It has been a great diplomatic shock to find that the Peruvian Embassy has been taken from Woodcutts. There was obviously some worry that this would happen when Tim moved his Inca Alpaca Stud. It is a great cultural loss, too, that the community here suffered, and we shall miss the ambassador who was, incidentally, an Australian. The diplomatic world moves in very mysterious circles!
However life must go on, and as I write we are into our third day without rain, which must be a record for this summer. I feel really sorry for the arable farmers who still have acres of corn to cut. The wheat price is down and falling to below £100/tonne, and is likely to fall lower as the quality of the wheat cut is of low bushel weight, poor milling quality and in some cases badly sprouted in the ear due to the high rainfall. If you want to feel sorry for these farmers, now is the time to do so. They not only have to contend with their own market conditions but also those of Europe generally where there has been an above average harvest.
It is not only the farmers’ crops that are affected, those of the hedgerows aren’t much better either. There may be a lot of blackberries about for example, but generally they are smaller than usual and very uneven ripening. I have been hoping for some sunshine so that I can pick some better quality ones to make some blackberry wine, but I think I am just going to have to take a chance and pick regardless. The same applies to elderberries, which make my favourite wine, but these have ripened so unevenly, with the birds taking the ripe ones before the green ones change colour in the same bunch. Again I am going to have to make do and pick regardless, but as with grapes harvested under less than perfect condition, the resultant wine suffers.
While talking about elderberries, I must mention a few facts about the elder tree generally. It never grows very big, but big enough for Judas to have hanged himself upon it, hence its name in Kent, the Judas Tree. In some folklore it is said to be the wood that the cross was made on which Jesus was crucified. It also has many connections with witchcraft, and despite the fact that it grows like a weed it was very important to the Celts. It likes to grow in damp places, where there is a high nitrogen content in the soil, so it is often found in hedgerows around old cottage gardens, because the old cottagers didn’t have SHReD to take their garden waste away, so they put it under the hedge to rot down. They are also found around old farm buildings particularly near to where old muck heaps were. The elder in the past was known in Dorset as God’s Stinking Tree, as it was thought to be a tree of death, or was it because it was next to the muck heap? Whatever, I can put up with that, as its berries make a very fine wine in my book.
Now, what else is happening in the countryside at the moment? Certainly, the swallows are gathering to prepare to fly south for the winter. This morning, (15th. September) I counted over thirty on the telephone wires in Gussage St. Andrew. Where on earth did they congregate before the coming of the telephone and electric lines? Here at home we had a brood of swallows that only flew the nest a fortnight ago; it doesn’t give them much time to prepare for their flight to Africa. In The Telegraph last week there was a picture of fledglings in a nest - the third brood - how on earth they are going to be ready in time for migration, goodness knows! The weather conditions have a lot to answer for.
The weather has seriously affected the butterflies too. They only appeared on the days the sun shone; it certainly didn’t give them much time to feed and lay eggs this year. The Brimstones, for example, are usually the first to appear - this year very few were about until August, while Red Admirals, Peacocks and Lesser Tortoiseshells have been practically non existent. The one variety that is in fairly high numbers is the cabbage white and we could do without them. I did see a large number of Marbled Whites this year in mid summer and over the last few weeks there have been Meadow Browns and Speckled Woods, but all in all, things have not been good for butterflies this year. As I look out through the kitchen window I can see two Brimstones on the flowers under the apple trees, but two butterflies don’t make a summer. In fact it hasn’t been a good year for anything or anybody, except for the slugs and snails - they are about in their thousands! Goodness knows what the potato crop is going to be like when it is lifted this autumn. There will also be a problem with the autumn sown cereals and oil seed rape unless huge quantities of slug pellets are used. These, of course, cost money and farmers who will be strapped for cash because of this harvest won’t be in a position to pay out for them. What it means over all, is higher and higher food prices for all of us.
I can’t finish on a low note, so I must mention our apple crop. It is the best we have had on the trees planted some eight years ago. Now we must hope for a couple of good weeks to ripen them off so that they store well. There is nothing better than eating your own apples at Christmas.
On that note I will wish you good-bye until next time. Thank you for reading to the end and God bless you.
Royal Defence Corps
Formerly {21488} 12th Reserve Regiment of Cavalry
On the 1st April, 1910, an intake of 207 Sea Cadets reported to the Kriegsmarine barracks at Kiel to begin six weeks of intensive training in drill and basic infantry skills. Among the intake, and one who would prove to be amongst the keenest, and with soon recognised leadership potential, was Robert Heinrich Ramm, a 20-year old from the village of Klein Daberkow in the State of Mecklenburg and north of the railway that runs from Neubrandenburg to the port of Szczecin. In size, Robert’s village in 1910 was smaller than Sixpenny Handley.
Eight years later and now promoted to the rank of Oberleutnant and in command of the U-boat UB-123, Ramm was making slow passage through the Irish Sea, his crew no doubt looking forward to returning home from a patrol that had taken them north of the British Isles and out into the vast expanse of the Atlantic Ocean before running south and slipping into the Irish Sea. By approximately 9 a.m. on the morning of October 10th, 1918, UB-123 was lurking a few miles off Dublin and in a sea area that was constantly patrolled by Royal Navy destroyers. However, during the past 24-hours storm force winds had lashed the area forcing the navy to withdraw its ships towards Anglesey and the shelter of Holyhead harbour. Thus, hull down in a choppy sea and keeping a wary lookout Ramm caught sight of a smudge of telltale black smoke in the direction of Kingstown Harbour.
Since first light the crew of the Royal Mail Steamer Leinster, registered to the City of Dublin Steam Packet Company, had been busy with the myriad of duties that preceded each sailing; passengers were embarked, the mail and the sorting staff came aboard, checks were made on the ships life rafts while below decks the engine room staff attended to the procedures that would bring the Leinster’s propulsion units into life. Overseeing this busy scene was the ship’s master, Captain William Birch, then 61-years of age and from his photograph the archetypal sea captain with his weathered face framed by a trim dark beard. Although Dublin born and married, he had settled his family on Anglesey and now, undoubtedly, he was looking forward to making the familiar crossing to Holyhead and a reunion with his family.
With his officers reports to hand and satisfied that all the pre-sailing checks had been completed, Birch gave the order to cast off and a few minutes before 9 a.m. the Leinster slipped her lines, a deep reassuring rumble from her engines as she edged away from Carlisle Pier. Slowly and with her bows pointing towards the open sea those on board with duties to occupy them settled into the routine of what should be a familiar passage to Anglesey.
In total the Leinster was carrying 771 souls of which the majority were military personnel [493], including Private William Thomas Chaldecott formerly of the 12th Reserve of Cavalry but now assigned to the Royal Defence Corps. William was among a very mixed bag of servicemen representing units of the United Kingdom, Commonwealth and Dominion forces plus a sprinkling of American army personnel.
Amidships were 22 civilian postal workers already busy in sorting the sacks of mail that had been brought to the mailroom within the last couple of hours. Although the gale force winds had abated the air had a very distinct autumn chill which, as the ship cleared the protection of the shore, left only a few hardy passengers on the upper deck gazing at the spume whipped up from the passing waves. In the upper works the look-outs equipped with their binoculars maintained a silent vigil, sweeping back and forth as the ship held to its near due east course.
Roughly an hour after her departure the Leinster was off the Kish Bank when either a lookout or one of the passengers sighted the wake of a torpedo approaching the vessel from the port side. But before any action could be taken, the missile sped ahead of the bows and was lost to sight. However, any thoughts that this may have been a single shot were dispelled within seconds when a gout of water accompanied by a massive explosion leapt skywards from amidships. The Leinster had been struck a mortal blow and though the wheelhouse was able to respond to Captain Birch’s order to come about the vessel's end was nigh. In the area of the post sorting room the carnage was awful for when the torpedo struck the blast was such that a sizeable hole was ripped out of the starboard side and this was followed by an overwhelming surge of sea water flooding the compartment from which only one man escaped with his life.
Meanwhile, with engines slowing the Leinster completed her turn through 180 degrees but her bows were now well down and the command to lower lifeboats was given.
This frantic activity was being witnessed by Oberleutnant Ramm who now ordered the firing of a third torpedo for though he could see that his victim’s bows were low in the water there was still a chance that the ship might be able to reach the nearest beach and thus be salvaged. With the Leinster barely making way the coup de grace was administered and it was in the detonation of this third missile that the majority of fatalities occurred.
As well as the observations of Ramm, the alarm had been raised ashore and, it is recorded, a fleet of 200 ambulances were hurrying to Victoria Wharf.
From those survivors already in the water come reports of seeing the ship wreathed in smoke and flame and settling bow first. Now came the battle for their survival; the lucky ones were in the few lifeboats that had been launched but many, including William Birch, were in the cruel sea, their limbs rapidly being cramped by the bitter cold. Some were dragged into the lifeboats but the sea state was such that it was becoming difficult to see anyone who was still swimming or clinging to the flotsam that littered the surface. For several agonising hours rescue boats out from the nearby ports scoured the wind swept waters for survivors but to little avail and it is now believed that at least 529 of the 771 passengers and crew perished that bleak October day in 1918. Captain William Birch was found but as he was being lifted from the sea so his life ebbed away.
For the remainder of the day a steady stream of both large and small boats returned to Dublin carrying pitiful cargoes of injured passengers and crew. Some were able to be released almost immediately to local hotels, but many were taken to St. Michael’s Hospital where they were received by teams of doctors and nurses. But, as was to be expected, the dead outnumbered the living and in the days that followed, as more bodies were washed ashore, funeral services were held in many towns and villages along Ireland’s east coast. The largest concentration of burials, all military, took place in Dublin’s Grangegorman Military Cemetery where 144 were laid to rest.
The loss of the Leinster was, without doubt, one of the heaviest losses of life at sea during the Great War. Awful though it was Ramm had done his duty and thus satisfied he resumed his northerly course.
Nine days [some sources say eight] after the sinking, by which time the next of kin of those who perished had either been informed, or soon would be, UB-123 came to an area in the North Sea known to the Allies as the Northern Barrage and which had been heavily mined. For Ramm and his crew, believed to number 35 in total, their passage through this dangerous stretch of water was never completed. The time is not recorded and in the official list of U-boat losses merely a single word marks their demise “mined”.
One month after these twin tragedies the terrible conflict that had engulfed the major powers of Europe [and latterly the United States of North America] for the past four years came to an end.
Not a town or city and, it is thought, only a handful of hamlets and villages across the length and breadth of the United Kingdom escaped the consequences of four bitter years of slaughter. Thus the community of Sixpenny Handley and its immediate surrounds had much to mourn for as recounted in my first profile published in the August 2004, issue of The Downsman, 23 would lay down their lives. For Arthur Chaldecott, described in the 1901 Census as a Journeyman & Baker residing at Pentridge, and his wife Selina the war had cost them the heartache of losing not only two of their five sons but in 1915, Albert Chaldecott died at the early age of 16 [there were two daughters from the marriage, Dorothy May and Agnes].
To the best of my knowledge, William’s body was never recovered [he is not listed among the 144 service burials in Grangegorman Military Cemetery] and his name is commemorated in perpetuity on the Hollybrook Memorial at Southampton.
And so the years slipped past and come September 1939, Great Britain was again at war with Germany. Arthur would not live to witness a second victory for he died in March 1942, at the age of 72, survived for the next four years by his widow Selina. Both are buried in St. Mary’s Churchyard, their funerals being conducted by the Reverend W J James and E H Edwards respectively.
Postscript: I am indebted to Josephine whose grandmother, Florence, was Arthur Chaldecott’s younger sister. I also acknowledge the official web site dedicated to the loss of the RMS Leinster from which I have been able to construct my narrative of events.
Well, it is some time since we updated you and we have loads to tell you!
Firstly, the District Camp in May where, along with the Cubs and Beavers, we took the other Scout Groups to task by firstly winning the ‘Wide Game’ which meant chasing round looking for leaders with either postcards, stamps or pens to sign the postcards with, then posting as many postcards as possible. The prize went to the Group with the best average which, of course, was Mighty, Mighty Woodcutts!! The second task was a bit more of a challenge, but with a well thought-out design, some clever Scout engineering and a little fine tuning involving paper towels and some cooking oil we again won. The ‘Rocket’ was fired along a line as far as possible whilst getting it through a paper target. Our answer – plumbing tube, wire for the line and a very, very big elastic band! See, we do think it through. The Scouts also got to canoe, climb and abseil, archery, orienteering and as part of the camp fire songs Rob, Si and Kellie provided a fire juggling, Fire Poi demonstration all capped off with a fire eating act!
In June, a group of Scouts and Explorers managed a morning's climbing at Dancing Ledge near Swanage followed by one of Andy’s ‘short’ walks along the coastline. Many thanks to Julia and Chris Stokes who made sure we got there and back safely - and they had a go at climbing! The walk was finished off with well earned ice cream in Worth Matravers.
With grateful thanks to the East Dorset Community Trust for a grant of £800 towards tents, cookers, tables and chairs, we were soon looking forward to our Summer Camp. This was in the Peak District, Derbyshire and was, hopefully, going to be without the rain. So, at the end of August, 18 Scouts and Explorers with 7 leaders and 1 very enthusiastic Group Scout Leader (Skip - first time in too many years to mention but....) set off. We also had Willow and Nick along to provide the cooking expertise to ensure we ate well and together with a mountain of cakes and buns from Dee and several parents and guardians, these would see us through the 'in-between' meals. Thank you to everyone for these special treats.
So, in two minibuses and a car full of kit we set off northwards to the Hope Valley which we all hoped had dried out by the time we arrived. We arrived just in time for tea and, of course, a rain shower! Not all that bad though, as we did have a hut to retreat into while we ate and planned our first outing. Rob had heard that the Tinsley Cooling towers next to the M1 were being blown up at 3.00 am. Andy gave us the choice of a 7 mile walk on the Sunday or stay up late and watch the towers being blown up. That took some thinking about but, of course, the towers won! We were woken around midnight and headed off to the Meadow Hall shopping centre, about an hour away. We had to wait nearly two hours, but this flew past, especially with the nightlife on show around us! Finally, the horns were sounding off, we looked towards the towers and - bang, bang - that was it – a massive puff of smoke and they were gone – well, nearly - we could see a spike of concrete as we left. So it was back to our campsite, arriving about 4.30 am and off to bed until lunchtime.
Sunday – we were up in time for brunch - sausage, eggs, baked beans and toast - before continuing on our programme, which was a trip down a Blue John cave where we encountered witches’ shadows as well as sheep, ostriches and more than a few stalagmites and stalactites plus some really unusual spiders on the way out. Once back out in the open we took a short walk up Mam Tor (the shivering mountain). It was cold and windy but, hey, this is up North! Some of us even thought we had left England!!! From here we saw all the hills and valleys we would be encountering over the coming week.
Monday was an easier day as all of us had had a good night’s sleep, catching up on Saturday. We visited Abbeydale Industrial Hamlet, which is a restored factory & museum of the Sheffield steel industry. Here they produced scythes right from smelting iron ore through to the sharpening on millstone grit wheels powered by giant water wheels. The museum also gave an insight into how the workers and owners lived, with a ‘2 up 2 down’ cottage and the owner’s house both furnished as they would have been in the 1800s. Following a short Diabalo demonstration from Rob and Preed outside the shop, we headed off into the hills for lunch and onto Hathersage. This village had two unique things for us; Little John’s grave, and of course we had to get a picture of Big Bosie lying next to the grave to see how big he was, allegedly! The most fun for all of us was an open air swimming pool. The water is a constant 80 degrees C. That was great, except for the wind blowing across the pool!! A camp is not a camp unless we have a Fish’n’Chip supper and tonight was the night - we were all soon tucking into fish’n’chips back at our campsite - a great day.
Tuesday was different again, with a 12 mile cycle ride around the Ladybower reservoirs – the Dambuster Dams. We split into 3 groups, fast, fastish and ‘we’ll get there’! The last group included Skip who was a little cautious about setting off but was by no means the last back, proving that the hare is not always the quickest and does it really matter if you get there anyhow? The ride was a mixture of road and tracks with some ‘fun’ bits for those who wanted a little more. Preed did get a puncture and was overtaken by the last group in the first half of the circuit although it did end up with Preed being in the first three back so he did make up for it later. It was then down to below the Derwent Reservoir dam wall for lunch. This was in a large open field which prompted some games, with a group funny walk which ended in heap, through to integrated Leap Frogging which had us all in stitches – not literally, although maybe a few bruises where you did not expect. For the second half of the day Preed, Big Bosie, Si and Nick ran an assault course competition which involved each team getting across the obstacle course as quickly as possible with two pans full of water - the quickest, with the least amount of water lost, would be winners – you had to be there to see it! The points for this were added to the 75 Bands photo competition run the night before which Tent 3 won so with the scores for the assault course added it was still tent 3 leading but how would this end?
Wednesday had everyone talking as we were off to Meadow Hall, this time to go inside and shop! Each tent had a leader with them for safety along with a treasure hunt to complete. We had 2 hours to complete the hunt and then meet for lunch. Where was Starbucks? Is there a Disney Shop? What is the weirdest toy you can buy? Plus more questions and tasks to take us around the complex. It’s a mile long so will 2 hours be enough? The answer was, ‘yes’. Time in the complex is by the pound and not the mile!! We all met up as arranged and had our completed hunt questionnaires checked. We got the sugars – brown and white, napkins and the weirdest toy which ranged from false chest hair to a voodoo husband doll – hey, I know which one I would choose. So it was lunchtime. Normally we have a picnic but today was different. We had to eat in the food hall – so much to choose from. Each of us was given £5.00 and sent off to buy our meals. We all sat together eating Kentucky, Burger King, Chinese, Spud-u-like whilst watching the videos on the 40 foot TV wall – heaven. After lunch Andy asked us all to follow him to see a better view and he ran off upstairs, eh? When we got to the top he asked us all to stand next to the person we wanted to see the view with, eh? He then gave each of us a ticket to Vue Cinema for Hell Boy 2!! The leaders had this planned for weeks and did not let on, so off we went to watch the film. What a day.
Thursday was THE adventure day, a trip down south to near Matlock for rock climbing, caving and scrambling. You had to complete two of the three and it was your choice. A group stayed at the Black Rocks for the morning scrambling, whilst a group headed off climbing and the others went down a disused Lead Mine. Three hours later we all arrived back at Black Rocks to share stories about what we had all done and then go off for our second adventure – scary stuff but all great fun. Tea tonight (we’re up T’ North and yer ave dinner at t’dinner time lad!) was a BBQ, home made burgers, sausages, vegetable kebabs and Bakewell Pudding from ‘ye original Bakewell Pudding Shoppe’ yum! Some were heard to say, ‘I don't like that’, but still managed a second helping! The evening activity was another competition which was a quiz run by Rob. Again, Tent 3 won but as the points were based on questions answered it meant that the week’s competition was up for grabs by any tent.
Friday was back outdoors, boots on, waterproof packed just in case and we headed off for a short walk. Each tent team set off to walk over Carl Wark and Higger Tor, two small hills about a mile away. Rob and Andy headed off for the final food buy and would meet up with us for lunch (t’dinner). An hour later saw Andy back on Carl Wark, helping Preed, Hannah and Si pull Alice’s foot out of a hole – actually it was her leg and more of a cave! But thankfully everyone, the whole group, kept their heads and did the right thing, staying calm, getting help and working together; we all then completed the walk to the mini buses. No harm done, just a few muddy shirts and a story to tell - oh yeah, and confirmation that Alice will probably stick to riding horses!! Lunch proved to be entertaining with the locals – a small group of sheep - who had developed a taste for anything other than grass. Strange, everyone ate lunch a bit quicker than normal that day. We then headed onto the top of Stanage Edge. This gave us a chance to look back at the view we had from Mam Tor on the Sunday, only six days ago but we had done so much. Here, Rob tested each tent team's map reading knowledge as part of the week’s competition – who would win? The last surprise of the day was to walk through a natural cave which became a balcony half way up the cliff face. Back from the walk, we packed all the tents and our kit, loaded them onto the minibuses. Using tarpaulins we put up sleeping shelters for the last night, this meant we did not have to dry the tents out – and yes, it did not rain all week!!! With the shelters set up, fire alters were lit and the mega chicken cook-off began. The week had been a lot of fun for everyone and we intended to finish off in that way, and seven chickens spatch-cocked and seasoned were eagerly awaited along with salads, bread and corn on the cob.
We gathered around the fire for camp songs and prize giving – the tent prize was close right up to the last event with Tent 1 led by Preed coming first, closely followed by Tents 3 and 2. Jess proved over the week that she was more than worthy of best Scout on camp. Finally, the singing could begin. Skip gave a rendition of Black Bird and we all had our own verses to ‘Quartermasters Stores’ and ‘You’ll Never Get to Heaven’, but the last song had to be ‘Mighty, Mighty Woodcutts’!
A BIG THANK YOU to all who helped this happen; the committee, Akela manning the emergency line, Scout families and most of all the Scouts and Explorers who made it a successful summer. So whether it’s a week in the Peak District, on the Dorset Coast or as part of a District camp you can certainly say Woodcutts is MIGHTY MIGHTY!!
We are now starting our autumn programme with a trip to Brownsea, joint Halloween and Christmas Parties being planned, night walks as well as the Fireworks display, Remembrance Day and a load more fun.