Fiction

I t seemed everyone had heard of the Kinmel Army Camp riot of 1919. Of how an army officer and his wife had lodged in the nearby village of Abergele during the riot at the camp!.

Blending history with mystery I decided to write this story in memory of five young men buried today in the graveyard adjacent to Bodelwyddan castle in Denbighshire North Wales.

This is a story of a time long forgotten!, of a time almost erased by the modern society we now live in. A story of men who, in the previous years had been fighting to secure the freedom we enjoy today-this is their story!

Today one could be forgiven for not noticing the small village of Bodelwyddan on the North Wales coast, but let me take you back to the year 1919!As one war ended another was about to shape up in the form of a riot by some four hundred men of the Canadian Expeditonary Force. It was then that Bodelwyddan was on the front page of each and every tabloid.

The year is 1990,and after years of working for a local bank my wife and I decided to live near her aged parents in the village of Abergele North Wales. After purchasing an old Victorian house ,we were confronted with the challenge of bringing it up to modern day standards!.

Whilst my wife prepared dinner I decided it was time to clear the attic in our old Victorian house.Like the rest of the house it had not seen the light of day for many years.As I made my way through the tangled cobwebs my eyes focused on a small box covered in dust. As I brushed the dust away I was confronted with the insignia of a regiment that escaped me at that time?.As I proceeded to open the box in the fading light of my torch, excitement took over where fear was once imminent!.

Slowly I opened the box and was confronted by a set of manuscripts that were almost unreadable.With the aid of my trusty torch the first thing I noticed was the heading” KINMEL REVISITED”!.

As I began reading it dawned on me that the house we had purchased had once been lived in by an army officer who had noted down every event that led to the Kinmel Army Camp riot.Mesmerised by the story that unfolded before me I found myself almost reliving events of the war in France.Although the war was before my time, I found myself in the trenches in France,trenches filled with the stench of death, of men screaming in pain?.

Trying to visualise what life was like, I overheard my wife shouting that dinner was ready!.Placing the manuscript gently back in the box, I made my way back through the maze of cobwebs.

The following day we decided to visit the churchyard of St Margaret’s Bodelwyddan maybe find out more about the riot from the local vicar?.It was then that we were shown the five graves with the Maple Leaf Emblem of Canada on them, graves of young men who had been killed during the riot. Five graves with the Maple Leaf Emblem of Canada on them.

The following story is from the journals of Captain George Sawley (Royal Artillery) who was present, before and after the riot at Kinmel Army Camp North Wales 1919.

The frantic knocking on my door awoke me from the sleep I was trying to catch up on!. As I opened my eyes I realised I was not still in the trenches, and the screams of men in pain, plus the constant noise of the guns was just a part of my nightmare!. The rain was coming down fast as the Corporal said, “Come quickly Sir the Canadian Soldiers are rioting?”.I had heard conditions in the camp were not up to expectations, but was told it was until we were able to supply the ships to take our allies home. I never realised the camp was cold, damp and almost as bad as the trenches the men had recently vacated.

As I watched the Corperal disappear in the gloom. I knew I had to muster up every ounce of courage I had, courage I had used at the front because sporadic gunfire was now coming from the direction of the camp.

Tuesday March 4th 1919, and the camp quickly came under control of the rioters. I myself knew it was my duty to restore order and quickly.As I stood in the pouring rain I knew even though these men were well known to me, I had to carry out my commitments as an officer.

As the men began to ransack the canteen I caught sight of the glint of steel as bay- onets last used at the front were being fixed! It was at that moment I knew blood would be spilled before the night was over!

The local shops known as Tintown because of their metal construction had been raised to the ground, ground that was now awash with empty beer bottles.

Although five young men died as a direct result of the riot,I myself felt sickened by the death of nineteen year old private John Henry. Shot in the back of his young head advancing towards the rioters. As I cradled his head in my arms I felt the warmth of his blood run over my hands.Just before he uttered his last breath he whispered the words “Why Sir Why?”.

As I picked up his limp body an uncanny silence spread around the camp and a pass- ageway opened between the men!. As his private papers and photos of his familywere revealed I knew, even though I had seen many deaths this one would leave a mental Scar that would remain with me forever!.

Twenty Eight men received injuries and five died during the fracas. To calm the sit- uation down the war office stated the S.S.Celtic was ready to depart at the end of March, plus each man was to receive a two pound adavance ,and indeed an amnesty was mentioned but those responsible would have to face a trial.

T he Trials began in earnest on 16th April 1919 in Liverpool.Fifty one men were tried for their part in the riot at Kinmel Army Camp North Wales!.During the trials I happened to mention, no mention had been made of the five dead men ,but failed to get an answer?.

As the S.S.Celtic set sail for Canada,a sadness came over me since I knew the men in jail were about to receive harsh sentences!.Infact Walton Jail in Liverpool had a job keeping the men under control when they heard of the Steamship leaving?.

I have to say after fighting in one of the worst conflicts known to man at that time, I often wondered if I were not an officer,and was presented with conditions those men had to endure, would I have done the same thing by rioting?.

Many people said that most of those involved were infact pawns?,men who had drunk a lot and were being incited to riot by Russo Bloshavics.But since they were involved and had caused carnage that had run into thousands of pounds, each and every one of them would receive short, yet harsh sentences!.This was the view of the panel of officers acting as judges over the proceedings.

I was present during the trials in Liverpool.Returning home to Abergele each and every day.Infact one of my duties was to help try and assess the damage in the camp and to maybe rebuild it!. Each and every time I returned to the camp I found myself confronted by the smell of cordite, and was confronted by the shelling in my head found myself crouching in the trenches, fearing for my life!.

Yes, I was an officer, and maybe I should not have let the men see how scared I was, but I am only human and fear was a part of my life at that time.As the screams of shells rang in my ears I would began sweating profusely,try as I might I found Mouth was too dry to blow my whistle.As we proceeded around the fallen camp I placed my hands over my ears to ward off the sounds,and this became noticeable by those along side me in the camp, and of course my wife Mildred.

As the men were led in to the courtroom in threes, the courtroom would erupt to the sound of people protesting their innocence.The Judges were made up of old Colonels and officers who had seen combat at the front.

Under guard and with permission from the presiding Judges, I was eventually allowed to meet many of the men I had known not only in Kinmel Camp, but also in the trenches of that ill fated war.It became very evident as they admitted their guilt,they felt strongly about the death of those five young men,and of how it could have been avoided.had the ships been available to take them home?.

Having met each and every man I came to the conclusion they were badly represented.It was that moment I wondered about the saying innocent until proven guilty?.Yes of course they were guilty of destroying government property.But I also felt maybe we were to blame for not getting them home to their loved ones?.

A s each man sprang to attention as their names were read out I felt those defending them had little or no time for such behaviour, and the heroism they performed in the war to end all wars, was lost in this smoke filled court- room in Liverpool.

As the S.S.Celtic slipped away from the dockyard with its mostly Canadian passengers I felt a little sad since I had come to no many of the men as com- rades,almost like a close knit family!.Many of them said they would keep in touch,but I knew this was not going to be so!.

Suddenly all hell seemed to break loose as men began shouting about one of the prisoners escaping from prison!.”Sir!”The young private sprang to attention as he spoke.”Sir one of the Canadian prisoners has tried to make a break for it, seems he is heading this way to try and jump ship?”.”Thank you son!”I replied just as the ship sounded its horn.

It was seeming Private Alain Goff ,born on South Africa to a Canadian mother had escaped custody and was heading towards the dockyard!.As I glanced towards the S.S.Celtic as it left the Quay I realised Alain Goff was not going to make it, and might get shot for his troubles?.

Alain Goff was apprehended, and for his troubles received a fractured skull ,along with an addition to his six months of hard labour of two whole months.”Why?” I asked him as I noticed he was infact shackled to the bed.”Sir I am a proud man and served my country well, but locking me up was just too much for me to take?,but Sir I have stood toe to toe with the enemy and for that alone I should never have been locked away?”. It has to be said Alain was infact one of the ringleaders that almost brought the camp at Kinmel almost to its knees!

None of those that were sentenced served out their time,and most were on their way home to Canada within six months!.All except the five with the Maple Leaf Emblem on their graves in St Margerets,Bodelwyddan North Wales today!..

A time remembered of days gone by

A time remembered to wonder why?,

A time to ponder and maybe dream

A time to wonder how life may have been?.

A time to reflect on those they loved

A time they may look down from above?,

A time to maybe shout out loud

A time for all men to stand tall and proud.