of their comrades, and it seemed to some of them that the rebels back in Dublin had thrown in their lot with this enemy.
For a young man far from home in a dangerous, challenging environment, it can be very reassuring to encounter a familiar, friendly face. Dalton was delighted to meet, among the officers of the 9th, his father’s friend Tom Kettle. The former Irish Party MP had forsaken his post as Professor of National Economy for the rather more dangerous role of a company commander with the Royal Dublin Fusiliers. Noted for his eloquence and his scholarship, he had achieved considerable prominence in the Nationalist movement and was a co-founder of the Land League.
The 9th Battalion was about to take part in a major offensive to capture what remained of the town of Ginchy. In the few days they were to have together in the advance trenches before the Ginchy operation, Emmet Dalton and Tom Kettle became firm friends, despite the age gap between them. Kettle was 36 years old – twice Dalton’s age. Dalton found Kettle to be a ‘very charming and delightful man’. Dalton recalled sitting with him just before the movement up to the front line for the offensive. ‘He recited to me a poem that he had written to his daughter, and he had it written down in a field notebook.’ Dalton said it was a ‘delightful little poem’.2 To My Daughter Betty, The Gift of God would become one of the most memorable poems to emerge from the Great War.
Kettle could have avoided the assault on Ginchy in which he was to die but he chose to stay with his men. On the night before his battalion moved up to the Somme, Kettle wrote a letter to a friend saying that he had two chances of leaving – one on account of sickness and the other to take a staff appointment. ‘I have chosen to stay with my comrades,’ he wrote. ‘The bombardment, destruction and bloodshed are beyond all imagination. Nor did I ever think that valour of simple men could be quite as beautiful as that of my Dublin Fusiliers.’3 The extent of the bloodletting was brought home to Dalton in a chilling manner when he was walking along a trench. The ground seemed soft and soggy with what appeared to be stones here and there, and he kept slipping. He mentioned the stones underfoot to a sergeant who informed him that they were not stones – they were the remains of men killed in previous fighting.4
The Germans had a firm grip on Ginchy, and British commander Field Marshal Douglas Haig was determined that it would be captured. Previous attempts had been made to seize Ginchy by 7 Division, and they had come from the same direction, Delville Wood. The forces of 7 Division were withdrawn after suffering massive casualties. Now the British top brass decided to attack from another direction, from the south, throwing the 16th (Irish) Division into the fray. The Irish would attack from the newly-captured area around Guillemont. They would also mount an assault in greater strength than 7 Division. The weather was unfavourable – rain was falling. However, good fortune would favour the Irish, in that two new German divisions had been deployed in the sector and effective communications had not been established between them. As a result, the forces holding Ginchy lacked support.5 This lack of coordination helped give the Irish the edge as they advanced, supported by artillery. Nevertheless, the attacking forces would suffer very heavy casualties.
Death of Tom Kettle
Dalton later recalled how he and Tom Kettle were both in the trenches at Trones Wood, opposite Guillemont, on the morning of 8 September 1916.6 The mood was sombre. Their battalion had sustained heavy casualties from German shellfire the day before, losing about 200 men and seven officers. As they talked, an orderly arrived with a note for each officer: ‘Be in readiness. Battalion will take up A and B position in front of Guinchy [Ginchy] tonight at 12 midnight.’ Kettle was in command of B Company while Dalton was second-in-command of A Company.
Dalton recalled in a letter: ‘I was with Tom when he advanced to the position that night, and the stench of the dead that covered our road was so awful that we both used some foot-powder on our faces. When we reached our objective we dug ourselves in, and then, at five o’clock p.m. on the 9th, we attacked Guinchy’ [sic]’.7 It is unclear why the attack was timed for so late in the day. It may have been intended to deprive the enemy of sufficient daylight time to organize a counter-attack. It may also have been because the enemy expected a normal dawn offensive starting time.
The massed ranks of British artillery opened a rolling barrage as the Dubs left their trenches. Dalton recalled the moment that Kettle was hit.8
I was just behind Tom when we went over the top. He was in a bent position, and a bullet got over a steel waistcoat that he wore and entered his heart. Well, he only lasted about one minute, and he had my crucifix in his hands. Then Boyd9 took all the papers and things out of Tom’s pockets in order to keep them for Mrs. Kettle, but poor Boyd was blown to atoms in a few minutes. The Welsh Guards buried Mr. Kettle’s remains. Tom’s death has been a big blow to the regiment, and I am afraid that I could not put in words my feelings on the subject.
In another letter Dalton wrote: ‘Mr. Kettle died a grand and holy death — the death of a soldier and a true Christian.’10 It is said that when Kettle’s aged father Andrew heard the news that his son was missing in action, he responded: ‘If Tom is dead, I don’t want to live any longer.’ True to his word, within two weeks he himself joined his son in death, passing away at eighty-three years of age.
Although there was no trace of the personal possessions that Tom Kettle had with him when killed, happily the poem that he wrote a few days before the battle survived. Perhaps fearing that the end was near, Kettle had written To My Daughter Betty, The Gift of God for his young daughter Elizabeth, born on 31 January 1913. The final, poignant lines are still regularly quoted:
Know that we fools, now with the foolish dead,
Died not for Flag, nor King, nor Emperor,
But for a dream, born in a herdsman’s shed,
And for the Secret Scripture of the poor.
Dalton’s daughter Audrey told the author that her father carried a copy of that poem in his wallet with him all his life, until the day he died.
The 8th and 9th battalions of the Dublin Fusiliers led the assault through Ginchy, their objective being the German support trench on the northern outskirts. The town, on a hill, had been well fortified by German engineers. It was defended by the 19th Bavarian Regiment, which had only recently arrived in the sector and was not fully familiar with the positions it was required to hold. About 200 of the German enemy surrendered, while others ran, pursued by the attackers. It was said that because of the loss of so many of their officers, the Irish soldiers, in hot pursuit of the enemy, carried on beyond the objective, and had to be brought back. Eventually the Irish consolidated their positions around the town.
Dalton’s 9th Battalion suffered heavy losses in the attack on Ginchy. Many of the officers were killed or wounded, and Dalton, one of the most junior of the officers, had to take command of two companies – or what was left of the companies. He deployed these as best he could and sent a runner with a message back to command HQ that they were now in control of Ginchy. The order came back that they were to hold their position. The capture of Ginchy gave the 16th Division a prominent salient in the German lines, and it was only a matter of time before the Germans mounted a counter-attack. Bavarian infantry came in on the offensive at 18:20 and 21:00 and met stiff Irish resistance.
As Dalton and his men came under heavy fire, he deployed machine gun teams in key locations to discourage the enemy, even managing to take prisoners after he came face-to-face with enemy forces after dark. Dalton and his men held out until relieved after twenty-four hours by a battalion of the Welsh Guards. Dalton and another officer, 2nd Lieutenant Nicholas Hurst, a noted rugby player from a Church of Ireland family in Bantry, County Cork, were the only officers of the 9th Dublins to walk out of the battle relatively unscathed. The rest were killed, wounded or missing.11 In the aftermath of the battle Dalton served as acting Captain.
For his actions on the day of Ginchy battle, Dalton was later awarded the Military Cross – his nickname afterwards would be ‘Ginchy’. The full citation reads:
At the capture of Guinchy [sic], on the 9th of September, 1916, he displayed great bravery and leadership in action. When, owing to the loss of officers, the men of two companies were left without leaders, he took command and led