Merton Court History

Able Seaman George Makins Davis

SN: 1/3028 Benbow Battalion Royal Navy Volunteer Reserve

Case file written by Ellie Grigsby

It is 1901, in Sidcup Kent, on the main road, and as the Davis’ sit perched at the dining table, as quite the sizeable family, with five boys and one girl, as well as Mr and Mrs Davis, their housemaid fetches them their dinner. The domestic cook has rustled them up quite the feast, in particular demand by Mr. Davis, who has had a trying day tending to all of his patients. One of their sons, George, (born on January 22nd, 1895) watches his father in adoration as he tends to the sick, bolstering his fiery ambition to mirror his father and study medicine too. By the next national census, of 1911, the Davis family are still prospering, living in a 12-room home, and George, having completed his primary education at Merton Court Preparatory went on to attend the prestigious, Merchant Taylor’s school. At 16 years old, medical student George was pursing his higher education. George had joined the Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve in 1912 and by doing so he swore his allegiance should Britain soon find herself engaged in war. Two years later, as the First World War erupted across the world stage, George had to leave behind his text books and dissection classes, to be fitted for his Royal Navy uniform as he rushed to colours becoming Able Seaman George Makins Davis of the Benbow battalion.

It was recognised by the Admiralty that there was an over-spilling surplus of men in the Royal Navy reserve who were unlikely to find a place on a ship and with the urgent need to supply manpower on land, it was decided to form two Royal Naval Brigades and one Royal Marine Brigade. The 1st Royal Naval Brigade was an infantry brigade that was assigned to the 63rd Royal Naval division. The Royal Naval Brigades, comprising of these surplus navy boys, were now required to tread on land. But dangerously, these men were woefully unprepared and undertrained for land warfare. This force consisted largely of 21-years’ service reservists; it was recorded that one platoon comprised of entirely of ‘pensioner sergeants…’ There was also a large number (about 700 men) with only a few days prior service armed with preciously little training. After the mighty fortress city of Liege fell to the Germans in the opening weeks of the war, Belgian King, Albert I, ordered the Belgian army’s remaining 65,000 soldiers in the region to retreat to the city of Antwerp, protected by the national redoubt, (rings of 48 inner and outer forts) and some 80,000 garrison soldiers. From Antwerp, Belgian forces conducted sorties in August and September, in hope to distract the German 1st army from its attacks against the British and French over the French frontier. Eventually, German Chief of Staff Helmuth Von Molke decided Antwerp needed to be captured and by September 28th, five German divisions began bombing the outer ring of forts at Antwerp’s south-eastern corner. The Belgian garrison had no chance of victory without relief. Heavyweight artillery bombardment, especially from the infamous ‘Big Bertha’: a 420mm siege howitzer gun, inflicted immediate impact arousing the deep concern of the British.

On October 1st, 1914, Winston Churchill, then First Lord of the Admiralty, called upon the government to provide urgent support at Antwerp as the position there was looking increasingly dangerous for the beleaguered Belgians. Acutely aware of the strategic importance of the city: control of the river Scheldt, as well as the Belgian coast for the Royal Navy was indispensable, and so Churchill managed a detachment of 2000 men arriving at Oude God (Vieux Dieu) by 01:00am on October 4th. They were the first of 8000 others who would arrive up to October 6th. But, as the 1st of October drew to a close, the first defence lines had already been pierced by the German attack, and several of the forts had been destroyed and lost whilst the city’s ground was so waterlogged it made it impossible for the Belgians to dig trenches for its protection. The Belgian infantry had fallen back to a line behind the river Nete. Enduring heavy losses, the Belgian 1st and 3rd divisions clung on to their Nete positions until the last possible moment, but withdrawal was inevitable considering the urgency of the circumstances. The German 1st Ersatz Brigade captured the banks of the Scheldt to the west of the city and two days later completed the capture of Schoonaarde. Losing this latter position was of enormous importance, as it threatened the coastal corridor and the route of the Belgian withdrawal.

Able Seaman Davis would have been transported from the port city of Ostend in London city buses commandeered for the war effort to support the Belgian defence at Antwerp, arriving to sheer panic. By October 6th, despite a larger British force of 22,000 reaching Ostend, the French decided to no longer send any soldiers, thus the British command hesitated in sending their own force further forward, and that same day, the Belgian government had evacuated the city; it signalled the beginning of the end.

By October 7th, as the advancing German forces bombarded the city, Belgian soldiers and her British allies struggled to resist the onslaught. It was soon realised Britain’s assistance came too late, and indeed her hesitation, held detrimental effect, meaning Belgian soldiers simply could not hold out any longer. On October 8th Antwerp was evacuated; General Victor Deguise, formally surrendered to the Germans on October 10th. The withdrawal was somewhat chaotic and there was some confusion. As thousands of refugees, fleeing their home moved in the same direction as the soldiers, there was congestion on the few roads leading north-west. It also made it impossible for signal runners to move back and forth between HQ and the front-line units with orders and instruction. As a result, Davis’ battalion’s evacuation was sluggish, which was nerve-wracking as the enemy was dangerously closing in but eventually they made their way to St. Gilles Waes, where a train had been sent to evacuate them. However, according to the war diary of the 1st Royal Naval Brigade: ‘information (was) received from the traffic authorities that trains were reported to be returning from the direction of (Moerbeke) and that the Germans had cut the line. This was followed by a message to the effect that the Germans were advancing the train.’ As the last exit in the direction of Bruges had been closed by the enemy, and the Germans’ were now attacking at Moerbeke just down the line, these dispirited, exhausted men were in no condition to fight. Besides the military defeat, and lack of ammunition and entrenching tools, at least 80% of the men were deficient of water bottles and their haversacks. Without basic rations (besides a very small portion of meat) and most importantly water to stay hydrated, these battle-weary soldiers were pushed to their limits of survival. It was ‘reluctantly decided,’ so the war diary states ‘to choose the only alternative to a surrender,’ and so the men were ordered to march across the Dutch frontier three miles to the north, where they were disarmed and interned.

As Davis and his battalion were interned officially in Holland on October 8thafter the forced retreat, the Germans commenced the civilian attack of the old city. The first shell fell in the southern suburb of Berchem, killing a young boy and wounding his mother and sister. As the shells whizzed and banged filled with shrapnel, designed to maim, kill, and frighten rather than destroy architecture, it warned for a mass civilian abandonment of the city. As buildings were ablaze, with the local fire brigades powerless to help as the Germans had captured the city’s water works, a strong wind fanned the flames as the old buildings burnt to the ground. Pitiful sights were presented to thousands of civilians and the armed forces as they fled from Antwerp. It was even reported that one shell took a street sweeper’s head off as he ran for shelter from the terrorism.

By the end of the siege of Antwerp, some 2,600 British soldiers were lost: despite the death toll being low for this standard of industrialised warfare at 7 dead officers and 50 men of other ranks, the losses were significant. Over 100 were wounded, nearly a thousand were taken as prisoners of war and around 1500 were interned in the Netherlands. German forces would occupy Antwerp for the duration of the war. This takes us to the next part of Davis’ wartime story: his internment for four years in the ‘English camp’ in Groningen.

During The First World War Holland’s political neutrality meant if you crossed into their territory they possessed the right to keep you contained for the duration of the conflict. This unique situation in Holland demanded the internees to acclimatise to a bizarre environment that was not imprisonment in the atypical sense, as well as digesting the factor they would not engage in warfare again but accepting their physical containment until a ceasefire. Davis was amongst the earliest batch of men who arrived in Holland, so we can use diary exerts from one of the internees (John Bentham) who described the first few months in the Rabenhaupt barracks at Groningen, for a helpful interpretation of life in the primary phase of Davis’ internment. Considering there was a total of 1500 internees at its peak in Holland, although this number is considerable it is not gigantic, and so it is most likely Davis and Bentham would have, if not known each other, at least briefly shared an encounter during those four years. Bentham described how he and his fellow ratings were the focus of attraction of fascination as ‘many civilians were watching’ their arrival. The Dutch Landstorm (older reservists of the Dutch army) closely guarded the new internees and the barracks showing them to their sleeping quarters which were ‘large dormitories with bunk-beds.’ We can picture Davis, cramped and hunched up on top of his wooden bunk, struggling to breathe at night as the air was reportedly ‘insufferably thick in those dorms.’ Bentham goes on to explain how they were an object of fascination and ‘large groups of people came to gawk’ at them through the fences. Bentham explains how he and his fellow internees felt quite like ‘monkeys in a zoo.’ Notably Bentham focuses on the monotonous nature of life in interment and how lack of mental stimulation and exercise opportunities were draining.

On January 18th, 1915, Davis and his fellow British sailors were transferred to a newly built barrack camp behind the then city jail (now the Van Mesdag clinic) where the parade grounds of the Rabenhaupt barracks were located. The camp was quickly nicknamed ‘English camp’ with the British sailors naming it ‘timber-town.’ Hawke, Benbow and Collingwood battalions’ each had a residential hut of 240 feet long and 58ft wide, heated by four burners with each barrack housing 500 inmates. Daily life in the camp was run along strict military lines: Davis had to rise at 06:30am with his first roll call at 08:45am, followed by distribution of chores and duties and daily route marches with the final roll call and lights out at 22:00pm, which was non-negotiable. Perhaps Davis was amongst the larger consensus of complaining English sailors who found Dutch food ‘too greasy’ and lacking in variety and so they implored to be able to cook their own meals, providing it did not exceed the permitted budget. For breakfast Davis would have eaten porridge with treacle, a piece of bread and butter and drank a cup of coffee. For lunch, fried meat or fish with potatoes and vegetables would have awaited Davis and finally, every evening for tea he was offered bread with a piece of cheese of ham, accompanied by a cup of tea. Considering the horror stories, we are well acquainted with, of men on the western front with stomachs full of nothing but bully beef and stale biscuits and even some weeks where rations simply could not break through to soldiers, Davis ate significantly well considering the world was at war. However, towards the end of the war, the Netherlands were hit by serious food shortages in fuel and food. Davis would have found himself at the receiving end of this. From April 1st, 1918 the bread rations of the internees were cut from 600 grams to 200 grams. Meat and other food stuff portions were reduced along similar lines which was substantial. The British wrote home complaining of their new-found lack of food and an article actually appeared in the ‘Morning Post’ featuring the internees of Holland who were apparently suffering from a ‘slow starvation’ at Groningen. This issue was raised in the House of Commons; in response, a Dutch government ministers argued an investigation showed that was no ‘real reason’ for complaint as food rations were indeed the same as the Dutch civilian population and Dutch servicemen adding the quality was as good as could reasonably be achieved under the current circumstances.

It was quickly realised by Dutch authorities that the monotonous nature of life in internment under Dutch control could prove a real threat to firstly morale, but essentially, the obedience of the men while accepting the supreme law when caught up in a country bound by its political neutrality. And so, many men were soon offered the chance to do things they never would have had the opportunity to do at home. The camp quickly and effectively became more or less a complete town, with its own facilities. These comprised of a large recreational hall, a post office, library space, an admin building, a washroom, gymnasiums, kitchen, sick-bay, and spaces for workshops. To stimulate the internees, courses were organised in foreign languages, navigation and book-keeping amongst others. Official examinations could actually be taken from 1916 onwards providing an opportunity to develop academically and business wise for employment post-war. This was a unique prospect to this form of ‘service.’ Fascinatingly, paid work was available. More than 80 internees were paid for arts and crafts, making photo frames and jewellery boxes, which were offered for sale in the UK and Holland. There was also a knitting group of 50 men who were keen to ‘do their bit’ and so were often seen knitting jumpers and socks for the Royal Navy helping to keep the fighting soldiers protected from the bitter elements overseas. Internees were also working as carpenters, writers, cooks, gardeners, nurses, hairdressers and tailors. It has been reported that Davis took his hand to scene painting for the dramatics club and at the time of his death, he held an appointment as a colour designer to a ‘famed’ tile factory in Delft.

A total of 35 clubs were established within the camp by 1918 including: sports, reading, cabaret and music which were offered to the internees, but there was an overwhelming preference for the football, athletics, tennis, cricket and boxing clubs. The sailors formed the ‘timbertown’ dramatics society often dressing up in costume, but if the prospect of theatrical dress was undesirable the option to take trips to the cinema was a regular occurrence. The Royal Naval Brigade football club association was formed to enable a competition with 3 leagues and hundreds of local men and women were spectators to those matches. Perhaps Davis was dressed in his football shirt and shorts running around the pitch in celebration as the local Dutch community sitting row upon row jeered as the British team scored a goal. Invited to play friendlies against well known Dutch teams, the sport acted as a leisurely invitation into their Dutch culture; this welcoming integration did extend to more than sport. An officially sanctioned opportunity was offered to meet the British every Sunday afternoon and so from 14:00-16:00pm, the whole camp was opened to the inquisitive public.   In those years, this was reportedly an incredibly popular, novel, ‘afternoon out’ for the whole family. It was a regular occurrence for the young British sailors to be invited and welcomed into the homes of the local community for a chat or a meal. It was too here, that city girls came into contact with their ‘English war heroes.’

By late 1914 the term ‘Khaki fever’ was circulating in reference to a so-called ‘epidemic’ that was said to have broken out across Britain. The terminology was coined to describe the reportedly high incidence of casual premarital sex between serving young men and the female youth who were said to be ‘smitten’ with men in uniform. Women behaving ‘dangerously’ for what the Victorian mentality was willing to digest was abruptly challenged as young women were out at night drinking alcohol, engaging in romantic ‘flings.’ This heightened public anxiety, as a sexual permissiveness exercised a freedom of behaviour that ignited a spread of moral panic. Although this phenomenon was a short-lived affair, the euphemism appeared in the Netherlands too. The English soldiers in internment were so popular with the local girls, that their jealous contemporaries from the city referred to an ‘English fever’ affecting the Dutch girls. Girls, alike those in Britain, were warned against consorting with the internees, but of course this made the idea of it all the more exciting and rebellious. Inevitably, engagements, marriages and babies followed, but many children were born outside of marriage which of course was then a form of ‘social suicide.’ But, importantly, what we see here, is an amalgamation of nationalities as a result of war. Perhaps Davis had a Dutch sweetheart that he met at the cinema of an evening whilst on night-time ‘shore leave’ and throughout his four years of internment was courting a young lady where they made plans of how to live their lives ‘after the war.’ Perhaps Davis told her all about England and the lovers planned a trip to Davis’ home once it was all over.

According to the 1907 legislation decided at the Peace Conference at the Hague, British officers interned in Holland were permitted by law to go on leave to the UK, but this did not extent to men of other ranks like Davis. This was generally regarded as grossly unfair and must have been a suffocating statute to these men. The Dutch Supreme Commander of the army, General C. J. Snijders was sympathetic to the home-sick contained British and granted home leave to an NCO, allowing him to go home to England on leave for two weeks to tend to his severely ill wife. Naturally, the request for ‘sick-leave’ grew considerably to the extent that by January 1917 about one quarter of the entire interned community were on home leave due to ‘illness of a close relative.’ Despite all of these requests having to be endorsed by British doctors it was learnt that the only way to get home, was by presenting a ‘sick’ relative. Eventually the British requested that the sick leave arrangements were converted legitimately into a general arrangement permitting each internee to go home on leave on a regulated basis. It was not until 1917 however was this sanctioned, and we know Davis was granted home leave from January 25th January 1917 until February 24th.

Travelling home to England was not without its perils for those on leave. In September 1916, a Dutch ship sailing to England was stopped by a German Navy vessel so they could check the onboard cargo. Ten internees (who were travelling in uniform as required), were captured on board, taken as prisoners of war, and removed to Germany. In 1917, further catastrophises struck whilst transporting men home: 3 internees died when their ship was torpedoed. Protests from the Dutch Government were to no avail as ultimately the Germans regarded them as enemy combatants and whilst outside of Dutch territory on land available for the taking. Davis must have been fraught with terror as he travelled home via boat that year, wondering if he would even survive the journey.

The outer ring of the camp was guarded 24 hours a day, surrounded by a double barbed wire fence which was illuminated at night. These relentless physical and visual reminders of confinement would have only enforced the all-encompassing sensation of powerless entrapment men like Davis were conditioned to. Although camp life was not gruesome or physically dangerous, it is important not to overstate how safe men felt in comparison to those fighting on the western front for instance. The psychological impact and disturbed sense of self-security replaced by a lost concept of autonomy while interned must have carried its own kind of mental torment. Significant interruption and changes were enforced on what one would consider normal routines of daily life as the chronic loss of free choice and lack of privacy succumbed to the externally imposed, stringent rules and routine. When the internees returned home after the armistice it is apt to argue men perhaps struggled to re-adjust to civilian life. In order to have psychologically survived internment one would have had to evolve. It is worth serious consideration that perhaps a sort of ‘post-incarceration syndrome’ after institutionalisation in Holland for so long would have been something many men battled with after becoming obsessively dependent on a routinised way of existing. Arguably incapability of adapting to this is reflected through the attempted escapes from Groningen. By December of 1914, 15 officers had escaped, seven of which (one dressed in women’s clothes) succeeded, but the rest were captured. By the end of internment, 37 men of other ranks managed to make it back to England. The Dutch sympathy for the British soldiers meant some guards were prepared to look the other way when an internee sneaked out of the camp proximity or provide transport for the fleeing sailors. As a consequence, a decree was issued on January 19th, 1915 making it a criminal offence to aid escapees. By May 1916 all escape attempts ceased when the British Government decided to return every internee to Holland; Britain had to respect the authority of Holland choosing to remain neutral. What is important to dissect here from discussing the escapees is that despite these servicemen not serving on the western front, they equally faced their own mental perils.

After returning from leave in February 1917, there are no further notes on Davis’ service record card until his entry of death in November 1918. Davis died in hospital in Bethel Oude Delft on November 2nd, 1918, just five days before the ceasefire. However, the military officials were not aware of this until the 6th. It was not until after the armistice, was Davis’ next of kin (his mother) informed of his death, on the 8th. As the armistice was declared and vast crowds gathered to celebrate the victorious end of the war, this joyous mood was not demonstrated by all. For hundreds of thousands of families, they had not experienced a great military triumph, but had irretrievably lost more than they could ever have imagined. As the radios announced the end of the war and mother, child, grandmother and grandfather ran from street to street telling their neighbours it was all over, no doubt Mrs. Davis was jubilant her son would come home. It was not until the following day was her world destroyed, still not knowing when her son had actually died. Davis’ military officials finally found out the date of death in hospital a week after the armistice which is when Mrs. Davis was also informed.

Davis’ service record card informs us he died of Influenza, which may have been the Spanish flu. Historians argue there has been a collective forgetting of the greatest massacre of the twentieth century which was the deadly Spanish flu. The Spanish flu infected one in three people on earth, or 500 million human-beings. The first recorded case, on March 4th, 1918, and the last sometime in March 1920, it killed somewhere between 50-100 million people; that equated to wiping out somewhere between 2.5-5% of the global population.  In terms of single events causing major loss of life, the Spanish flu surpassed The First World War death toll (est. 17 million) and The Second World War at an estimate of 60 million. Autumn of 1918 was when the second and worst wave of the pandemic struck which would provide a plausible point for Davis’ contracting Spanish flu and his time of death as most of the death occurred in the 13 weeks between mid-September and mid December 1918. The Spanish flu re-sculpted human populations more radically than anything since the Black Death but instead of a collective remembrance of a historical disaster, Laura Spinney argues we see private tragedies discretely remembered by millions.

Images believed to be of Bethel hospital in Oude Deflt, where Davis died:

Four days after the armistice, 900 British, former internees left for home via Rotterdam. Another 300 were already on leave in the UK anyway. The group of men who were working outside the camp left a little later. Commodore Henderson remained behind (in the camp) with 50 men until December 19th, 1914 until everybody had secured their evacuation home. As of January 1st, 1919, the internment depot Groningen, officially ceased to exist. As sweethearts and wives flooded the ports to desperately welcome home their loved one, the Davis family knew they would never embrace George again.  George was not buried (where he is now buried in the Hague General Cemetery), until February 11th, 1921, over two years post his death.

For more than 730 mornings, Mr and Mrs Davis had to wake up to a new day reminded their precious son was still alone and not yet laid to rest.