway station at Aire-sur-la-Lys has now closed, and the tracks have mostly been ripped up. But here is the site of the station and yard in June 2018, showing where Greg probably spent the night in his unorthodox – and probably uncomfortable – accommodation.
Site of Aire-sur-la-Lys railway station and yard, seen in June 2018. Click for larger image. Photo: Andrew Sheard
In Berck Plage, at the HQ of 2 Aeroplane Supply Depot, Greg learnt that he was posted to 42 Squadron, one of the RAF’s ‘corps’ squadrons. That evening, he began his journey to Aire-sur-la-Lys, the railhead for the squadron’s base, but didn’t get very far…
Saturday June 1st. Posted to No 42 Squadron, together with Cooper, Charlesworth & Mesinger.
Left Bercque [sic] at 8 pm by lorry for Rang du Fliers, for train to Aire.
Caught a train as far as Etaples. Stayed the night at the Officers’ Club.
So he travelled about 11 miles (18 km), going north back towards Boulogne:
The first stage of Greg’s journey from Berck Plage to Aire on a modern map (courtesy Google). Click for a larger, zoomable map (opens in new tab)
Today the war gets closer: Greg sails across from Folkestone to Boulogne in France and then travels on to Berck Plage, where ironically he has a rather lazy day. He then is a witness to one of the notorious Étaples hospital bombing raids that resulted in many casualties and major damage.
Friday May 31st. London. Caught the 7.35am from Victoria for Folkestone, arrived about 9.30. Sailed 11.15 on ‘Arundel’ for Boulogne. Arrived about 1pm. Lunch at the Louvre & then by tender to No 2 ASD at Berck Plage. Passed through Étaples, where the hospital had been bombed by Germans. Good bathing at Berck – did nothing all day.
Another raid on Étaples from 10.30 – 12.30pm.
One machine dropped a flare. Machine gun heard firing in the air. Probably one of our machines after the raiders. Furious ‘Archie’ bombardment, with no result.
London to Berck Plage
From the perspective of today’s ~30 minute train journey from St Pancras to the Channel Tunnel portal behind Folkestone, the 1918 travel time of almost two hours from Victoria to Folkestone Harbour seems rather slow. But that’s the way it was, and at Folkestone Greg boarded the SS Arundel for the crossing to Boulogne, the main French port for personnel (Calais was principally used for materiel):
Lunch at The Louvre didn’t involve a quick dash to Paris’ famous gallery, but rather the Grand Hotel du Louvre et Terminus, conveniently situated where the cross-channel ferries dock:
Advert for the Hotel du Louvre, Boulogne, from Bradshaw’s Continental Railway Guide (1913)
The 27 mile (43 km) journey south by tender from Boulogne to Berck Plage would have crossed the River Canche at Étaples (near Le Touquet):
The 27 mile journey from Boulogne to Berck Plage on a modern map, courtesy Google (click for a larger, zoomable map of the area, opens in new tab)
Étaples Hospital Raids
Étaples, an old fishing port that was a haunt of artists before the war, became home to huge British military presence. It was a major depot and training camp for the British Expeditionary Force, as well as the site of a complex of hospitals, air raids on which were the subject not only of Greg’s comment but also much wider controversy.
Wikipedia, citing E. J. King in The Knights of St John in the British Empire, says this:
Among the atrocities of that war, the hospitals there were bombed and machine-gunned from the air several times during May 1918. In one hospital alone, it was reported, ‘One ward received a direct hit and was blown to pieces, six wards were reduced to ruins and three others were severely damaged. Sister Baines, four orderlies and eleven patients were killed outright, whilst two doctors, five sisters and many orderlies and patients were wounded. [E.J.King, The Knights of St John in the British Empire, London 1934, pp.200-1.]’ [https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%89taples]
This view of the Germans deliberately targeting the hospitals is adopted by other commentators, such as the author of the following piece:
The town’s medical prominence did not escape the attention of the German military high command, which duly organised a number of air raids on the town. Four such attacks in May 1918 were launched using incendiary bombs directed against the various hospital sites.
Given that literally hundreds of patients were suffering from fractured femurs many were unable to move to safety during such raids. They were thus assisted by hospital orderlies – who themselves came under machine gun fire from low-flying aircraft pilots watching out for just such activity. [http://www.firstworldwar.com/atoz/etaples.htm]
But some have taken a position that was less critical of the Germans’ intentions:
The Etaples hospitals were destroyed by German air raids which began on 19 May 1918 and continued until 10 August. There were grave doubts as to the wisdom of having sited large military training camps and hospitals so close together but it was generally believed that the enemy’s target was really the railway bridge over the River Canche. This belief was confirmed when a German airman who had been shot down said to his rescuers ‘if you persist in placing hospitals beside railway lines, they will continue to be bombed’. In the first attack of 19 May, in which 10 or 12 German planes took part, more than 300 patients were killed or wounded and incendiary bombs were dropped on the town of Etaples. Further raids occurred on 27 and 31 May, 28, 29 and 31 June, 1, 25 and 31 July, and 10 August. The hospital gardens were dug up for shelters. In the raid of 31 May, the St John Hospital was rendered uninhabitable with serious loss of life. [citations omitted] [Meynell, J R Army Med Corps142 43-47 (1996)]
Back home at the time, however, The Times was having none of it. Possibly referring to the same German airman, if this was the man who was brought down in the Étaples hospital raid of 19 May, the paper dismissed his protestations of a railway target in this article on 24 May 1918:
The Times, 24 May 1918. Click for full article (opens in new tab).
GERMAN SAVAGERY AT ITS WORST
HOSPITALS DELIBERATELY BOMBED
…
The captain of the machine brought down, who was wounded, and is now being cared for in the hospital he bombed, was formerly in the German Diplomatic Service. He tried at first to excuse himself by saying that he saw no Red Cross. When challenged with the fact that he knew that he was attacking hospitals he endeavoured to plead that hospitals should not be placed near railways, or, if they are, that they must take the consequences. Apart from the fact that hospitals must be near railways for the transport of their patients, in this case, as in the others, the raiders were not attacking the railway, but came deliberately to bomb the hospital area, and knew perfectly well what they were doing.
Berck Plage
By the time Greg arrived there on 31 May 1918, Berck Plage was the headquarters of 2 Aeroplane Supply Depot (2 ASD). It was here he had to wait to find out the squadron to which he would be posted. Until then, in what must have been an unsettling but anticipatory afternoon, he could note the good bathing and ‘do nothing all day’.
It can have come as no shock to Greg to be posted overseas by the Air Board. Possibly more surprising was the fact that he was going the following day:
Diary entry
Thursday May 30th. London. Reported to Air Board around 11.30 & received orders for overseas sailing from Folkestone next day. Went to a show in the evening. Stayed at the Grosvenor.
Hotel Cecil
At the time of Greg’s visit, the Air Board [Air Ministry] was housed in the Hotel Cecil at 80 Strand, prior to its move to Adastral House in Kingsway in 1919. The name of the hotel would have caused him a wry smile: he was not at all keen on his given names of Cecil Edward, hence his preference to be known as Greg. The Hotel Cecil was largely demolished when Shell Mex House was built in the 1930s, but the façade was kept and is still there today.
The Strand frontage of Shell Mex House, preserved from the Hotel Cecil, in 2018. Click or tap for larger image. Image Credit: Lizzie Sheard
Hitting the West End…
No doubt like many before him before setting out for war, Greg spent his last evening in Blighty in going to a show. His diary doesn’t record which one, but some recently opened candidates that were then running in the West End were:
Yes, Uncle! by Nat D. Ayer and Clifford Grey at the Prince’s Theatre
The Lilac Domino by Charles Cuvillier and Robert B. Smith at the Empire
Violette by John Ansell and Norman Slee at the Lyric Theatre
Very Good, Eddie by Jerome Kern and Schuyler Greene (Herbert Reynolds) at the Palace
Going Up by Louis Achille Hirsch and Otto Harbach & James Montgomery at the Gaiety
Greg’s mention of staying at “the Grosvenor” was probably a reference to the Officers’ YMCA in Grosvenor Gardens, where he had stayed the previous night. On the whole that seems more likely for a 19-year old 2nd Lieutenant than the Grosvenor House Hotel on Park Lane!
