War Letters of a Public-School Boy Part 24

Corporal D. C. Jenkins wrote:

I have been asked by your son's crew to write to you, as I was his N.C.O. in the Tank. Your son, Lieut. H. P. M. Jones, was shot by a sniper. The bullet pa.s.sed through the port-hole and entered your son's brain. Death was almost instantaneous. I and Lance-Corporal Millward, his driver, did all we could for your son, but he was beyond human help. His death is deeply felt not only by his own crew, but by the whole section. His crew miss him very much. It was a treat to have him on parade with us, as he was so jolly. We all loved him. Fate was against us to lose your son. He was the best officer in our company, and never will be replaced by one like him. I and the rest of the crew hope that you will accept our deepest sympathy in your sorrow.

Paul Jones had touched life at so many points--Dulwich College, the athletic world, the Army, journalism, the House of Commons, and Wales--that the news of his death caused grief in far-extending circles. Of the hundreds of letters of condolence that reached us I propose to reproduce a few here. They are unvarying in their testimony to his idealism, his personal charm and the n.o.bility of his nature.

Extracts from his last letter, published in the _Daily Chronicle_, the _Western Mail_, Cardiff, and _Public Opinion_, attracted considerable attention.

Lieutenant Jack Donaldson, who, as an A.S.C. officer, was attached to the 2nd Cavalry Brigade in the winter of 1916-17, wrote:

OFFICERS' MESS, HARROWBY CAMP, GRANTHAM.

_August 6th, 1917._

It was with the very deepest sorrow that I read in to-day's paper of the death of your son in action. As you know, he worked under me throughout the greater part of last winter. He was the first subaltern, if I may so express it, I ever had, for he worked under me though he was actually senior in point of rank. He was also the best and most loyal one I could wish for. Far more than that, he was a most interesting and lovable companion and friend.

In fact, when he left us the gap created in our mess was one that became more noticeable every day. Intellectually, he was a great loss to us, for his interests were extremely broad and his views original. But far more than that, there was a sort of bigness about him. He was an idealist, and the rarer sort, the sort that carries its theories into practice.

We all laughed at him and at some of the things he did and the scruples he had, but in our hearts I think we all honoured and loved him for them. For without forcing it in any way upon others he himself followed a code of honour that differed from, and was stricter than, that of the world around him. He was quixotic, especially in anything to do with money, and often to his own personal loss. I think we were all the better for having known him. He seemed hardly to think of himself at all.

No man I ever met was more censorious of his own actions, or more obstinate in his defence of any principle or theory he was advocating in argument, no matter how hare-brained it might seem.

We used to spend hours arguing over anything, from free-will to the "loose-head." I knew, of course, how much he disliked the cla.s.s of work (requisitioning of local supplies) he was doing for me, though no one could have worked harder and few have done it better; but the commercialism of it was abhorrent to him. It was his duty to drive a hard bargain and to be one too many for a knave, and while he did his best to fulfil it he disliked the task.

I took him down on his first interview for the Tanks, and again on his transfer; and though I had no share in getting him the latter, I don't know that I should regret it if I had. For I saw him several times afterwards. I had a couple of joy-rides in his land-s.h.i.+p, and I and all others who met him could not but remark how happy he was. After the Arras show I believe he was simply radiant. He has died the death he would have chosen and in a good cause. Many a time he said to me that he was sure he would never survive the war, and that he did not, for himself, greatly care, for he was not built for a mercenary age. We may be sure that all is well with him where he lies.

I last saw him at Poperinghe about a month ago. He was full of spirits then, though under unpleasant enough conditions. Since then my transfer, applied for at the same time as his, has come through. I was so looking forward to another meeting with him later in France.

From Captain Maurice Drucquer, barrister-at-law, now serving in the A.S.C.:

I want to tell you how grieved I was to hear of the loss of your son. He received his commission the same day as I did, and we were posted to the same station. I only enjoyed his company for three months, as he was sent abroad. During that short period he had endeared himself to all of us, his brother officers, though we were many years his senior in age. What appealed to me most in Paul was the combination in him of boyhood and manhood. There was not the slightest attempt at pretence, not the slightest sign of precociousness, no desire to ape the tone or the airs of those among whom he worked. On another side of his character he was in every respect a man. He tackled all problems of a serious nature with a grasp of the subject which might well be the envy of a thoughtful man. One could not enter into conversation with him without at once perceiving that he must have given much thought and study to the everyday affairs of life. His knowledge of literature was great, and one was surprised, even abashed, at his store. His hours off duty were spent well and wisely. A certain period was always given to healthy exercise, and then would come, almost as a matter of course, hours of fruitful reading. The affectionate part of his nature came out in his relations with the people with whom he lodged. He earned the affection of the whole household, and the lady of the house has often told me that she loved him like her own sons. I saw much in Paul that I cannot put into writing, and I think he had the spirit to see certain truths which we see all too dimly.

Mr. George Smith, M.A., Headmaster of Dulwich College since the autumn of 1914, writes:

It was with deep regret that I learned of Paul's death, and I feel most sincerely for you all in your great sorrow. As you know, I was brought very closely into touch with him as soon as I came to Dulwich. He was the captain of the XV and of the football of the College during my first year; and I relied on him mainly for the organising and inspiring of the games. There his energy and keenness were invaluable to us. Then, as a prefect, he used to bring his essays every week; and I was greatly impressed by his intellectual power and promise. I remember how full his essays were of matter; how ready he was to grasp and to originate new ideas; how vividly and emphatically he expressed himself. We looked forward to a brilliant and useful career for him. But it was not to be. It is very hard to lose him. But he has done his duty; and he leaves behind him a memory that we of the old school must especially cherish and honour.

The Reverend A. H. Gilkes, Vicar of St. Mary Magdalene, Oxford, formerly Headmaster of Dulwich College, in a touching tribute to the "n.o.ble character of your brave, dear and able son," said: "I sympathise with you fully and deeply. It means little, I know, to you in your trouble, but I trust it means something, that your son was so much loved and admired, and is so sadly missed by so many. He was fearless, strong and capable, and his heart was as soft and kind as a heart can be. I thought that he would do great things; and indeed, sad though it is, I do not know that he could have done a greater."

Mr. J. A. Joerg, princ.i.p.al of the Modern Side, Dulwich College, a gentleman of German antecedents, for whom my son had a high and an unalterable regard, wrote:

It was with the greatest horror that I read of the fall in action of your hero-son Paul. I read his n.o.ble character during the many years he was with me, and I recognised and admired the great sense of justice and duty and loyalty that were such prominent features with him. His deep grat.i.tude for anything that was done for him will always be remembered by me. He was a n.o.ble boy. I shall always reverence his memory.

Mr. P. Hope, Cla.s.sical master at Dulwich, to whom Paul owed much when studying English literature, and whom he always recalled with affection, sent me a pen-picture of my son limned with insight and love:

_August 18th, 1917._

I have heard with deep sorrow and distress of the death of your dear son, H. P. M. Jones, killed in action. Your son was never in the Cla.s.sical Sixth at Dulwich College, and so was not directly a pupil of mine. But he often came to me for advice and help, and we often talked together about many things. I always cherished a real regard and admiration for him and his sterling qualities and great ability. He was a most kind-hearted and generous-minded boy, one who had the best interests of the school at heart, one who never spared himself if he could in any way render a service to his team or to the school as a whole; one who could be relied on to act loyally, faithfully and conscientiously in all that he did; one who would place duty before all other considerations. He was an indefatigable worker, a boy of great power and promise, and, so far as we could prophesy, was sure to achieve a high and distinguished position for himself in the world later on. He was greatly beloved by the boys, his own school-fellows, and honoured and respected by all his masters.

I well remember how he gave up hour after hour of his own time out of school to the training of the XV; how he would throw himself heart and soul into the heavy work connected with the organisation of the school football and games generally, and how he would do all in his power to make things happier and easier for the boys with whose welfare he was entrusted. He was indeed, as he grew older, just one of those men whom we could least of all spare in these days, the very embodiment in himself of all that is best in the public-school spirit, the very incarnation of self-sacrifice and devotion. I cannot tell you how much we shall miss him at the College among the Old Boys. There is no name or memory that we shall hold more dear than that of your much-loved son. He has died, even as he lived, in fulfilment of the high ideal which he set before him, and there could be no n.o.bler or more glorious death.

Though our loss is great, yours is unspeakably greater. Our hearts go out to you in reverent sympathy. As we think of the dear ones who have made the great sacrifice for us, it is hard to fix our thoughts on the contemplation of their s.h.i.+ning example, to find satisfaction in the a.s.surance that their memory and their inspiration can never die. It is so human and so natural that we should miss them in their actual presence in our midst; and their absence leaves such a hideous gap in our lives which nothing can ever fill. But maybe as the days go by we shall understand more clearly the real value of their sacrifice and their life and death.

"Salute the sacred dead, Who went and who return not-- Say not so!

We rather seem the dead That stayed behind."

Your son was a truly good, simple-hearted, modest, gallant man: he has contributed his part to the making of the new world which we all pray will follow after the war--the new rule of righteousness and peace. He shall not be without his reward; and you, too, who have taught him from childhood and filled his mind with your own ideals, may remember him with pride as having fulfilled the highest aspirations which you had formed for him.

Mr. E. H. Gropius, who was captain of the school in 1914, when my son was at the head of the Modern Side, writes:

Paul was a friend of mine long before he reached the brilliant position he held when he left Dulwich. During his last two terms I got to know him still better and to admire him more, not only for his intellectual and athletic brilliance, but for his solid qualities, his strength of character and sound judgment. He was one of the best footer captains we have had, and he never once put his own personal feelings before the good of the school. As for in-school footer, he absolutely reformed it. Not that footer is the most important thing in a man's life. But if a man can play as he did, he must be a sportsman; and Paul died as he lived, a great sportsman. He could quite easily have kept in the A.S.C., but he preferred to do more. It is men like he was that we need most, but even if he is not with us his memory is. His influence at school was enormous; to all who knew him that influence will remain a powerful factor in their lives. Though we had hoped to be up in Oxford together, it could not be. Had he gone up his genius would certainly have made its mark.

When I think of my last year and the great times we had at Dulwich, it seems impossible that I shan't see Paul again. He was absolutely one of the best, the very best. But I am sure he would not wish us to be over-miserable on his account. His last letter gives a perfect picture of his mind and character. I really believe that he did welcome the war, not as a war, but because it gave him, as well as others, the chance of seeing things in their true light.... When I saw Mrs. Bamkin a few weeks ago we talked very intimately about Paul. She knew him only through her own boy who was killed in July, 1915, and through what other fellows and myself had said--and we came to the conclusion that Paul's was one of the finest characters of my time at school.... He inspired in me all the highest feelings. His example will help us on and he will live among us still.

A young German, Mr. Gerald Roederwald, a fellow-student with my son in the Modern Sixth, wrote:

I did not think that Paul would ever be able to get into the firing-line at all, but it was just like him to seek the thick of danger. Reading his last letter it seemed to me just as though we were still at school together in the midst of an argument. Often have I thought of "H. P. M." as we used to call him at school. We all liked him. What a career his would surely have been! It was an accepted tradition amongst us that old "H. P. M." would one day astonish the world. Those who knew him well derived great benefit from his cultured mind. I myself owe more than I can express to your son's influence over me. No one who came near him could help coming under the spell of his personality. His remarkable intellectual gifts made us feel that he was our superior. Not only that, his great stature seemed to be the essence of his whole being. I mean that everything about him was on a large scale. Nature had gifted him with a generous, open mind, which was incapable of taking in anything that was small or mean. Whenever Paul spoke to me his eyes seemed to probe into the depths of my whole being. As long as I live I shall never forget him. His spirit is with me always, for it is to him that I owe my first real insight into Life.

From Mr. Raymond T. Young, Felsted School:

I knew Paul as a small boy at Brightlands ten years ago. He was in my form and had already begun to show great promise intellectually and as a sound and splendid boy. Afterwards I came across him when he played such a fine game for the Dulwich Rugger side. Had he been spared, I quite think he would have taken a "Blue" at forward for Oxford. You must comfort yourselves with the constant thought that you have given for England one whose whole life was as perfect and true as it was full of promise of great things; and also you must be very proud of having had so much to give.

The Master of Balliol (Mr. Arthur L. Smith), writing on 21st August, 1917, said:

In sending you the official condolences of the college on the death of your brilliant son, I should like also to express personally my own feelings of the very successful career that was open to him at Oxford, which, like so many of our best young scholars, he gave up without a moment's hesitation to serve his country and the world in this great crisis. Such a change is surely not all loss if we could see things in their true proportion and in their realities; but meantime the loss must indeed be severe to you, because you must have been justly proud of him on so many grounds. I remember how he struck me in the scholars.h.i.+p examination by the excellent way in which he put some very vigorous good sense, particularly on the subject of the character of Oliver Cromwell; and I see that my notes refer to him as "showing much vivacity of expression," "sound reading,"

"strong mental grasp and excellent arrangement and method." He also made "a most pleasing and favourable impression in 'viva voce.'" He would have been a very leading and, in the best sense, popular man in the college. His last letter is one of the finest even of the many fine letters that have been written under such circ.u.mstances during the last few years.

A high official at the War Office wrote:

In this great and cruel crisis I have had before me many things which have evoked the deepest sympathy of my heart; but I know of nothing which has distressed me more than the sad blow which you have received. Your son's whole life and his outlook on life appealed to me in a remarkable way. There was nothing mean or small in his physical form or his mental equipment; and his fine, strong joy of life, and his love for the everlasting ideals made an impression on my mind which will not readily be erased. It is not so well known as it should be how manfully he overcame every obstacle to make himself the most perfect defender of his country and how ardently he strove with a hero's heart to place his glorious gifts upon the altar of his country. He was all that the most exacting paternal standards could demand. Now that his sun has gone down while it is yet day, with all its brilliant past and all its brilliant prospects, I join with your many friends in the sincere and heartfelt hope that the courage, consolation and pride which come to those who have "nurtured the brave to do brave things" may be yours in largest measure in your hour of sore trial.

From Mr. Lionel Jones, Science headmaster, Birmingham Technical School:

I believe ours was the first house Paul visited, and I have followed his career with interest and with, indeed, a sense of pride. We had expected him to do great things; yet he has done greater, for his last letter shows he had grasped the inner meanings of Life and Death more clearly than we do, and was content to sink the lesser in the greater Being.

From Mr. Hugh Spender, Parliamentary correspondent of the _Westminster Gazette_:

I had the privilege of meeting your son, and I shall always carry a very lively recollection of him. He was so modest that I did not realise what a distinguished college career he had had. But he impressed me very vividly with the strength of his personality, remarkable in one so young. There was an air of radiant gaiety about him which sprang from a pure heart and a lofty purpose. I realised that he must have had a very great influence for good. This thought must be a great consolation to you in your grief. Here was a life "sans peur et sans reproche,"

a light to brighten the footsteps of every man who knew of him.

A well-known Professor, himself a Balliol history scholar, wrote:

I only met your son once, but I liked him much, and from the time he got the Brakenbury the promise of his future career at Balliol had a very special interest for me. I felt sure he was destined to do great things. It is tragic to know that that destiny will now never be realised; but he has done greater things; he has done the greatest thing of all. That he should have joined the Army so early and pressed for transfer to the machine-gun corps--a unit which occupies posts of the greatest danger, and is required to hold them at all costs and against all odds--makes his achievement all the more memorable. Your sorrow must indeed be great, and almost intolerable, but the thought of such a high and fearless devotion will, I trust, do something to a.s.suage it.

From Mr. William Hill, an old journalistic friend of mine:

Yesterday morning I read with regret profound, on account of the nation's loss as well as your own, the report of the death of your gallant son. Yesterday evening in a volume by Watterson--which incidentally contains a sketch of the Captain Paul Jones of history, depicted as a brilliant young man, with charms of person and graces of manner--I read in an appreciation of Abraham Lincoln a letter written by the great President to a sorely-bereaved mother, which I feel it to be a duty and an honour to recite in part to you in this hour. Lincoln wrote:

"I feel how weak and fruitless must be any words of mine which should attempt to beguile you from a loss so overwhelming. But I cannot refrain from tendering you the consolation that may be found in the thanks of the Republic they died to save. I pray that our Heavenly Father may a.s.suage the anguish of your bereavement and leave you only the cherished memory of the loved and lost, and the solemn pride that must be yours to have laid so costly a sacrifice upon the altar of Freedom."