Robin Braysher

William Richmond and 10/Black Watch (2)

On Burn’s Night (25 January) I introduced William Richmond who, at the age of 20, enlisted in the 10th (Service) Battalion of the Royal Highland Regiment (Black Watch) on 11 September 1914. After finding themselves in various English camps during 1915 and spending two months in France the Battalion, with the rest of 26th Division, started heading off for Salonika – via Marseille – in November 1915.

A lost world …

Although the White Tower would have been familiar, my late grandfather would not have recognised modern Thessaloniki – the vibrant Greek city rebuilt after the great fire of 1917 and developed in the decades after that. To him and other members of the British Salonika Force who passed through it was very much an eastern city – not always remembered fondly – populated by a multiplicity of different peoples. Notable among the inhabitants was the strong Jewish community, but the fire of 1917, subsequent upheavals and the appalling events of the Holocaust changed the city forever.

William Richmond and 10/Black Watch (1)

Happy Burn’s Night to all our Scottish readers – wherever you are in the world – and all those Sassenachs who, like me, enjoy nothing more than tucking into a haggis with ‘neeps and tatties’, washed down with a ‘wee dram’!

This seems an ideal occasion to celebrate one of the Scottish units of the British Salonika Force – 10th (Service) Battalion, Royal Highlanders (Black Watch). Formed in Perth in 1914 the Battalion joined 26th Division (77th Brigade) and soon found itself far from the Highlands: on Salisbury Plain, in Bristol and Sutton Veny in Wiltshire. In September 1915 it sailed for France but, after just two months, it was off to Salonika where it remained until returning to the Western Front in June 1918.

That song!

As I suspected, the song that Andy gave us on 7 January – Salonika – has been going round and round in my head. It’s also been leading me down various rabbit holes on the internet. The lyrics are available on a range of websites, alongside some very earnest discussions about the meaning of the song, including some rather fanciful descriptions of the role of Salonika in the First World War: a supply base for the Gallipoli campaign. Really?

Salonika on the Wireless

I imagine BBC Radio Three’s long-running programme ‘Composer of the Week’ has looked at English composer, Ralph Vaughan Williams and his career, many times. I remember listening to a previous episode some time ago and being irritated as his First World War army service was glossed over and no mention made of his time with the BSF. I am pleased to say, though, that last week’s series – A Vaughan Williams Christmas – mentions Christmas 1916 which he spent beneath Mount Olympus with his 60th Division Field Ambulance unit. You can listen to the programme for a while longer online here:

https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/m001t9yp

Although Vaughan Williams apparently noted down Greek tunes, none is played in the programme, but you do get performances of his lovely seasonal music and symphonies, plus a full performance of his much-loved The Lark Ascending.

I can only think of one way to finish this post and that is with this Greek Christmas tune, which has featured in previous Christmas posts and featured in Aladdin in Macedonia – the first of the 85th Field Ambulance pantomimes:

Christmas greetings …

… to all our members, friends and visitors. We thank you for your support over the year and look forward to you joining us for more online Salonika stories, faces and news.

Christmas Greetings from Noah!

‘Who is Noah?’ I hear you cry.

Well, he is the Salonika Campaign Society’s new mule – an ‘Adoption Star’ at Redwings Horse (and mule and donkey) Sanctuary in Norfolk. In September we said farewell to Muffin, the mule we had adopted in 2015 in recognition of the part played by mules and other animals in the Macedonian campaign. We were sorry to lose SCS Honorary Member Muffin but, at 36, he had had a long and happy life at Redwings; something that looked most unlikely when sent for slaughter with his mother as a foal.

Much as happens with royal succession, the transition from Muffin to Noah has been seamless and we look forward to him enjoying many years as an Honorary member of the Society. We will introduce him properly in the new year but, in the meantime, it is a pleasure to share with you the Christmas card he has sent to all his friends at the SCS.

Happy Saint Andrew’s Day!

Having marked the national days of England, Wales and Ireland over the past year, I could hardly ignore Scotland. Having done one of those family history DNA tests, I was very disappointed to find no trace of Scottish ancestry – 16% Welsh was something of a surprise – so my only claim to Scottish heritage is my great-grandfather from East London who served for 12 years with the Cameronians (Scottish Rifles) in India and South Africa at the end of the 19th century. Was it the allure of the tartan trews? Anyway, I wish all our Scottish members, friends and visitors a very happy Saint Andrews day.

Remembering Charles Ussher Kilner

It is with great grief that I wish to tell you your son has died of wounds received in the recent attack. Our company was ordered to take up a position on the left flank of a brigade which was taking a village a mile to our front. We know the Bulgars were entrenched there. It was successfully carried out and the trenches taken and held. Your son was hit in the charge gallantly leading his men. I saw him at once and had him taken back. He was hit in the side but was not in great pain. We had great hopes of his recovery but last Saturday he had a relapse and died on Sunday morning. We buried him in a small cemetery where other are laid who in like manner have given their lives for their Country
Letter from Kilner’s company commander to his father, 8 October 1916

Oh! Oh! Oh! it’s a lovely war …

… What do we want with eggs and ham, when we’ve got plum and apple jam? Form fours! Right turn! How shall we spend the money we earn? Oh! Oh! Oh! it’s a lovely war.
J. P. Long & Maurice Scott, © 1917 B. Feldman & Co. Ltd, London