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Chwiliwch 15 miliwn o erthyglau papurau newydd Cymru
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Cuddio Rhestr Erthyglau
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The Rev. W. J. Eeee, of Porth, Rhondda Valley, took over the pastorate of Alitwen Congregational Church, Pontardawe, on Sunday. There were large congregations, at the morning and evening services, and all present were very much impressed with the new pastor. At the Sunday School in the afternoon the rev. gentleman distributed, about 300 books to the coholars. Mr. Re-A is i native of Drefech, Car- marthenshire, and has been patter at two churches iu Llangadock and Llandysfil. [ lie last pxiniisfcered. ai Porth for si*, yeare. J
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_m_ DEEDS OF THE WELSH REGIMENT I ——. —— I Being the Diary of a Soldier. Remarkable Record of Experiences at the Front I By PRIVATE SAMUEL KNIGHT. I This Is the second instalment of the re- markable diary kept by Pte. &Vmuej Knight, 2nd Welsh Regiment, describing his experiences at the front. Sunday, September 13th..30 p.m. enter Bourg. (See map.) Hip Ger- mans have blown up the main bridge. Find a small one higher up the river. Evidence here of attempts to blow up this also. We cross this bridge and mount I the hill overlooking the town. Rest. Five miles to our right the French artillery is booming ;way. We can see the spitting flames. Night has fallen. We are taken id billets in the town. Rations follow, but the hour is too late for distribution. They decide to give us what we consider to be needed most. The tobacco is doled out. Biscuits can remain till the morn- ing. Monday, September 14th.-5 a.m. Move off. After proceeding about two miles we are greeted by the enemy's artillery fi e. Shrapnel shells burst over our heads. Roofs of neigh- bouring barns rattle like kettle drum?;. I j hear a peal of laughter from my com- j • rades near me. for. as the result of an unconscious action, I had raised The collar of my coat. I laugh myself. We are now in the thick of It. Tne e:fft of the shrapnel ia beRinning to tell, a?- my comrades fall out to the roadside to be bandaged. We continue to ad- van;> up a gradient. Upon the horizon we open out in extended order. A vall^y opens out Wore U. (See illustration). Rey?od it. is a hill whose cil-s an' dothed with a d&nse wood. This hill and wood are held by the enemy. B Company under Captain Haggard, is ordered to ad- vance to drive out the enemy from this position. We have orders to lie down. Our oomradAS advance is greeted by the wwany with a heavy rifle fire. Their firing is lvigh. The bullets missing thtir- intended billets, pizz." pizz." pizz about 115 in the rear. The Welsh return with vigour. I hear the rattle of the enemy's machine guns. The Welsh make a dash for the hill, but on its summit are met with heavy shell-fire. They re- tire a little. Rifle fire ceases somewhat, and I see the Germans like a grey cloud, attempt an advance on the other @id", ,"f I the same hills. When on t.he brow, our artillery en my left 'lets go.' The first: shell finds the range to a nicety. Almost immediately the whole battery speaks, and with de- structive effect. Shattered bodies and limbs dance in the air. Word comes down that Major Xerrich is killed, and that Captain Haggard is severely i wounded. (At this point in my diary, I refer my readers to a letter contributed by one of my comrades, and which was pub-I lished in the South Wales papers. It was headed "Stick it Welshi But we do advance across the valley. At the foot of the hill, turn half-right. We lie down. It is a clover field. The dead bodies of my comrades lie around me. The oM saying "They're in clover" strikes me forcibly. I meditate. It's words have a real significance now. 11 am roused by the order-" Fix bayonet*! Advance! Keep your distances!" Wo do so as if on parade. We sweep up the hill, skirting the woods. The enemy's! fire has ceased. We rush over the German dead. They are in all positions. Some in; life-like attitudes: death's hand percep-j tible only in their fixed and glassy stare, ) I feel my departed comrades are avenged, i What is this in front? Out of the wood ¡ itreame a horde of Germans stripped of <*q\ripment and with hands upraised. Their leaders shont We surrender." We stop. The Germans are searched for fire- arms. Part of the company is left in charge of these prisoners. We advance further along the hill. As I moye off a Germ.an prisoner, on his knees, seizes my II hand- He endeavours to rover it with kig, at the sam time saying Merci, Merci? (Thank you.) Our captain shouts Come a.lcn? Let's get some more." He disappears over the brow of the hiU. (We saw him no more. He is aow a prisoner.) From behind a dump of trees on our front another hatcii sur- renders. We gather tiit-m together, as ) the night gradually creeps on. Suddenly re are treated to a hail of shrapnel from Jerman artillery. The place is illuminated &v the bursting s hells. It is now "very iit." We take shelter below a ridge on iL hill. A drizzly rai n begins to fall. 1 have no means of covering as I have lost my waterproof sheet. No sleep to-nigit. 1 The hours have ]:ul. wings. Piercing1 ri'6 of the wounded re-echo through, tne roode. The German wounded cry, D"o..e-t-,o-r, D-o-c-t-,o-r our woundet TV "S-t-r-e-t-c-h-e-r-b-e-a-r-e-r, S-t-r-e-t-1 ;„h_e.T-b-e-a-r-e-r." Now and again u huddled form emitting fearful groajift, vrarwk on all four towards us. What horror! Some of the German prisoners can epeak English. I fee one point to the now darkened battlefield. In sad and despairing tones hp talks to his brother who bad fallen by his side, leaving a wite and five children. and as if uttering a player he whispers with awe, "Oh I f the Great Master (Kaiser) were dead, ih'I'é! would be no war." The capture of t: large a number of Gentians by such 3 small number as we were; their lack- of spirit in hand-to-hand struggle, ca-jse me to think that the end of the war is ndt far off. (How ignorant I was of numbers. I had no conception of a million. What, then, of seven to -eight millions ?) Tuesday, September 15th.—Grey fiawn: prisoners are gathered together to he (writ to headquarters. We retire into the woods, and eventually join the reet oi the regiment. We hand over the prisoners. They are marched away under escort. My company (A) is ordered to advance through the wood to the hill. We do so very cautiously. The wood is dense. Our progress is s low. We reach the edge, which is about 260 yards from the brow of the hill. We halt. We must wait for nightfall before anything can be done. have tasted neither food nor water !-in< e the dawn of the 14tb. [ have an emergency ration—lib tin of bullybeef in my havrsack. I share r with my comrades. It is very salty. Our thirst is aggravated. We cannot find water. We passa weary day in the damp wood. It is evening. I find a C,, e r iii an ante^n (oooking utensil). It is made of 11.1minium. I try to collect a little .vater' from the dripping leaves. Dark- ness is falling. There's a call for volun-j teers to fetch water from the nearest village, about two mileftlpway. My thirst forces me to answpf the call. I gather a J few of now comrades' water bottles. We move off silently through the woods. We' reach the village; make for the pump. which is in a farmyard (the farm build- ings are converted into a hospital) and fiil the bottles. I hear that Captain Haggard has died of his wounds. A transport waggon reaches the village. We till a box with biscuits and beef, and return to our comrad es. We are bark. The food is doled out. It continues to rain. I lie down in the wet undergrowth. I am' so cold that I »m compeUed to rise to rub my limbs for a little warmth. We move to a hedge in the r Here wo dig ourselves i n., The dig^in^ thn.mg.bivit the night has jefctored a little lieat to iuj body.. Wednesday, September 16th.—Dawn nuds me crouched in my dug-out." My toes are benumbed. I rise and rub my limb. I make my "dug-out" morei sure. We dig a trench along tb-3 I ri n, of our "dug-outs" to enable us to take a little exercise. without being seen by the German snipers. A comrade gwr, out. from his "dug-out" to that of his neighbour to obtain a light for his cigarette. He if shot in the act of taking a light. Two of us searched the wood. We find sodte German ],-its. I receive a great sur- prise. I had heard that the portion of the German Army we had just en- countered wtis in sore straits. Each kit contained almost every comfort imagin- able. The metal pai £ of the equipment is 1 made of aluminium. His burden is tit,, i much lighter. I make a. meal from the food I find. I use a fine thick German overcoat as a carpet for my muddy com- bined drawing-room and kitchen. We wait and watch. II, iie time go'" wcacUy. There is noth- I ing doing. Night tan. We are still watching. Eyes are fixed on the sky- line. It assumes grotesque shapes; now rolling now darning. I nudge my com- rade to keep a s harp look out while I close my eyes for a second to relieve them. He does the same. We repeat this throughout the night. Far away towards the German lines the dark sky is lit up by a flash, followed by a boom. The shell whistles over our heads on its erra.nd of destruction. The firing is kept up the whole night at in- tervals of about five minutes. It is rain- ing and very cold. Thursday, September 17th.—Dawn: Still in "dig-out." Artillery duel be- tween German and British commences, latter are behind us down the valley. We are between the two fires. Whistling and shrieking shells form our canopy. Occasionally shells bursting short send their deadly shrapnel crashing through the tree-fops. Fight continues through- out the day. I feel a sense of security owing to the protection afforded by the trees. It is nightfall. The firing ceases some- what. We think it now safe for a party to proceed to the village for rations. This is accomplished. A night of vigil fol- lows. The horizon begins to dance again. Right on the sky-line is a haystack, affording splenciid concealment for tho German snipers. It is near the enemy and obstructs our view. The officer sug- gests that it should be burnt and calls for a volunteer. A comrade steps out. Cautiously he makes his way towards the rick. We watch with straining eyes. The rick is now in flames. lighting up the hill. The heroic deed is acef)mplj,bedA.? Friday, September Hth.—3 a.m. It is raining frightfully. We are soaked. A sudden and fierce night attack begins, t Our rifles poke over the trenches. We re-I turn the fire with vigour. I am in a fever. I feel very weak. After firing I have not sufficient strength to pull back the bolt, of my rifle. I hand it to my comrade to be reloaded. I have just suffi- cient strength to pull the trigger. We blaze away. Our firing is evidently suc- cessful. A faint whistle of Cease fire!" comes along the trench. All is quiet again. We watch and wait. Dawn finds us up to our knees in slush t and mud. Cannot move a stop without staggering. Some quantities of rum arc ..odishf'd out" to keep out the cold. I cannot take it. I feel so weak. It is still raining. A hollow is found in the wood where we are going to light a fire for cooking purposes. I chop up for fire- wood the wooden base of a German machine gun. I reflect. This is the very gun whose murderous fire Captain Hag- gard so gloriously sought to destroy. At the time one might be tempted to think that the attack of our gallant captain was nothing but sheer recklessness. It was not so. His reward was only the silencing of the. gun. We captured it later, lie furrowed the land; we gathered the harvest. Here indeed was a leader of men. I cook a meal. Return to the trench. Artilltery duel subsides somewhat. I am told off to fetch water from the village. We make our way down the hill. We pass two comrades in a sitting posture. i)ne has a cigarette between his fingers. I I see no trace of blood. But their souls have lied. I wonder as to the cause of I their death. I am soon to find out my- self. I have filled my bottles at the weil. It is in a farmyard. I see nothing hut I grave6, with their simple crosses bearing the names in indelible pencil. An aged woman, unable to flee, strews flowers upon ¡ graves. I fill my pockets with apples, which I pluck from the trees. I raise the water-bottles. There's a terrific crash. Then wh izz I Something Irik,. a comrade's hand very near my faee. A spurt of blood is followed by a groan. Something seems to clutch at in?- throat. I fan to th? ground. I have a vague recollection of falling into line with my comrades and of marching back to the trenches. I am brought to myself by a touch on the I shoulder and a question: What's the matter, old boy ?" They tell me I've been babbling to myself. Such is the effect of concmision brought about by a bursting shell. A severer attack would have brought me to the same condition as my two comrades, whom I saw on my way to the village. It a narrow shave. The. Germans are very near. We can hear their transports move along the liÜes. It is a moonlight night. We feel safe from a night attack. Still we watch. Saturday, September 19th.—Dawn: still in the trenches. It is raining and cold. My feet are frozen. I revert to the old process of rubbing. I go into the wood to make a shelter from the rain. I con- struct a booby-hutch, by drawing together the pliant trees to form an arch. I inter- lace this with branches thickly leaved. My comrade and I start a meal of tea and biscuits in this hutch. The wood resounds to the crack! crack of rifle ifre. It is an enfilade fire. From the flying chips we see that the bullets strike the tree-tops. We feel safe. We continue our meal. The bullets strike lower now. We are in danger. Though unwilling to leave our meal, we ma.ke for the treiicites hurriedly. Firing gradually ceases. We return <o resume our meal. The tea is cold. I pick up my ration of bully beef, to hml it pierced by a German bullet. I am glad I left the hutch. Night sees us watching as usual. Sunday, September 20th.—In the trenches; rain and cold. Nothing doing, but watching and waiting. Rival artil- leries arc pounding one another. Cheery news comes along that we arc going to be relieved to-night. What anticipation* liow true is the oH Shakespearean line, Hope to joy is little less in joy than hope enjoyed Night falls. Whispered instructions are paased along from man to man as to the method of our withdrawal from the trenches. At 2 a.m. we move off silently. Not a word is spoken. Each man follows the one going before. We join the rest of the regiment at a village called Bourne. Taken to a barn for rest. The familiar and welcome straw is to be my bed for a few hou, What a heaveuly I change from the mud of the trench Monday, September 21st.—Dawn: rise from my bed of straw and see new forces. A draft has just arrived from England. They are told off to their various units. They receive their baptism of fire imme- diately. The Germans are shelling us. Twilight comes, and they are still shelling us. At 12 midnight we move off silently. As we go along I hear repented whisperin.s. mind the holes Imme- diately a huge gap yawns in the road- way where a German shell had burst. The stars tell me that we are taking a south-westerly direction. This looks as if we are going to rest a white from the actuX filing line. It is a false infer- ence. We turn sharply to the left. We are moving east. We arrive at the foot of the Yendresse heights. Take up posi- tion in ? lane. Word comes along, You mav lie down." I remove my kit and do j so. It is a damp slushy lane. The cold pierces my very marrow. I get up to pace the banc. Tuesday, September 22.—It is dawn. I am still walking to and fro. The Ger- mans are. still shelling us. We advance up the heights of in sections, atM5 minutes' interval. One hundred yards from the summit we halt. We dig ourselves in. Digging is very difficult j owing to the hard nature of the soil. Soon four of us occupy a dug-out." The. roof is made of a network of branches, and leaves. Pieces of shrapnel fall: through the roof. The impetus of the pieces is broken. No damage is done. I We watch and wait. Wednesday, September 23rd to Friday, i September 25th.-Still being shelled; watching and waiting. See a huge barn on a neighbouring hill. It is being shelled. It is on fire. It burns for three THE DIARIST. _C days. I see a thrilling sight: A fight in mid-air between a French and German aviator. The former is winged, and get, off second best. He volplanes to earth safely. Saturday, September 26th.—Dawn: Sharp order eoilies along. YaIl in at the bottom of the hill We march off in file and in extended order. We. arrive on a thickly wooded part of the hill. We advance towards the summit through this pine wood. It is being thickly shelled. We have orders to lie down. The frightened squirrels jump from tree to tree. A pretty sight. This place is too hot for us. We retire a little. 1 am separated from my pal. A line of wounded pass hy. I see a familiar and doubled-up figure among them. It is my pal. Enemy's fire ceases a. little. "We advance to the very brow of the hill. My section (No. 9) composed of It men, an officer, and a sergeant, is detached from the rest of the company. We lie down. Four of us on the extreme right arc separated from the remaining ten by a small ridge about. 18 inched high. The comrade on the left is told to keep a sharp look out. and listen carefully for any orders. We wait. No orders come. The bullets whizz all round. j It is terrible. I am not hit yet. We not ifre, as we have no 'definite objective. The enemy's fire drips, drips, drips. It has finally ceased. The comrade on the left is told to look to sen what has become of the rest of our section. He peeps over the ridge. He finds them all dead, officer and sergeant included. We are four-lost and stranded. We craw I to a d i sused quarry. It is occupied by another regiment. We report our plight to the officer in charge, and place our- selves under his command. -We lie down and face the en-emr. They arc retiring in confusion. A shell bursts in front of us, It lias dropped on some loose soil. It is raining earth ami stones. It is a shell from our own artillery. They are trying to find the range of the ictiring enemy. The next shèll bursts nearer. They've got the range now. Screaming shells bursts among them in their chaotic, rout. The day draws out. We arc very hungry. Food coines up. There is plenty to spare. We have a meal. I go out in front of the trenches with an officer to review the day's slaughter. I behold a scene of deso- lation and carnage. We have evidently been fighting a crack regiment. There is not a. dead German under lift. 2ins. in height. My comrades of Section 0 have been avenged. We seek information as to ih- whereabouts of our regiment. We find thpin. We arc just in time to pre- vent our names being handed in on the casualty list. We return to the hill and entrench ourselves. Sunday, September 27th.—Dawn: We bury our comrades. A TongII comrade plucks a few simple wild flowers and places then) on the graves. All is silent. Not a word is spoken. They have gone. but their deeds will live for ever. I am told off to an unpleasant task. The atmosphere is filled with a wreaking stoDch. We ascertain the cause—four decaying horses. We bury them. Dusk: ify diminished section along with others, goe.4 to relieve com- rades in advance trenches. A5 we near the ridge we arc met by a hail of the enemy's bullets,. We fall flat, It is yerY hot: The bullets drop all round u". Wo advance a little. Tho bullets pass right over us. Joyful news como along. We are going to be relieved. This is official. We move off to a neigh- bouring aud deserted villtge-some straw and a ftjw hours rest. Monday, Sept. 28th.—Thk is a day of rest. but not for me. I am told off for a 24 hours' guard. My chief order is to keep a sharp look out for aircraft. Our safety here depends upon the conceal- meut of out" troops from the enemy. Night falls. My orders are very df-b nite-Ralt! HriiKls up Who are you ?" Tuesday, September 29th.—My first day of rest since August 29th. I remove my boots for the first time during the last four weeks. I dread to have to put them on again. Our rest is a short one. With dusk we are off again. We. pa"I"\ through and march almost to the sum- mit, of the hill beyond. We go into caves. These are pitch dark. We (I, rawl in on all fours. I lie upon some straw. These caves have been recently occupied by Tureos and Zouaves. We are away from the actual firing line. Wednesday, September 30th.—Half an i hour before the dawn we stand to.' Ready. It is very cold. Before me is a blackness. Gradually it merges into a dull grey. Like the folds of a huge vel- vet curtai n it rolls. It is rising at regu- lar intervals unveiling a sleeping valley. It is in focus. Tlie valley is flooded with the amber and scarlet hues of the rising Hun. My mind finds copifort and conso- lation as I behold the wbndrous spec- tacle. I forget my discomforts. Attacks usually take place at dawn. We see not such signs this morning. We are dis- missed. We return to our caves. T feel a creeping .sensation all over my body. J. attribute it -1\) the condition of my blood. The day on. The teeling becomes unbearable. I leave the dark cave for the light of day to investigate. I remove some of u*v clothing. Horrors! I have another enemy to figh<t. I am covered with vermin. I strip to (he waist, and commence a slaughter. It is of no avail. Like the Germans, they arc in hordes. 1 adopt a little strategy. I again don my clothes, but this time inside out. Several of my comradcs are in the same plight. I spend tlif. night, in the caves. Thursday, October 1-2.-A and C com- txinie^ of my Eegjinent are paraded be- fore the Brigodier-General. He speaks with fervour and admiration of our wort accomplished in the opening stages of the Aisne Battle. We can never realise the value of our work against such over- whelming cdcl" October 3rd and 4th.—Dawn: artillery duels are in progress. We have time to adopt svstematio measures for relief in the trenches. Half the regiment goes to the trenches for three nights and two days. alternately. The other remains at C- resting. Even here men are not allowed to remain idle. A splendid idea. We have to dig trenches to keep up the circulation and kefp the mind occupied. Monday, October 5th.—2 a.m. We move off silently in the darkness to the trenches. I am on the look-out in my trench. Ou my front the Yalley of Death—the ecene of our glorious ad- vance, open out. Immediately on my right side rises a little mound, bearing on its bosom a rude and simple cross. The epitaph is in keeping with the grave, pimple?—" Captain Haggard killed in action." A I)att-r- of our artillery behind us ;s being shelled. A shell falling short bursts very near. This happens often. I lipar the intermittent creek of a sniper's rifle. Word comes along: "Aeroplane, get under cover!" We hear the buzz of the engine as it flies. over us. It hovers over the spot where our artillery is con- cealed. From the tail of the aeroplane shoot out the illuminated balls. In re- ply to this signal the German shells simply shriek: along. They are not effec- tive, as our artillery is still very much alive. It is night-time. To avoid monotony we move off to occupy another trcnch. Thts is in a lane, low down in the vil- lage. It is very damn here. Sentries are posted in the trenches. They do one honT in three. Towards midnight, luri-ng a period of rest, I fall to sleep. Vfter a short while I feel a nudge and hear a gruff whisper: Shut up, you fool!" In surprise I ask: What's the matterThe reply is: "You are snor- ing; you'll give the position away." Not in the habit of making these soninabul- istic noises, I deny it, and ask him if he i" dreaming. I ask him not to spoil a comrade's rest. I drop off again. Once! I get a crack in the ribs from the butt of J a rifle. Two dark figures are in front of me. He has brought a witness this time. I feel I cannot deny it. I have my own proof also. I experience a peculiar Ben-' sation in the nasal cavity. Hard luck! I am robbed of my sleep. (To be Continued.)
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t S v = t f th Tn d tt d I' I Private S. Knight has drawn the above map to.illustratc the movements of the Welsh Regiment during the earlier stages of the war. The dotted lines I ihdieate the train journeys, and the biack lines the marches on foot. The jou rney started at Havre, thence by train to Rocroi; on foot from there to Mons, J Valenciennes, Cambrai, Guise, La Fere, Compiegne, Chavnries (the furthermost poinfc (9 gha fiircatj, Refcais, to the Aisne. Back again to Rcbais4 and by train j frpm there to Amiens, Calais Ygr £$; fpj jowed by his own return to ttrc base hosp ital* x « I i
EXIT 1914.I
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EXIT 1914. I NEW YEAR WELCOMED IN THE I BSSTRICT. It was a strange old year we bid farewell to, and a new charged with unexampled j perils and possibilities, we welcomed in Swansea Thursday night. Nature's -^lu d was weird and inspiring, too. Lotus j trumpeted in tho trees and around the house corners. There had neen luu I and rain. Yet, at an hour from midnight it I was light—so light thai the gas lamps and the electrIC globs seem a dull intru- sion. Over th( Bay the coast lines of Forthcawl and Mumbles could be seen—a deader drab against the dead drab of the wide flat waves. The church bells called to prayer. There were midnight services in St. Mary's, St. Andrew's, Wesley, Christ Church, | Brunswick, and the Albert Hull, it was inevitable that the great war should I occupy -strained attention. Heavy it lay, on the hea.rts of all. From the Albert Hall congregation, where the old pastor celebrated also his fiftieth jubilee (39 years of watch night services in that very build- ing) 160 men, husband- sons, lovers,, pj-d i friends had given all for their country—a number unusually largo for one congrega- tion. This gave point to the songs, "'Twill not be Long our Journey IIere" and I" Eternity is Drawing Nigh." A little episode at St. Mary's cry- stalLsed the anguish of spirit that is so prevalent. A poor woiAan. whose hus- band had that day left; for the front, was seized with a paralytic, fit, and caused much commotion as she was removed, her little girl crying bitterly in sym- pathy with mama. At some of the churches the watch night had been introduced by social [evenings, when young people heartily en- iwople lteartily en- joyed themselves, but during the twelfth hour all were sober and grave. f The customary watch-night service was held at St. Mary's Parish Church, a large congregation attending. The vicar, the Rev. the Hon. W. Talbot Rice, was the preacher. In the course of a -seasonable discourse, based on the subject of Humblo thyself," he adduced some homely truths in regard to the present- day methods of living, and the, absence of due devotion. At an impressive service at Swansea Wesley Church, Rev. A. W. Wardle said from a certain poipt' of view it migfct have been better for us if in connection with the war we could have peeved into the unknown and deciphered the hiero- glyphics of fate. But he suggested that it-he fact that we had not been able to do so was one of the mercies of a wiso and kjlldly providence. As the past found us, so would the future—steadfast, without fear, full of faith and hope in our cause and in our God. Preceding a watch night service at St. Andrew's Presbyterian Church, an ex- cellent concert took place in the Lecture Hall, George-street. The artistes were Miss Maggie Davies (contralto), Mr. Tom Davies (tenor). Mr. Josiah Thomas (bass), Mr. W. H. Williams (elocu- tionist). and Miss Maggie Jones, L.R.A.M. (pianist). Amongst those pre- sent was a company of the 6th Welsh. l who received a hearty welcome, and several of them accepted the invitation to remain to supper, which was served immediately after the concert. The wat. hnight service which followed in the church was also well attended. The Rev. Robert Green shield, M.A., B.D., conducted the service in an im- pressive manner, and an excellent, fid- dress was gvien by Mr Osborne Samuels, B.A., of Abertillery, "It does not often fall to a minister to hold a jubilee watch-night in the same town," said the Rev. Oscar Snelling in the Albert Hall. It was rather a large thing to have lived and laboured for 50 years in one town—something for which he could only say "Thanks be to God." That made the service for him a pecu- liarly solemn and yet a very joyous one. He saw in the congregation some who began with him 50 years ago—very few— they had laid most of them down to sleep. If it had not been for the war, which has brought so much sorrow, destruction, grietf and pain, they would possibly have kept up their jubilee together. But in face of such a calamity as had come into the world it was not for one poor minis- ter to push jubilee forward, but rather to think of the needs of the world and its millions in sorrow and distress. This was his 35th watch-night service in ¡ that building. A large number of men had gone from the Albert Hall congregation, they had at 161 of their men serving with the colours. Thank God for their cour- age and willingness to help those of us i,I.io eoi-ildn't lielp in a calamity as this. God be with thexn to- night. Let them pray for our nation, and all the nations of the world, who are all dear to the heart of God. The young people of the Wesleyan Church, Mumbles, held their annual New Year's Eve social on Thursday night. It opened with a miscellaneous programme, in which the following artistes took part: Miss Dorothy Sanders. Ivy Redd, Doris Bevan, and Messrs. II. Libby, R. Brad- sha.w. and George Morgan. Several com- petitions also took place which proved most interesting. The evening wound up by the company indulging ih several games, and doing ample justico to a supper. The year 191,1, came in quite unosten- tatiously at Mumbles. The sounds of the Swansea hooters could be distinctly heard in the village. Watch Sig-hf services were held in a few of the local churches. The annual dance, under the auspices of the Morriston Park Tennis Club, was held at the NVath-road Council School, Morris- ton, on New Year's Eve. There were up- wards of 140 present. Dancing took place in the central hall, which had been beauti- fully decorated, and a long and varied programme of dances was gone through. Mr. Charlie Davies, Swansea, accom- panied. The duties of M.C.'s were carried out bv Mr. Hubert John and Mr. T. W. John: Mr. J. T. Davies and Mr. J. H. Davies were the secretaries During 1 he evening Mr. J. T. Hussey, the secretary of the club, was presented by the members with a silver cigarette case, which was handed over by the chair- man, Mr. J H. Davies. The proceeds of the dance were devoted to thelielgian Refugee Fund and the Mor- riston Red Cross Society. Mr. John Dyer, J.P.. Richmond Villas, again this year showed his keen interest in the excellent work which has for so many years been carried on at the Swan- c,a Ragged School by its superintendent, Mr. David Meager He went Christmas gifts of oranges for the (-hil-dren, and tea and sugar for general distribution. The youngsters were de- lighted, and the and sugar brought a ray of sunshine into many poor families. Miss Dingle, Mr. Dyer's sister-in-law, being unwell, Mr. Dyer personally handed over the gifts at the Ragged School. He was warmly thanked.
RAILWAY DISASTER. I
Newyddion
Dyfynnu
Rhannu
RAILWAY DISASTER. I EXPRESS CUTS LOCAL TRAIN IN I TWO. Ilford was on Friday the scene of a. terrible railway accident, in which seven or eight people were killed, twenty seri- ously inj ured, and a number of others slightly injured. The trains involved were the 7.6 Great Eastern express from Ciacton-on-Sea to Liverpool-street and the S.10 local train from Romford. The latter was passing on to the main line west of Ilford, when the express dashed into it, smashing several carriages and overturning one, while the express engine was derailed and thrown down an embankme_n|L. Most of the injured were apparently in the local train. The railway company on Friday issued two lists containing the names of six persons killed and 23 injured. The killed were Mr. George May lam, Chief Traffic Man- ager's Office, Great Eastern Railway. Simmons, of Hornchurcli. August Lambert, of 108, Kinfauns-road, Good mares. Mr. W'liite, of ifi, Xorfolk-rokd, Seven Kings. Mr. Derfgow, of Seven Kings. Mr. Richardson, of Engineer's Depart- mellt, Great Eastern Railway. The unidentified remains of a lady have also been recovered. The express cut (tke ordinary train completely in half, smashing its way through the coaches and shattering the compartments to iragment-s. No fewer than seven of the carriages of the local train were smashed. The express engine crumpled up with the impact and rolled over the track down the embankment where it lay a mass of wreckage amidst dmds of steam. The three coaches immediately following the engine were also wrecked. Many passengers were pinned down in the debris, and "were unable to escape. It is stated that both the driver and .L i. b (? driver and fiillel_ m'm of the express were seriously injured. The railway otbcials, men of the Royal Army Medical Corps, officers and men of the Canadian Scottish, and many other soldiers assisted in the rescue operations. The engine of the express was completely broken in two. The injuries of some of the passengers were of a shocking nature. One man was completely decapitated. Mr. H. W. Thornton, general manager of the line, quickly arrived at the scene. Seen by a Press Association representa- tive this afternoon, he said it was impos- sible to say anything regarding the cause of the accident until the Board of Trade inquiry was held. Further information to hand at the five on Friday, he said it was impoe- is to the effect that ten people are in hos- pital, while twelve have been treated and not detained. The driver of a third train was able to pull up promptly within a yard of the wreckage. Among the dead is Mr. George Maylanx, of the Chief Traffic Manager's Office, Great Eastern Railway. The lines were completely blocked, traffic to Ilford having to be temporarily diverted via Woodford. Dr. Collier, of Manor Park, who was called to the scene of the aceidp-nt, stated in an interview with a Press Association representative that the spec- tacle was too awful for words. Most of the dead were apparently killed by the force of the im- pact of the large engine and the ordinary train, and several of the bodies were fbund lying underneath the bogey of the engine. The scene was indescribable, and the bodies which were recovered were un- recognisable. The station platforms quickly presented an appearance remind- ing on of a hospital surgery. Every doctor in the district was called upon, and they did a large amount of work in the open-air by the side of the wrecked trains. Another Ilford practitioner. Dr. J. B. Cox, told a Press Association representa- tive that when he arrived the local train and the engine appeared to be lying completely on its side. The express train had apparently passed through the middle portion of the local train. several first-class compart- ments being wrecked u It was a shocking affair," said Dr. Cox. I have seen these things on the pictures, but never anything so terrible as this. When I came away after at- tending to a number of cases on the lines there were still two or three bodies be- neath the derailed express engine, and energetic efforts were being made to extricate them. The Clacton express usually passes Ilford Station first, but this morning the* local train came first, and. as it was crossing the points, the express, coming along at a great speed, met it and hit it in the side, overturning several carriages. The engine of the express left the rails, and the front part of it fell into a coal siding, burying, it is said, a man and a cart horse, while two or three carriages of both trains were overturned. The accident was witnessed by nearly a thousand people who were waiting for their train to town. The station was cleared immediately, and the Post Office was besieged with persons wishing to despatch telegrams. Another local train was struck by the falling carriages. Liverpool-street Station presented » re- markable appearance shortly after the accident. I sually one of the busiest of Loudon stations at this hour, it became deserted, traffic being almost entirely sus- pended. The local fire brigade did some very good work at the scefle of the disaster. They extinguished a slight fire about the woodwork of the cab of one of the loco- motives, and then put out the fire in the fire-box of the express. The firemen afterwards assisted in rescue work, using the ambulance equip- ment on their engines. The dirver of the Clacton express flSid: It's a merciful thing we're here. I can't tell you how it. happened. It's awful. I hardly know where I am. Wo had a wonderful escape. Our engine fell right over into the coalyard. I don't know how we escaped, and I don't know how fast we were going. I feel too dazed to say any morte." Official Statement. The following official statement was issued on Friday afternoon by the Great Eastern Railway Company:— At 8.40 a.m. at Ilford station, the Clacton breakfast train ran into tin side of a local Romford train. which w;¡;t at the time passing from the up local lino to the up through line. So far as c&n be at present ascertained, the signals were set for the local train. About ten passengers have been killed and 21) seriously injured, while a numbei of others received minor injuries. All of the officers were promptly on tlij ground, and their attention was given to the injured. Several carriages were. seriously damaged, as well as the engine of tin Clacton express. There is not mucli damage to the permanent way. The lin4 will be partly opene(I in 12 hours, and entirely restored by the eveuing. Among the injured was Captain Whiffen, c.hief' Tecrujting omcer at Old Scotland Yard. He was found with a ;compound fracture of the leg, and wai coolly smoking a cigarette. I The Board of Trade inquiry was opened by Col- Vall Donop at Ilford Station oil Monday, and niter formal evidence wru adjourned to enable the. Inspector to t<3.1v< the evidence of the driver and fireronn oi ■the exnress train, who wAm U1 At tiyu* thomqt .6