How Lance Corporal Albert Joynson, Of The 1^st Battalion Northumberland Fusiliers  Won The D.C.M. At Hooge

  The midsummer campaign of 1915in the West was, if we except the German Crown Prince’s offensive movement in the Argonne, confined to small local attacks and counter attacks.  But, though the loss or gain of ground was, in most instances, of trifling importance, these small affairs were frequently characterized by desperate fighting, which afforded not a few opportunities for individual distinction.  Of such a kind was the British attack on the enemy’s position south of Hooge on the morning of June 16^th, in which Lance Corporal Albert Joynson, of the 1^st Northumberland Fusiliers, won the Distinguished Conduct Medal.  The “Fighting Fifth” had marched from Vlamatinghe the previous evening, in the highest spirits, singing all the latest songs as they swung along, and reached our trenches about midnight.  Our artillery preparation was timed to start at 2.15 a.m., but the German artillery forestalled it by a few minutes and gave our men an unpleasantly warm time of it.  However the British shelling was still more effective, and in two hours the enemy’s entanglements had been absolutely blown away.  Then came the order, “Over you go!”  And over the parapet of the assembly trench went our brave fellows, and made a dash for the German first line trenches, which were not fifty yards away.  On the left of the assailants were among the enemy with the bayonet almost before the astonished Huns knew that a charge was being made; but, on the right, where our men had to pass through a little nullah, the attack was held up by the fire of a machine gun hidden in a tree and worked by a man who was chained to the gun, which had been trained so as to sweep the nullah.  Finally, the British artillery blew Hun and gun right out of the tree, but not before they had done a great deal of mischief.

            Lance-corporal Joynson, who was on the right of the attack, was one of the few men to get across while the machine gun was still in action, though he did not come through altogether scathes, as one of its bullets chipped a piece of flesh from his right thumb and carried away part of the stock of his rifle, without, however, damaging the barrel.  Having bandaged up his thumb, Joynson crept round the machine gun traverse into a German first line trench, which the enemy had prudently evacuated.  Here he met an officer looking about for bomb throwers, and went with him on an exploring expedition up communication trenches, where one of the Liverpool Scottish-a Territorial battalion which greatly distinguished itself that day-told them that he and a few of his comrades had captured part of a trench, but that they wanted bombers to drive the Germans out of the rest of it, which was still in their hands.  On being shown where the Germans, Joynson readily undertook to move them on, and proceeded to bomb them s effectively that they retreated in disorder to the extremity if the trench.  The Fusilier pursued them for some distance down the trench, which was strewn with an assortment of cigars, lemons, chocolates and other dainties, and then returned and built a barricade to keep them at a distance, which he did until 2 p.m., when the Germans got reinforcements, and he and his comrades were obliged to retire in their turn.  They then went and lay down in the open behind the next line of trenches, where Joynson was smoking tranquilly, when some of the Royal Irish Rifles came to ask for bomb throwers.  He and another man went and rendered them very effective assistance, and remained in that line of trenches until about midnight, when one of the officers of the R.I.R.s came and asked Joynsonhow many men he had with him.  On being told fourteen, he said these ought to be sufficient to hold the trench until they were relieved by the 1^st Royal Scots Fusiliers in three hours time, and that he therefore intended to withdraw his own men.  Joynson thought this a very risky proceeding, but he said nothing, fearing to dishearten his men, and though very heavily shelled the little band held they’re ground gallantly until dawn, when relief arrived.  Joynson was hit by a piece of shrapnel in the right shoulder, but the wound, happily, was not a serious one.  This intrepid Fusiliers, who was awarded the Distinguished Conduct Medal, “for conspicuous gallantry,” is thirty years of age, and his home is at Bradford, Yorkshire. Extracted from 'Deeds That Thrill The Empire'

Hoe The Rev. Edward Noel Mellish, Temporary Chaplain To The Forces, Won The V.C. At St. Eloi

    On March 14^th-15^th 1915, the village of St. Eloi, which lies along the Ypres-Armentieres road, a little to the north of Wytschaete, was the scene of desperate fighting, when the Germans, after a tremendous artillery preparation, followed by the explosion of mines and a determined infantry attack in great force, succeeded in capturing the greater part of our first line trenches, only to be driven out of them again by dashing counter attack in the early hours of the following morning.  A little more than a year later, on March 27^th 1916, and the two following days, St. Eloi was again the scene of a fierce and sanguinary struggle; but on this occasion it was the British who were the aggressors, and moreover, they succeeded in holding the ground that they had won.  The main burden of the struggle was borne by the 1^st Northumberland Fusiliers-the famous “Fighting Fifth” the 4^th Royal Fusiliers, and some Canadian battalions.  But it was the “Fighting Fifth” who was entitled to the lion’s share of the victory, which the British achieved.  Supported by the Royal Fusiliers, they carried the first and second lines of German trenches on a front of some 600 yards, capturing many prisoners and causing great loss to the enemy.  Seldom, even in the present war, have soldiers been called upon to undertake a tougher job that that allotted to the Northumberland Fusiliers.  The enemy’s trenches were so ingeniously and elaborately protected by wire entanglements that it seemed almost impossible to reach them.  But the Fusiliers were not to be discouraged by obstacles, which no longer have any terror for the British.  It was a painfully slow and dangerous ask to cut through the wire, especially as our men were in full view of the enemy’s guns, which belched forth a constant hurricane of shells.  At last, however, an opening was affected, and then, says a Canadian officer who was present, “the Fusiliers went for the first line of German trenches for all the world as though they were a football team rushing a goal at a Crystal Palace Cup Tie final.  A large number of the brave fellows fell, for their bodies were an easy target for the German machine gun guns and riflemen. 

            They had to make a dash over a stretch of ground which afforded absolutely no cover; there was nothing between them and death but the breeze of an early morning-that is the only word to describe it-and like a wave they swept over the German trenches.”  The Huns, contrary to their usual practice, did not flinch before the British steel, and a desperate hand-to-hand struggle ensued.  Finally, the superior bayonet work of our men gave them the upper hand, but not until the trenches were choked with corpses and slippery with blood.  Subsequently, the trenches captured by the Northumberland and Royal Fusiliers were taken over by the Canadians, who gained further ground.  After exploding five mines in a direct line, which completely shattered the German defences, the Dominion troops advanced, under cover of a heavy artillery fire, and, though the enemy outnumbered them by at least five to two, carried the position at the point of the bayonet.  Nor would they yield an inch of the ground which they had won, though, as the position was of vital importance to the Huns, they made desperate and repeated efforts to dislodge them.  Many acts of signal heroism were performed during the Battle of St. Eloi.  When the telephone wires were cut, one man traversed two hundred yards of open country under terrific shellfire, not once but three times, to link up his battery.  Cut off from his comrades in an isolated trench, another man refused to leave a wounded comrade, though the trench was being so heavily shelled that he expected every minute to be his last, and finally succeeded in dragging the wounded man back to comparative safety.  A young Staff officer, with the most incomplete indifference to the shells which were falling all about him, reconnoitred the enemy’s position and obtained information, which contributed materially to ensure the success of the attack; and Canadians on several occasions crawled out under a heavy machine gun fire to bring in wounded Germans, one of whom-an officer-showed his appreciation of his rescuer’s courage and humanity by endeavouring to shoot him!   But one of the bravest deeds of all-or rather series of deeds-was that performed by an Army chaplain and former London curate, the Rev. Edward Noel Mellish, attached to the Royal Fusiliers which was most deservedly recognized by the Victoria Cross being awarded him.  During the three days fighting the heroic “padre” went repeatedly under heavy and continuous shell and machine gun fire between out original trenches, and those captured from the enemy to tend and rescue wounded men.  He brought in ten badly wounded men on the first day from ground which was literally swept by the fire of the enemy’s machine guns, and the danger which he ran may be gauged from the fact that three were actually killed while he was dressing their wounds.  The Royal Fusiliers were relieved on the second day, but he went back and brought in twelve more wounded men.  Nor did he desist from his efforts until the end of the battle, for on the night of the third day he took charge of a party of volunteers, who went out to rescue the remaining wounded.

            “Nothing could be finer,” says an officer of the Northumberland Fusiliers, “than the way Chaplain Mellish did his duty, and more than his duty, during the time that he was stationed near us.  Immediately the troops captured the trenches, and while the wounded men were picking their way painfully back, the enemy’s guns were turned on full blast, and the intervening ground was deluged with shellfire and machine gun bullets, not to mention shells or grenades that came from a portion of trench still in the enemy’s hands.  Into this tempest of fire the brave parson walked, a prayer book under his arm, as though he were going to a church parade in peacetime.  He reached the first batch of wounded, and knelt down to do what he could for them.  The first few men he brought in himself without any aid; and it made us think a bit more of parsons to see how he walked quietly under fire, assisting the slow moving wounded and thinking more of saving them from discomfort than of his own safety.  It was only when the ambulance parties were able to get out during a lull in the fighting that he took a rest.  Next day he was out on the job as unconcerned as ever, and some men of my regiment had reason to be graceful for his attentions to them at critical moments.  Some of the men never have survived the ordeal had it not been for the prompt assistance rendered them by Mr. Mellish.  One story of a Cockney soldier who was aided by the parson is worth repeating, because it is the best tribute to the parson that could be put on record.  When the wonded man, who had hitherto been noted for his anti religious bias, was safe in the base hospital, he had told his mates how he had been saved and asked: “What religion is’e?”  he was told, and made the answer: “Well, I’m the same as in now, and the bloke as sez a word again our church will ave is head bashed in.”  When the Rev. Noel Mellish, who is thirty-four years of age, was gazetted Chaplain to the Forces, it was a case of “back to the Army again,” since he was a soldier before he became a clergyman, and, needless to say, a brave one.  He went out to South Africa in December 1900, and was among the first recruits for Baden Powell’s Police, with whom he did a good deal of block house and frontier work.  Before leaving England, he had been in the Artists Rifles, and so was well acquainted with military discipline and procedure.  One who served with him in the South African War speaks of him as the bravest man he knew.  On one occasion, Boers surrounded a party of Baden Powell’s Police in a farmhouse, and there was practically no chance for them.  Mr. Mellish was sent on what seemed a forlorn hope for assistance.  He got safely through and delivered his message; but, though his duty ended there, he made his way back to his comrades in the besieged farmhouse, to tell them that relief was on the way and to do all he could to help them to hold out.  At the close of the war he returned to England, but not long afterwards went out to South Africa again and took an important post in the diamond mines at Jagersfontein; and there was no man more esteemed and honoured all over the mine.  During the years he was at Jagersfontein he assisted at a church and native mission, reading the lessons at the mission in the somewhat fearsome language understood by the natives.  Despite long and arduous days in the mine, he made light of sitting up all night by the bedside of a sick friend, and his life generally at Jagersfontein was such as to justify the remark of one of its inhabitants: “It is men such as Mr Mellish who restore one’s faith in mankind.”

            Returning to England, he studied at King’s College, London, and in 1912 took Holy Orders and became one of the curates at St. Paul’s Church Deptford, a parish with a population of over 12,000, mostly poor people.  In his parish he was just as strenuous a worker as he has proved himself on the field of battle.  His chief activities were in connection with the Church Lads Brigade, and week in and week out he laboured to perfect the boys in their drill and other duties.  A fine specimen of a man himself-he stands over six feet in height and is broad and muscular-he taught his little band the value of discipline and “to play the game.”  He took over an old public house at the back of the Empire Music hall, Deptford, and converted it into a boys club.  The youngsters insisted on naming it after their captain, and so the place is known as the “Noel Club.”  Mr Mellish is only the second clergyman to win the Victoria Cross.  The first was an Irishman, the Rev. James Williams Adams, who won it so far back as 1879, during the Afghan War.  Mr. Adams, who was known as the “Fighting Parson” shared all the hardships of Lord Robert’s famous march from Kabul to Khandahar; but it was at an earlier stage of the war that he gained the much-coveted distinction.  The Afghans were pressing on the British force at the village of Bhagwana, when two troopers of the 9^th Lancers, during a charge, were hurled, with their horses, into a deep and wide nullah.  Adams, without hesitation, went to their assistance, plunged into the nullah, and, being an unusually powerful man, by sheer strength dragged the men, one after another, from under the struggling animals.  The Afghans were close upon them and were keeping up a hot fire; but Adams paid no heed to his own safety till he had pulled the almost exhausted Lancers to the top of the slippery bank.  The same day he rescued another of the Lancers from the Afghan horsemen.  Lord Roberts mentions the “Fighting Parson” and these incidents in his memoirs. Mr Adams died in 1903, when rector of Ashwell, Rutland.  Early in the war the Rev. Noel Mellish, whose parents reside at Lewisham, lost a brother, Lieutenant Coppin Mellish, who came back from Canada to join the Army.  Extracted from 'Deeds That Thrill The Empire'  

ROBERT GRANT  (Sergeant)  5^th of Foot, The Northumberland Fusiliers          On September 24^th 1857, some of the stiffest fighting of the Indian Mutiny took place at the Alumbagh, and during the action Private Devency was terribly wounded, his leg being shot away. Grant proceeded under a terrific fire to his friend’s assistance, carried him out of range and, with the help of the late Lieutenant Brown and some soldiers, contrived to bring him safely into camp.  This gallant soldier’s name was originally gazetted on June 19^th 1860, as “Ewart,” but corrected in the issue of October 12^th, following. 

PETER McMANUS  (Private)  5^th of Foot, The Northumberland Fusiliers            On September 26^th 1857, McManus was one of the band of men whose bravery is described in the record of James Hollowell, V.C.  He remained outside the house in which the party were shut up, and from behind a pillar kept up a most telling fire on Sepoys, thereby preventing their making a rush on the building.  With Private John Ryan, V.C., he rushed into the street under a terrific fire and carried in Captain Arnold, 1^st Madras Fusiliers, who received another wound while being taken into the house.  After serving through the Mutiny this gallant soldier of smallpox at Allahabad in 1859.