A Saga of the Sea
JUTLAND AND AFTER
"...O Holy Spirit Who didst brood
Upon the waters dark and rude
And bid their angry tumult cease
And give our wild confusion, peace..."
The Sailors' Hymn
©Copyright February 1, 2005 by Trevor Morgan
The First day of Imbolc 2005
Written in Rock Well Green
Near the town of Wellington
in Somerset
in the Kingdom of Wessex,
England
1 TA21 9DB
Trevor Morgan is hereby identified as the author of this work in accordance with Section 77 of the Copyright, Design and Patents Act in the year of our Lord's incarnation 1988.
AUTHOR'S FOREWORD
These verses are based loosely on tales told to me by my grandmother's second husband, known to me as "Uncle Arthur" and by other old matelots. He served at Jutland. I believe his ship was HMS Chester but I am not sure. She was a Chatham ship and most of her crew would have come from London and the South East. Arthur was from Portsmouth and in his tales I always thought he was talking about Portsmouth and Spithead. Verbal history is not always accurate. However, I have relied more upon my faulty memory rather than historic research in the first draft of this yarn.
The Chester was built for the Greek Navy and completed in 1915. She was not exported as the Royal Navy needed all available ships. The unusual thing about her was that she was fitted with 5.5 inch guns not 6 inch guns. It is said that although these fired a lighted shell they could achieve a more rapid rate of fire. One source says of this design of gun that its shielding did not go right down to the deck so "...did not give adequate protection to the crew from splinters..." The fate of her legless gunners seems to bear this out. No further ships were subsequently fitted with this design of gun.
I have chosen a fictional character, able seamen Arthur King, for this narrative. It seemed better for a semi-fiction than to use the name of dear old Uncle Arthur Wickes.
Arthur King returned home in 1918 to have his young wife, Anne, die of the "Spanish Lady", the great flu epidemic of 1919.
My "Uncle" Arthur married Mary Morgan a widow of the Great War and my grandmother. He grew old before his time and died within a year of retiring in 1962 at the age of 65. This means he must have been married with one very young child at the time of the battle.
To me as a child he was a jolly man but had deep sad eyes and took me to my first football match. When I was eight he told me some tales as though they happened to someone else who had told them to him. This could be the case; I have no way of knowing. I do know that many of the men of his generation in my family in Portsmouth, if they lived today, would be said to have a mild form of PTSD. Then it was put down to a "lack of moral fibre"! Many turned to alcohol or to unreality or to humour. The drunk, the mad man and the fool are a gift to society from warmongering politicians.
Trevor Morgan
Rockwell Green
February 2005
DEDICATION
TO STORIES OF THE SEA
The sailors ply the wilful sea
But it's not theirs to quell
It guards our island's liberty
And there's so much to tell
For sailors may tell many a tale
Of what they may have done
As when ashore and drinking ale
There's wenches to be won
Some tales are fancied some are true
Some stories are quite tall
In all of this there's little new
Let's hear the oceans call
Let's hear of fights far out at sea
Let's hear of dead men's deeds
Of how an island was kept free
Remember widows' weeds
A Saga of the Sea
JUTLAND AND AFTER
Prologue
Poor Rupert
When the blood was draining Rupert
Draining from your bowels
When you lay on that ship Rupert
Dying for no reason
Was England first in your thoughts then
With its pomp and power
Did you care for England Rupert
In that painful hour
Rupert why did you waste your life
The only one you had
Rupert why did you have to go
You must have been quite mad
So now Rupert there's a corner
Of some foreign field
There's a corner poor dear Rupert
That's forever dead.
Jutland: May 1916
Those ocean roads the Vikings rode
Great ironclads then plied
Where serpent ships had their abode
A new age fought and died
For Kaiser and for King each shot
Great salvos of huge shell
That fearsome battle's now forgot
And yet it cast its spell
A generation dwelled in shade
With sorrow in the soul
Though war's an art that is man made
It does not make man whole
It takes away the young and fit
The gods claim those they love
While others bear the stain from it
The raven eats the dove
The dove it is the bird of peace
It is the bird of hope
When battles end and wrath may cease
Not all know how to cope
The raven is a carrion bird
It eats flesh off the dead
Some tortured souls don't say a word
Their life's one secret dread
They dread the dreams that come at night
They jump at each new din
This terror is their secret plight
So who in war can win?
That sea's at peace again once more
With waters dark and cold
They lap upon our island's shore
Where sailor's tales are told
Closing In For Action
Across the sea there to the east
Grey forms were steaming fast
Some spewed smoke like some ancient beast
This day could be their last
Great waves form patterns so beware
They roll before the eyes
With complex movement everywhere
Beneath those eerie skies
Each pattern's change in motions strange
Form part of destiny
So as two fleets came into range
Then what will be will be
The rapid firing of each gun
Resounded through the hull
The belching smoke that dulled the sun
Went on without a lull
A flash upon the forecastle deck
One gun then ceased to fire
It had become a twisted wreck
Become the gunners' pyre
Another gun fell silent too
Its crew tossed all about
Without legs what were they to do
The lucky soon bled out
One untouched man stood in a daze
A boy bled at his post
As sense came back within this haze
Hell had a new outpost
The horror of the scene was grim
Good mates were bleeding free
His training then it guided him
Like all men on that sea
The toiling crew worked to put out
Some raging fires below
There was no time for hope nor doubt
Before that deadly glow
Those legless gunners got some care
Their stumps were tourniqueted
But Fate it can be so unfair
Each Death was just delayed
The two survivors of the blast
A man and dying boy
Each in their way would be down cast
And never now know joy
Tumult's Cease: June 1916
The anchor cable rattled past
The taut towrope went slack
Though they were here near dock at last
Not all had made it back
The sea birds circled by the stern
On trash they might be fed
Along the decks on this return
Not many words were said
The sail-maker had worked hard
On bodies sewn up neat
The Reaper had shown no regard
For Death just can't be beat
Freed Souls
Some herring gulls are gliding by
They float there to the lee
Beneath the wild and windy sky
Souls, like those gulls, drift free
Their rended bodies in a heap
Tossed there by just one blast
Left mates of theirs to cry and weep
Once battle's wrath was passed
A strange serenity came then
When guns had ceased to roar
The fearful task for living men
Became a sacred chore
Burials
They'd stopped to bury men at sea
They'd sung the sailors' hymn
From flashbacks some would not be free
That battle had been grim
Their cruiser once was quite a ship
Part of the grandest fleet
But after this near fatal trip
She didn't look so neat
Sonnet: Shell's Shock
The battle had been waged by two great foes
Their cruiser was but light and built for speed
So she had suffered, oh, such awful woes
With decks turned red as shattered bodies bleed
Where shattered metal from her shattered bow
Sliced through both men and boys like some foul scythe
Yet some remained unharmed - they knew not how
Some with minds marred but bodies still quite lithe
And haunted until death by what had been
By sights of legless men who died through shock
Such sights it's better that men had not seen
Not all have hearts or souls cold as a rock
Where bodies may stay whole minds may be marred
Then dragging years of life seem bleak and hard
Going Ashore
The wounded were laid on her deck
Ready to take ashore
From shell impacts she looked a wreck
But she'd joined naval lore
The dying boy was wrapped up well
He seemed so very pale
All heard the bosun ring that bell
Most of her crew felt frail
That wan young hero dying there
Had yearned to go to sea
His eyes now had the saddest stare
His soul would soon be free
Free from the horrors he'd been through
Free from the agony
Free from the chores this crew must do
Free from war's tyranny
He'd shown no fear when wounded there
He'd stayed firm at his post
And now he had that empty stare
Though he'd be honoured most
The youngest VC of all time
His life now ebbed away
The stories told might sound sublime
But some would feel dismay
Dismayed by all this loss of life
Dismayed by all the pain
Not all felt glory came from strife
And some now felt a stain
Flashback
The roar of gun, the crash of shell
The friends torn all apart
That acrid stench that seemed to dwell
And stain each empty heart
Three cheers for king and country then
Three cheers, the rum is up
And there's less need for moping when
There's some good rum to sup
The cold North Sea had claimed so much
Both ships and matelots too
With many now not quite in touch
There was still much to do
They held that sea but at great cost
Each man had fought so well
But who had won and who had lost?
Now only time would tell
The Stain of Trauma
Trauma may leave a darker stain
A certain special scent
And once that's burned into your brain
Somehow it won't relent
Now there's reminders everywhere
That brings it back to mind
For where there's things we cannot share
Then life becomes a grind
We can smell things that aren't at hand
Flash backs burn in the brain
Tormented minds just cannot stand
The trauma and its stain
False scents seem true to haunted men
Whose torments won't relent
And they are only ended when
All our life's force is spent
Survivors carry such a cost
Too much for some to stand
And when it seems all hope is lost
Their deaths are not so grand
Why do we let our young men die
In so much pointless strife
Though many more are wasted by
A longer blighted life
Day Dream
There Able Seaman Arthur King
Gazed out towards the shore
He never heeded death's sad sting
Because his faith was sure
He loved his wife more than his life
And he would soon be there
Away from this dark war and strife
Some things are good to share
But he would never share with her
All that they had been through
Though right now all things seemed a blur
The sky was pastel blue
The late spring of this year was fine
The sun warmed his neck here
Some shattered ships moored in the line
Sent smoke plumes in the air
Love Lies
"Is love in life a load of lies
That dims the wits and clouds the eyes
The way you once confused me so
Made it not clear to tell or know.
Is love itself a thing at all
To search for wonder, shout and call?
Or is it but a Will o' wisp
We dream of but does not exist?
And yet I say that I love you
And though you say it to me too
Whilst each may hold the other dear
Great loves can have no need to fear
When we can see no means to ends
It's then that we can be good friends"
The Dying Boy
Ashore the songbirds sang with joy
There was a gentle breeze
But on that deck that dying boy
Felt, Oh, so ill at ease
He saw the gulls and petrels too
As they whirled overhead
He saw the shoreline now in view
His wounds still seeped and bled
He felt the wetness on his side
The pangs grew bad again
But never once there had he cried
Still stoic mid the pain
His small form was not yet full grown
Some things aren't meant to be
He had loved all that he'd been shown
He'd loved his life at sea
He'd seen his gun crew be cut down
Their legs and feet all gone
And though he'd earned some great renown
His eyes no longer shone
Near moribund and marked by Death
A haziness closed in
He laboured at each single breath
Some fights you may not win
Ephemeral or Lasting
Some go in the morning
Too long before the noon
Parents are left mourning
Oh, they died too soon
The gods it has been said
Who dwell up there above
Claim young who are now dead
As their dearest love
Some go late in the night
Drift off into the dark
But men see this as right
Like songs of a lark
Yearnings and Bad Memories
As Arthur King stood by him there
And yearned for his young wife
It seemed as though he did not care
For all this loss of life
He'd tourniqueted six legless men
But each had died of shock
That horror was beyond his ken
He saw the far off dock
He knew they'd be ashore a while
He'd soon be with his wife
The thought of her then made him smile
Amid this waste of life
He'd met her four short years ago
She'd now had their first child
Inside he felt a tender glow
He stood there and he smiled
The Boy's Freedom
The boy near him was ashen grey
And looked quite close to death
But he would linger many a day
Before that final breath
He'd watched as many men had bled
His soul was chilled and grim
Orations read there for the dead
Had not meant much to him
It seemed just like a waking dream
How could this horror be?
He thought he heard some dead man's scream
Thought soon he might be free
Be free for he was soon to die
A posthumous VC
There Arthur heard his gentle sigh
And spat into the sea.
Arthur's Freedom
Old scars upon his back felt cold
From where he'd had the cat
With body young but soul grown old
He coughed again and spat
He felt a deep and foul distaste
For ships now and the sea
Sickened by the futile waste
Ashore he would feel free
Free from out the memories here
Free from survivors' pain
Free from that inward cloying fear
- He must be free again!
Eternally they seemed to wait
Beneath the pale blue sky
Mere tools used by their nation state
Yet few would question "Why?"
Brought up on duty and belief
Each did as they were told
All stifled in their hidden grief
This left some spirits cold
The dying were first shipped ashore
The injured followed on
The cloying wait all calmly bore
Soon it was past and gone
Home Coming
The cobbles were beneath his feet
The bustling streets unreal
He heard the throb of his heartbeat
Again now he could feel
The numbness of those days now past
Slid from his soul, was gone
He hastened on for now at last
He was not woebegone
The bustling streets became more real
Familiar things were here
And they may help a soul to heal
Bring back to life some cheer
He bought some flowers from a stall
New joys sang in his brain
As though he heard the angels call
And had known nought of pain
Elation is the strangest thing
Amid much loss and grief
He touched his golden wedding ring
He had a sure belief
Belief in love belief in joy
Belief in much of life
For now he'd see his baby boy
And his sweet darling wife
And that he did and he was whole
And saw that war right through
He hid those scars upon his soul
The way that most men do
At home he had his dear sweet Anne
At sea he fought the fight
She helped him be a better man
The world seemed just and right
November 1919
A Spanish Lady crossed the land
Breathed in with many a breath
Now yet more traumas were at hand
As millions met their death
The Fates it seemed they had their plan
Arthur stayed whole and well
The Spanish Lady took his Anne
And cast his soul in hell.
One Tuesday she had coughed that night
By Thursday she was dead
Dark angels seemed to pile on plight
To drive him from his head
Fickle Gods
"The gods it seemed
They loved her so
And so she had to die
For some are young
When they must go
There seems no reason why
When gods arise
They don't feel wan
These young are like their dreams
For when they wake
They fade, they're gone
The gods they have their schemes
Now gods it seems
Don't love us all
Some live to greater age
And like bad dreams
They have recall
And cause the gods to rage
The gods it seemed
They loathed him so
They did not let him die
For some grow old
Before they go
There seems no reason why"
The Widower's Rage
The coffin was heaved on the shoulders
As they shuffled mock solemnly on
And he though of the lady he loved
Of her spirit departed and gone
In side he had cried with despair
But the face that he wore was a mask
For his true feelings he would not share
And his duty was up to the task
The black shoes shuffled out to the hearse
And the coffin was slipped there inside
Now inside of him he had so cursed
But these feelings he knew how to hide
Now this coffin that bore his dead wife
Was adorned with that single white rose
And so now for the rest of his life
He adopted his own solemn pose
But inside he wanted such vengeance
On the Fates who had caused her to die
But his soul lacked all true resilience
Before dying in private he'd cry
Then his coffin was heaved on the shoulders
As they shuffled mock solemnly on
And he followed the lady he loved
As a dead soul dejected and wan
He reeled beneath this bitter blow
"What was this life about?"
The answer none may ever know
Grief filled his heart with doubt
Glad Good-bye
Now some dark courts condemn a man to "life"
But death may be more sweet
With no more chaos, no more strife
No constant sad defeat
No more of pressures to conform
No more "Do as you're told!"
And no more need to ape some norm
No facing growing old
No forward looks to addled brains
No archings in the heart
With no more feeling of the pains
Oh, may we soon depart
Depart from all this pointless waste
Depart from all this snide
At doing harm all must make haste
All this we can't abide
Men sentenced to too long a life
The gods must all despise
And their deep loathing is so rife
Oh, let us fall not rise.
A widower and still quite young
He nearly did not cope
In shades of loss we dwell among
Sad wraiths who've lost all hope
They drag the souls of some so low
They take faith out of sight
Each new day seems a bitter blow
The will is lost to fight
The horror of each dying friend
The sad death of a wife
Bring nightmares that may never end
Until the end of life
Repeated Nightmares
Long years each scene was seen
Locked in the dreams of night
The dead may be serene
The guilty dwell in fright
The joy of killing spun
A mesh to trap the mind
Where awful deeds are done
True hopes are left behind
Some guilt comes not from sin
But having stayed alive
It rots away within
And hope may not survive
This burden some must bear
It drives the spirit low
Eyes have a sunken stare
As haunted men all know
There's fecklessness in empty men
Life's like a tangled thorn
There's haplessness in all things when
The soul has turned forlorn
Memories
They'd met upon the Gosport Ferry
Crossing there one summer day
Life it seemed would be so merry
But these young hopes have gone away
That ferry ride then made him cry
Life had been too short for Ann
How could a good God let her die?
To leave him such a doleful man
Gosport Ferry Song
"There's bright sunshine on the harbour
Winter winds are blowing chill
Cold hard frost reflects the sunlight
And I'm longing for you still
Chorus:
Our best dreams can be so empty
And our longings give no thrill
Love is turned cold indifference
And I'm longing for you still
There's a thick fog on the harbour
Mists are hanging grey and still
Cold hard frost reflects the lamplight
And I'm longing for you still
Chorus:
There's an oil slick on the harbour
Slimy streaks clear waters kill
Rainbow tint reflects the bright light
And I'm longing for you still
Chorus:
There's cold moonlight on the harbour
I had wanted you until
Cold hard fate extinguished love's light
Yet I'm longing for you still
Chorus:
There's ice floating on the harbour
Winter winds are blowing chill
Cold hard frost reflects the warm light
And I'm longing for you still
Chorus:
Cold hard frost reflects the warm light
And I'm longing for you still
I am longing for you still
Longing, longing for you still"
His life was empty without Anne
He could not now be as strong
Without her he was half the man
Life seemed so unjust and wrong
Sonnet: Memories of Anne
The raging of an angry grieving soul
Where hopes are wrecked and life is too unjust
No way now may this life seem good or whole
All is now tarnished all is dull as rust
And lacks the hue that makes things glow with light
Events dragged down the soul of this good man
Whose heart stayed free of any thoughts of spite
Yet sadness stayed with him throughout his span
His love for Anne was total and complete
Safe anchorage within the storms of life
In her alone were all things that were sweet
But for his children he took this new wife
A widow who grieved for her man who'd died
So practical, but love free, knots are tied
Ann's Elegy
Sweetness of the silence
Stillness of the air
Soft and sure reliance
Knowing you are there
No hurt from hard words
Nor pain nor harm, maybe
Listen to the Birds
Together we seem free
The freedom of our bond
The Liberty of ties
To feel so surely fond
With no need for lies
No great rage or lust
No fury of desire
To be yours is a must
Like soft glowing fire
Sweetness of the silence
Stillness of the air
The soft and sure reliance
Knowing you are there
December 1953
He told sweet tales of his dear Anne
To his stepson's small boy
That boy would be a navy man
He too would lose much joy
For polio had killed his friend
Arthur could see his pain
He helped this little boy to mend
So he could play again
He told great stories of the sea
Told of the battle's rage
He told how wars had kept us free
In his and every age
He walked that child along the beach
Told him much of the sea
Of sailors ghosts now out of reach
Yet in the breeze are free
Souls on the Sea Breeze
(Tune from "Oh what a lovely war")
Our doomed ship's bell
Goes ting a'ling a'ling
Then slips beneath the sea
We're dragged beneath
The choking waves
And drown deep in the sea
Our ol' ship's bell goes
Ting a'ling a'ling
A knell for you and me
Ah, Death you have
A sting a'ling a'ling
You have this victory
As our ship's bell goes
Ting a'ling a'ling
Deep down beneath the sea
Our bodies rot
Beneath the waves
Deep on the ocean floor
Our boots or shoes
Lay there in pairs
Down there for ever more
As our ship's bell goes
Ting a'ling a'ling
Here on the ocean floor
Each time a ship
Goes down at sea
Some flotsam's washed ashore
The kin will wait
Ashore in vain
The sea claims more and more
Yet ol' ship's bells go
Ting a'ling a'ling
And ring for ever more
Each time a ship's
Sunk out at sea
We're joined by ever more
As ol' ships' bells go
Ting a'ling a'ling
They're sometimes heard ashore
Yet we must say
That Death can't win
Though it's not seen to lose
And on the floor
Of the deep sea
We find those pairs of shoes
An' all the bells go
Ting a'ling a'ling
AND RING FOREVER MORE
But sailors' souls
Are floating free
They are now free from Death
The shoreline breeze
Now sings of them
AND SINGS FOREVER MORE
For whilst their souls
Are out of reach
We HEAR THEM on each beach
Ah, Death where is thy
Sting a'ling a'ling
Where is thy victory
As all ships's bells go
Ting a'ling a'ling
AND RING FOREVER MORE
All ol' ships' bells go
Ting a'ling a'ling
THEY'LL RING FOREVER MORE
They'll ring forever more
Ring forever more
Forever more
Time's Sure Flow
Like mist that drifts across the sea
And cloaks the distant shore
It hides from us what is to be
Or what's long gone before
There's no way to communicate
With all those now long dead
There's no way now to penetrate
Know what they really said
Unquiet Soul
Arthur could show apathy
At other times disdain
But he could show true empathy
For that young child in pain
Arthur was free of inner peace
Free of true joy and hope
So he worked like he'd never cease
Each has their way to cope
He worked long hours in the dock
Worked on each mighty ship
The demons in his dream would mock
They had him in their grip
In all he tried, all just went wrong
Each failure made him wild
His stocky body though so strong
His mind became a child
And inwardly he gazed upon
A pointless useless life
He's happy now he's dead and gone
He's gone to join his wife
I'd call him Uncle Arthur then
As all my siblings had
To me he'd been a perfect gem
He'd been a great Granddad
His deep sad eyes and his tall tales
Live on within my heart
It's love not hope that never fails
Though men die and depart
Fallen Poppy Petals
Pick a poppy and it will die
Or let it go though you may sigh
Perhaps, then place a lily wreath
Remembering who is there beneath
May be, then stand still in that place
And feel if they are touched by Grace
Plant more poppies let then grow
So future generations know
The past that they were taken through
And of the dead that they once knew
Pick a poppy and it will die
So let them grow, whilst you may sigh
Epilogue
The Public Records Office at Kew
After every action then
Reports were written up
They told of what we had done when
We'd drunk from out that cup
Reports prepared in triplicate
Was what they used to do
They keep the first and duplicate
The third must go to Kew
After thirty years or so
And for true history's sake
They are then put on public show
Though some may be a fake
For can a state so be candid
And show off all its shame
Who needs to know all that it did
Lies keep it safe from blame