Second Lieutenant William Alfred Layton Robinson
Dan Hill’s research, edited by Ellie Grigsby
On July 25th, 1897, baby William Alfred was baptised by Reverend H.M French at St. Andrews church in Stoke Newington. Four years after his birth, William, and his parents, Edward and Mary, can be found on the 1901 National Census which reveals more about the family at the very start of the 20th century. The 20th century was remarkable; with evolution running through its veins, opening with the death of Queen Victoria - her demise triggered a slow unravelling of the era’s traditional and rigid cultural, social and political attitudes. Momentarily isolating the world wars: rewriting generations’ of genealogy, the 20th century is definable by ‘war.’ Conflicts of emotion, attitude, religion, challenged taboos, politics, conceptual ideas of gender, an evolution of consciousness and growing voices and protest, wrote the 20th century. From the census we can gather that William was an only child and the family employed a general servant, evidently affording a life of certain affluence as William’s father’s occupation was an architect. We know that at some point between 1901-07 the family moved home to live in Foots Cray, where William’s sister Joyce was born on May 2nd, 1907. During this time, we believe William was attending Merton court school building upon his education. Four years on, we can see that the family seem to have moved once more, this time living in ‘Southwood,’ a 10-room property in Sidcup. The family were then employing an additional two servants, including a governess who would have tutored both William (then 13) and Joyce (3), to enrich their educations. It appears Robinson senior had changed profession and was then acting accountant for a timber broker.
When the war broke out, William was at the tender age of 17-years-old. We know that Robinson had enrolled in the prestigious Hertfordshire based Haileybury college in late 1911 and that he remained there until 1915. (in 1915 Robinson won the competition for the army bugle in 1915, the then highest honour for sergeants of cadets). At 17 years of age when war erupted across the world stage, Robinson would have been just under the legal age requirement to serve overseas and so it appears he pursed his education until he was of age. Upon leaving Haileybury, in July of 1915, Robinson engaged in Officer training with the Inns of Court. By November of the same year he is mentioned by name in the London Gazette as a reserve officer of the Royal West Surrey (Queens) regiment, later holding the rank of Second Lieutenant. By analysis of Robinson’s surviving medal index card we can see that the first theatre of war he served in was France and his date of entry therein was May 12th, 1916. By ascertaining this important date we can now turn to the records relating to the Queens Royal West Surrey regiment of the British Army, specifically that of the 11th battalion (the battalion Robinson was attached to). Records indicate that the 11th Queen’s were formed in Lambeth in June of 1915 and were involved in training in the UK until travelling abroad in May of 1916 to join the 41st division. Robison did not travel with the battalion when it left Southampton on May 3rd, 1916, but for some unknown reason, followed suit around a week later joining his men in the field, as they began the task as a completely new battalion, of learning how to survive modern industrialised trench warfare. (At this time, the battalion numbered around 30 officers with the support of around 1000 men of other ranks). Surviving war diaries are invaluable when attempting to gather an insight into what life would have been like for Robinson as he first stepped across battle torn soil.
If we work from May 12th as our starting block, from then until the 29th the regimented order of the battalion consisted of parties of officers and NCOs proceeding to trenches for courses of around 2 days, to give them short bursts of experience. The determination of soldiers to keep fighting could be strongly influenced by the regularity of trench rotation and so it seemed the battalion were being gently eased into ‘trench-life.’ By 2pm the battalion left for ‘Le Bizet’ arriving here safely at 20:00pm, without any opposition which was reportedly feared ‘owing to the Germans having exposed placards in the vicinity to the effect hat they were aware of the coming relief.’ For the first four days of the month, every available man was employed in working parties working on the various means of approach from principally ‘Border avenue,’ ‘Barkenham avenue’ and ‘Smyth avenue.’ A private died whilst on of these working parties and two were wounded. By the 5th, relief was provided for the 10th Royal West Kent regiment, the transition began at 18:10pm, and was complete by twenty past midnight. The following day was a ‘quiet one’ for Robinson and the battalion, although subjected to a ‘little’ sniping at night. One soldier was killed and one wounded, cementing the very real possibility that even attempting to sneak a peek over the parapet thinking you would be quick enough (something soldiers genuinely believed they could do), or to light a fire to warm up your tea allowing even the smallest amount of steam to billow up to the sky would give away your position, risking death. By the 10th, trench-life for Robinson became intense as a retaliation bombardment from the enemy on the ‘Glasgow redoubt’ with ‘aerial torpedoes’ and ‘16 pounders’ would have shaken the ground beneath Robinson’s feet. Later that day at around midnight, a party from Robinson’s battalion discovered tunnelling operations undertaken by the enemy which was suspected. Curiously, the tunnels were discovered unguarded and so men from Robinson’s battalion, blew it. The following day the men were relieved from the front and had a period of four rest days. By the 14th the diarist is sure to mention the minor but crucial detail of ensuring all clocks were changed by an hour in-keeping with the season of summer’s sun-light hours. By the evening Robinson and his men were back in the trenches. If we jump four days to the 18th, we are welcomed to grasp the concept of trench work done under the cover of night-fall. During the night the enemy wire would be examined. Wiring parties from here on were dispatched nightly for observations of the wire. After an increase in enemy sniping over the next few days, we learn that 4 snipers were discovered and ‘disposed of’ by Robinson’s battalion snipers.
The 24th June would have been a terrifying day for Robinson. As the day-time was ‘quiet’ it was to draw to a close with a traumatic event. At around 20:35pm the enemy bombarded a section of the trenches on the line, again with aerial torpedoes and many rifle grenades which actually ‘demolished’ a part of the trench front and the observation post on ‘Monmouth house.’ Several of Robinson’s comrades, were buried alive under the flying debris. These soldiers were dug out, but this would have taken some time considering they were still under heavy fire. The relief also took longer than normal as the relieving party were reportedly ‘demoralised’ from the sights they had seen there. (Therefore the relief was not complete until 02:20am). We can dare to imagine as Robinson watched and heard his men screaming for help as they thrashed about under the fallen debris, feeling trapped by the mounds of earth above them hearing the smashing and banging of the ubiquitous shell fire, dreading a direct hit as they lay struggling to breath in darkness. Robinson would have been pushed to his physical and emotional limits here trying to survive and protect his men. The attack evoked so much fear that ‘D Coy’ remained behind in the trenches at ‘Glasgow Redoubt’ until the morning to act as additional support in case of another attack. D Coy were back in billets with the rest of their comrades by 06:00am. During the bombardment, Robinson and his men retaliated for 25 minutes with a bombardment on enemy trenches but so much damage was already done. 8 were killed and 6 wounded, with tens more most probably then suffering with their mental health post-attack. For the month of June, 3 officers were killed, 16 men of other ranks, and 33 were wounded. By July 8th, Robinson and his men would have all suffered a disappointing blow as a planned attack with explosives, to raid the German trenches, was unsuccessful. By the 23rd, Robinson would have welcomed 5 more ‘brother officers’ to the trenches as reinforcements arrived. From the 18th up until the end of the month, considerable damage was suffered to the parapets from enemy artillery, whilst there was activity in the neighbourhoods of ‘Covent’ and ‘Glasgow Redoubt’ arousing much concern. By the end of July, a further 4 officers were wounded, 4 were evacuated due to sickness, 14 were killed of other ranks and a huge 47 wounded, with 21 sick. By the start of August in the first instance, Robinson and his men were relived, and in billets in ‘Le Bizet’ once more where after just one days rest, working parties were continuing to execute what we are only told to be ‘important work’ in ‘Ploegsteert’ under supervision of the Royal Engineers. By the 9th perilous shelling with 5.9inch shells raining down killed another 10 and wounded 20 more. By the 18th, Robinson and his men were on the move. The battalion proceeded by march routes to billets at ‘Fountaine Houck’ where there five farmhouses awaiting the battle-weary soldiers. For the next 6 days, the battalion spent their time performing routine marches and training in athletics, to, as the diarist puts it: ‘make the men fit after their tour of the trenches.’ On the 24th, the battalion proceeded by train from ‘Bailleul station’ at 02:30am to ‘Long Prs’ arriving at ten in the morning After spending the night in billets, the next day, rigorous training in the attack was commenced. Special attention being placed to the inculcation of the offensive spirit. Unsurprisingly, ‘going over the top’ was a terrifying experience for most soldiers. Yet it was rare, that men disobeyed the order to attack when considering the majority numbers, most WWI soldiers were, generally compliant. Conventionally, the authorities believed, or perhaps hoped, that men were motivated by a loyalty to the crown; united through an ideology of patriotism. This emotive concept, of focusing on protecting their families and loved ones; fulfilling their roles as protectors and staying loyal to the King and Empire, could keep spirits high through long spells of front-line service. But, once under intense enemy fire, some men’s psyches’ needed more than fanciful ideals to maintain their commitment and courage on the battlefield. This is why training consisted not only on building physical strength and engaging in often violent enactments by shouting and being exuberantly aggressive to feel a little less bombarded when thrust into the middle of chaos during an active operation but focus on the ‘fighting spirit’ was understood as crucial. The insistence of impressing the idea onto the soldiers that morale was essential was seen as categorically important. The lecture Robinson and his comrades would have attended would have perhaps heavily focused on their bonds as comrades above all’ giving them something to fight for, to protect one another in that moment, as opposed to thinking of the King hundreds of miles away.
By the start of September 1916, Robinson and his men had left Belgium and found themselves moving towards the Somme, where the largest battle of the war to date, was taking place. From the war diaries we can ascertain that the battalion were engaged in their first ‘over the top’ active operation in the form of a support role, at the battle of ‘Flers-Courceletter’ on September 15th/16th. Orders were received verbally for Robinson’s battalion to move forward to consolidate the position around ‘Flers’ which had been won by the 124th brigade during the day. Digging in to the left of the Anzacs and the right of the 10th Durham light infantry, with the aid of a company of the 23rd Middlesex regiment, the trenches were completed by the night of the 15th. On the morning of the 16th, the enemy began to shell Flers heavily with ‘guns of all calibres’ as Robinson and his men had to hold the line. They were relieved the following evening. The 11th Queens’ remained on the Somme sector until the middle of October 1916 when they were withdrawn and returned to the Ypres Salient. Noteworthy of the records documenting this time period, although the battalion were not engaged in major offensive operations, on the Somme they were continually rotating at the front and lost many men to ‘trench attrition’ through artillery and sniping. There is no official documentation that Robinson was wounded during this period, although certainly not, unaffected. However, a surviving but crumbling newspaper clipping held within the school’s archives states that Robinson was indeed wounded at the Somme and for two months received care at King’s College hospital. The newspaper goes on to state he of course returned to his regiment once recovered, unfortunately no specific dates are given.
By 1917, the 11th Queens’ found themselves back in the same locations that they had occupied when they had first arrived on the Western front. Now significantly more experienced, Robinson and his comrades were again engaged in holding front line positions, but they had now been put forward to play an instrumental role in the summer’s upcoming battle. Fought between 31st July and 10th November 1917, the Third Battle of Ypres - which later became known as Passchendaele - was one of the bloodiest battles on the Western Front, with both sides suffering significant losses. The Commonwealth War Graves Commission offers a short narration on Passchendaele:
‘The battle was a major offensive led by the British Army, intended to break out of the Salient and put the German Army under intolerable pressure. Like the Somme Offensive of 1916, it consisted of several individual battles or phases. By the end of the battle, around 500,000 soldiers across both sides were wounded, killed or missing. Fought under terrible conditions, often in a muddy quagmire, it has come to epitomise the horrors of the Western Front.’
In order for to push forward with the third battle of Ypres, an area of high ground, just south of Ypres first had to be captured. This area was known as the ‘Messines Ridge.’ Fearing the difficulties of assaulting uphill (the advantageous position to the aggressor was always on high ground) against well-fortified German positions meant the British high command had to think carefully. They decided upon an unusual strategy: digging a vast series of mines under the ridge and detonating them all simultaneously to then follow with a swift bombarding infantry assault.
Fantastically the battalion records documenting the 11th Queens’ first major assault have survived. From here we can absorb an overview of what happened to Robinson and his men in June of 1917. On June 5th, it was midnight, and by now the battalion were marching by companies from ‘Alberta Camp’ to the assembly area where it occupied a position in ‘Old French Trench.’ At this point, the strength of the battalion in the line was 17 officers and 550 men of other ranks. The men were stationed here until moving on (midnight on the 7th) to ‘tapes laid out behind (their) front line… a front of about 220 yards.’ On their right was the 10th Royal West Kent regiment and on their left, the 8th London regiment. The Queens’ men formed up on a double company front with ‘A Coy’ on the right and ‘B Coy’ on the left with C and D Coys in support in support on the right and left respectively. Each company was in three lines and each wave in 2 lines. (The distance between waves was 20 yards and between lines 10 yards). By 02:55am (7th), the front wave advanced to within 75 yards of the enemy front line and the rear waves conformed to this movement as the men stood in silence wondering how this morning would end. By 03:10am, the war diarist states: ‘A large mine was blown (by us) on our right… and our barrage opened on the enemy front line.’ It was reported that the intensity of the barrage was ‘extreme.’ Just three minutes later, the barrage lifted from the enemy front line and the leading wave entered it with no opposition as it appeared to be unoccupied. ‘A large mine blown’ is the four singular words we have in print that document one of the most extraordinary military operations of British history. After a week-long artillery bombardment, allied forces detonated explosives in 19 mines under the German positions blowing men sky-high as the ground beneath their boots exploded. Shocked Germans suffered enormous casualties and were soon bombarded with an invasive infantry attack protected by a ‘creeping barrage.’ British Empire forces suffered around 25,000 casualties. German losses were more than 26,000.
The advance then continued to the enemy support line where the first wave halted for the purpose of ‘mopping up.’ However none was required, as the trench was completely demolished and so they continued to advance. At this point they were joined by the 5th wave, who although were a carrying party, dumped their load and went forward respectively. The second wave followed the barrage and halted at the ‘Red Line’ where the enemy was encountered (about 8). Whilst the 3rd, 4th and 6th waves moved straight on to the ‘Blue Line’ the 2nd objective (Damstrasse) had to reached, where they were met with considerable machine gun fire from the direction of ‘White Chateau’ and ‘The stables.’ 30 Germans, no doubt petrified, were taken prisoner as they watched an equal number of their comrades killed before them. A line of posts was rapidly dug in front of ‘Damstrasse’ in attempt to quickly form a rudimentary fortification. Protected by Lewis Gun posts, enabling the erection of these posts later afforded good cover. The diarist states that surprisingly, very little resistance was encountered at all during the attack and the prisoners taken were entirely demoralised. It was suspected that the lines taken over must have been ‘lightly held’ or recently evacuated as few enemy dead were visible. Demonstratable through the fact that it was actually possible to bring up pack animals to the Damstrasse whilst it was still light. Just before 07:00am, the 122nd infantry brigade attacked through the ‘Blue line’ accompanied by tanks (revolutionary at this time, at the primary phase of introduction to warfare around this time) and captured the ‘Black line’ (‘Oblong reserve’ and ‘Obscure trench’). Again, this did not cause a hostile retaliation attack from the enemy on their positions. Further progress was made by 15:10pm that afternoon just in front of ‘Black line.’ The waging attack caused so much damage onto the German territory that almost ‘all trenches (were) obliterated’ so some difficulty was experienced in reorganising particular sections of the enemy line. Despite this attack sounding so successful, four officers were killed, and 29 men of other ranks were dead. 5 officers were wounded and 157 from men of other ranks. By the end of the 7th June, Robinson’s battalion had suffered significant losses, the price paid for one of the single most successful British actions of the Great War. Evidence suggests that Robinson was not wounded. A British observer of the mine explosions at Messines, at Sint Elooi, which Robinson would have too witnessed, reported as follows:
“Suddenly at dawn, as a signal for all of our guns to open fire, there rose out of the dark ridge of Messines and ‘Whitesheet’ an that ill-famed Hill 60, enormous volumes of scarlet flame… throwing up high towers of earth and smoke all lighted by the flame, spilling over into fountains of fierce colour, so that many of our soldiers waiting for the assault were thrown to the ground. The German troops were stunned, dazed and horror stricken if they were not killed outright. Many of them lay dead in the great craters opened by the mines.”
If we once more use the battalion war diaries to look at late June, we can ascertain that on the 26th, the battalion were in front line support positions east of Sint Elooi and that Robinson was with his company. The diary further records that at 17:30pm that day, a shell of large calibre (5.9 inches) ‘burst into the dugout’ that had Second Lieutenant Robinson inside. In this single moment, three officers lost their lives: Lieutenant Colonel R. Otter’s second in command, assistant adjutant, and Robinson. Robinson was acting as Scout Officer which is why he was too inside the HQ dug-out. Otter wrote to Robinson’s parents offering his condolences and deepest sympathy as he assured them the loss of their son was a ‘great blow to us all.’ Otter added how ‘fond’ he and his comrades were of their son. Robinson was buried, side-by-side with his fellow officer who died with him on that day, in Dickebush New Military cemetery. Robinson plot II A. 28, and Second Lieutenant Cook: II A.29.
Robinson’s death evoked messages of condolence from far and near. Amongst the letters was one from a French lady with whom the deceased was billeted when in action on the Somme expressing her deepest sorrow at the sad news.
Mr and Mrs Robinson received over 250 letters of sympathy for their loss of their boy.
