Carole McEntee-Taylor - Herbert Columbine VC

First published in Great Britain in 2013 by
Pen & Sword Military
an imprint of
Pen & Sword Books Ltd
47 Church Street
Barnsley
South Yorkshire
S70 2AS

Copyright Carole McEntee-Taylor 2013

HARDBACK ISBN: 978-1-78159-309-7
PDF ISBN: 978-1-47383-079-0
EPUB ISBN: 978-1-47382-963-3
PRC ISBN: 978-1-47383-021-9

The right of Carole McEntee-Taylor to be identified as author of this work
has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and
Patents Act 1988.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in
any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying,
recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without
permission from the Publisher in writing.

Typeset in 11pt Ehrhardt by
Mac Style, Beverley, E. Yorkshire

Printed and bound in the UK by CPI Group (UK) Ltd, Croydon, CRO 4YY

Pen & Sword Books Ltd incorporates the Imprints of Pen & Sword Aviation,
Pen & Sword Family History, Pen & Sword Maritime, Pen & Sword Military,
Pen & Sword Discovery, Wharncliffe Local History, Wharncliffe True Crime,
Wharncliffe Transport, Pen & Sword Select, Pen & Sword Military Classics,
Leo Cooper, The Praetorian Press, Remember When, Seaforth Publishing
and Frontline Publishing.

For a complete list of Pen & Sword titles please contact
PEN & SWORD BOOKS LIMITED
47 Church Street, Barnsley, South Yorkshire, S70 2AS, England
E-mail:
Website: www.pen-and-sword.co.uk

Contents

Herbert George Columbine
No. 50720 Private
9th Squadron Machine Gun Corps
Date of Act of Bravery: 22 March 1918

For most conspicuous bravery and self-sacrifice displayed, when, owing to casualties, Private Columbine took over command of a gun and kept firing it from 9.00 am till 1.00 pm in an isolated position with no wire in front. During this time, wave after wave of the enemy failed to get up to him. Owing to his being attacked by a low flying aeroplane, the enemy at last gained a strong footing in the trench on either side. The position being untenable, he ordered the two remaining men to get away, and though being bombed from either side, he kept his gun firing and inflicted tremendous losses. He was eventually killed by a bomb which blew up him and his gun. He showed throughout the highest valour, determination and self-sacrifice.

Acknowledgements

W ithout the following people it would not have been possible to write the book so I would like to thank them for all their help assistance and encouragement.

First and most importantly, thank you to Michael Turner and the Columbine Statue Fund Committee for giving me the opportunity to write about such a brave man and to Pete Frost for allowing me to use several of his original photos and for also spending ages improving the quality of some of the other photos and images. Pete has a wonderful archive of photos of Walton which you can see at http://www.putmans.co.uk/oldwaltonindex.htm

I would like to thank Jean Pemberton for the picture of her grandmother Drusilla Dundan, Emma Columbines sister and the wonderful picture of Emma, and Graham Sacker from the Machine Gun Corp (Old Comrades Association) who has kindly allowed me to reproduce letters and eyewitness accounts of Herberts heroic last stand.

I would like to thank Keith Langridge for putting me in touch with the South African Military Historical Society SAMHS and to Mrs Joan Marsh, Hon Secretary/Treasurer SAMHS for allowing me to use the images from their website about the battle of Silkaatsnek.

I would also like to thank Keith Packwood for his help in finding me a trench map of Hervilly Woods in WW1.

Last, but definitely not least, I would like to thank Dame Judi Dench for taking the time and trouble to write a Foreword to the book.

Foreword

By Dame Judi Dench

T his biography of Herbert (Bertie) Columbine, VC is much more than just the story of his life. After all, he was only twenty-four when he died. This is a veritable history lesson and tells the story of the kind of world into which Herbert Columbine was born, lived and died.

When Berties father was born in 1865, it was a very different world to the one in which his son died, but they both gave their lives fighting for their country. How tragic for Berties mother to lose both husband and son in such circumstances.

This is a fascinating account of a young man who never knew he was a hero, and the kind of world that made him the man he became. A memorial is long overdue and I hope this account will help achieve that in time to mark the centennial anniversary of the First World War.

Prologue

Walton-on-the-Naze
March 1918

A fterwards Emma would always wonder why shed had no premonition of what was to happen. Not that it would have made any difference of course. Bert would have been dead just the same but Her thoughts tailed off as they always did when she reached the part where Annie, the post woman, had knocked on the door. In glorious ignorance Emma had rubbed her hands quickly dry on her apron and, totally unsuspecting, had gone to answer it.

Shed not even seen Annie walking along the road towards the house because shed been busy out the back putting the washing through the mangle. She knew Annie quite well. Since the beginning of the war the number of post women had rapidly increased as more and more men were called up to fight and Annie had been delivering her letters for over a year now. It was one of the things she liked about living in the small seaside town. Most people knew each other, by sight, even if not by name. When she knocked on the door, as the postman or woman always did to let you know the post had arrived, they would always exchange pleasantries and Annie would invariably ask how Bert was.

Even when she saw Annie standing there in her uniform, the blue serge coat and waterproof skirt fighting against the wind and the blue straw hat threatening to blow away in the strong gale that was blowing off the sea, she still had no idea. Shed actually smiled at her even as her brain was slowly registering the letter in the brown envelope.

Annies arm was outstretched, her eyes full of sorrow as she handed it to her, but even then she still had no idea. It was almost as if the world had stopped and even though the sight of the brown envelope with War Office stamped on the front struck terror into any family whose loved ones were serving in the war, it was as if her brain refused to move forward into the present.

As if in a trance she took the letter. She was vaguely aware that Annie was reaching out to her, but she no longer saw her. From being paralyzed her brain had catapulted her abruptly back into the present and she realized that her hands were shaking. She could never remember shutting the door or even walking into the sitting room. But somehow she must have found her way to her chair and sat down. How long she sat there before opening the envelope was another mystery. It seemed like hours but was probably considerably less. Perhaps she had known after all, otherwise why delay so long. It could have said that he was injured and in hospital, but somehow she knew that it didnt. By not opening it she could pretend for a few more precious minutes that everything was the same. That one day the door would open and her beloved Bertie would come home, resplendent in his smart blue uniform, a beaming smile on his face and give her a big hug.