01/07/2015
Private William Cooling, 11th Battalion Nottinghamshire & Derbyshire Regiment (The Sherwood Foresters), was wounded on 1st July 1916. He wrote of his experiences from his hospital bed.
“I really don’t think the war can last above another couple of months. It only wants us to keep smacking at them now we have got a start. What do you say? I am going to tell you all about how I got wounded. If you get Thursday’s ‘Mirror’ you will see a picture of a place called La Boisselle. Well that is the actual place where I was. It was on July 1st, about 7.30, when we made an attack on the German line. Some thousands of troops were engaged, and you would have thought by the time several battalions had got over they would have been quietened down. But they still played with their maxims or machine guns. I declare there were hundreds of them, and all were firing, for we didn’t seem to get above a dozen yards before quite a number of our men lay either killed or wounded. The sight was awful. We could see our pals falling every stride they took. I managed to get about 20 yards when suddenly a bullet caught me in the back. I tried my best to go forward with the rest of the lads, but its sting was too hot for me. I was losing so much blood I dropped my rifle and fell. We were absolutely smothered with bursting shell, but our gallant lads kept firing and going on for all they were worth. I lay there for half-an-hour gasping for breath, when I saw about five or six yards away a large hole, which had been made with a German shell. I at once struggled into that hole for safety, but it was a great task to get there, for the bullet had passed through my back and I was helpless. But I managed to reach the shell-hole, and lay there to get my wind back. Looking round I saw a great number of wounded men lay there, but I could not do anything for them. I had three mates in the hole with me – two dead and the other dying fast. The poor fellow couldn’t speak. It was a trying time, I can assure you. We lay there waiting for help, but all in vain, for it was too hot with machine-gun bullets for any stretcher-bearer to come to our rescue. By that time we had drunk all our water, and the sun was just beginning to get hot.
“We lay there for several hours and could not get a drink. We both hunted for water, but in vain, for no living soul could get to us. By now I knew our boys had got some of the German trenches, for our artillery’s shots were going very high and further. I knew they were going a good distance behind the first line, which by that time had become ours. I was thinking of home all the time, and had forgotten my mate who lay beside me. When I turned the best I could to see him and speak to him, but got no answer, and he never moved, nor could I see him breathing. I managed to stretch my arm out to touch him, but couldn’t feel his pulse beating, and there was no sign of life left. The poor chap had died. About an hour he died he said to me in a faint tone, “Are you all right?” and I said, “Yes, I’m all right; are you?” but getting no answer I asked him again, and he just managed to say, “I am afraid I’m going.” So I said, “Surely you aren’t going to leave me alone, are you?” He said, “No, lad, I’m not. If I go, you will still have someone with you.” I replied, “Sure enough”. I was pleased he had God in his mind and, thank the Lord, He was with us both. I was beginning to feel the pain myself by now, for I was still bleeding fast. I could scarcely speak to him, so I tried to rest contented for what I thought about an hour. It was then I discovered he had died; the Lord had relieved him of his misery. It was now about 12 o’’clock I think, though, it seemed about a year. I thought to myself, “Well, I have to lie here now until it gets dark enough for someone to come and fetch me.” I had no one to speak to, as my pals were dead, so I lay there among my dead chums until it was dark, about one o’clock at night. Meanwhile I must have fell asleep, for I don’t remember the afternoon. After dark I could hear someone shouting, “Were are you?” and it seemed to fill me with new life. I couldn’t shout an answer to him, for he was too far away. After a time a fellow came rushing up and said, “Who’s in here?” so I managed to speak, and said, “It’s me, Jock.” He said, “Who’s me?” I was who it was and said, “It’s Cooling.” It was one of my pals, a Sutton lad named Townsend. A good little lad he is too, for he never asked what was the matter, but said, “Come on, jump on my back,” but I couldn’t. I told him I was shot in the back, so he tried to lift me, but only putting me in great pain. He said, “I will got and fetch some help, “ and then came along a while after with a trench board and two more men, who managed to get me to our on trench. There were so many wounded being fetched in that they hadn’t enough stretchers. The used trench ladders, and had R.E.’s for stretcher-bearers. After they got me to the clearing station, where hundreds of wounded lay, I was conveyed to hospital, and am going on well, to say what a time I have had.”
‘Mansfield and North Notts. Advertiser’, 21st July 1916.
