An ill-fated voyage – the SS Verdala, March 1916

Many reading this article will be aware of the name of the SS Verdala, a ship that, because of an infamous voyage in March 1916, has left an indelible mark on the history of the British West Indies Regiment. it is worth repeating what happened as, although the story has echoed down through the years, some of the detail is not well known.

The Verdala was one of several ships that transported recruits across the Atlantic in 1915 and 1916, bringing  men from across the Caribbean to support the war effort. She had made successful crossings in October and November 1915 bringing over 1,200 men, many of whom left Plymouth on another ship, the Marathon, in January 1916 bound for service in Egypt.

It was the Verdala‘s third voyage in March 1916 that went disastrously wrong.

According to a report in the Gleaner after the event, the Verdala’s outbound voyage from England to Jamaica had been a risky one as the ship was sighted by a German U-boat and the men on board ordered to don life jackets. The Royal Navy’s HMS Sydney came to the rescue and, on the point of capture, the commander of the U-boat blew up his own vessel. According to the Gleaner this took place on 26^th February, ‘there was joy on the Verdala that day. The ship reached Jamaica safely and shortly after took on that colony’s contingent for service bound for England.’

Things did not go smoothly.

Leaving Jamaica on 6^th March with 1,160 men on board, a breakage of the steering gear after only a few miles forced a return to the island and it was the 11^th before they were able to set off again – an inauspicious start or, as one contemporary writer put it, ‘superstitious people, ever on the lookout for omens, did not like this turning back of the ship.'^[1]Jamaica and the Great War by Herbert G De Lisser, pub. May 1917

Perhaps spooked by the encounter with a U-boat on the way out, the captain of the Verdala headed north, hugging the eastern seaboard of America instead of striking out directly across the Atlantic. Once they reached Halifax, Nova Scotia, the plan was for the ship to join a convoy for the voyage to England. This might have worked were it not for the atrocious weather they experienced. By the time they arrived in Halifax the temperature was -14^o Centigrade. Eventually the decision was made to divert the ship to Bermuda where she arrived on 29^th March with many of the troops in a very sorry condition.

When the ship arrived in Bermuda, Lieutenant General George Bullock, Commander-in-Chief, Bermuda, reported that ‘I found the Battalion in a very deplorable condition,’ he reports that there were ‘120 cases of frostbite and 150 cases of swollen feet.’ He goes on to explain the circumstances that gave rise to this ‘on arrival in Halifax they struck an exceedingly cold snap, the thermometer being at one time as low as 7^o Fahrenheit [-14^o Centigrade]. By some unlucky mishap the bales containing warm socks were not put on the ship at Jamaica.’^[2]It has been suggested that the socks had never been shipped to Jamaica from England, see https://www.torontomu.ca/news-events/news/2018/02/the-halifax-incident/ He adds finally that ‘the Verdala is a ship not well suited to a voyage to a severe climate like the Canadian or indeed for any long voyage with troops on board.’

Bullock tried to lay a portion of the blame on the men themselves in the most patronising tone ‘it is reported to me that on approaching the colder climate of Halifax men used their blankets to cover up their heads and shoulders and so left their feet exposed. This is a very usual practice among the coloured people of the West Indies and I am of the opinion that it was a contributory cause of many cases of frostbite.’ This was not a view supported by the Officers who had actually been on board.

The commanding officer of the troops on the ship, Major G V Hart, gave a detailed report of the voyage.^[3]TNA CO 318/339 As they steamed north and it became colder the warm clothing was issued at which point it became apparent that ‘no warm socks had been placed on board’ and the men only had ‘very thin cotton socks such as are issued to the Contingent for use in Jamaica.’ The men also had ‘only two blankets apiece.’

They arrived in Halifax on 22^nd where no one had been warned of their imminent arrival. That evening, ‘a severe blizzard started and lasted all the next day. By the 24^th there were 537 cases of swollen feet and frostbite and ‘all the fresh water pipes on the ship were frozen. In consequence of which no warm food or drink was obtainable until after 2 p.m. The Red Cross delivered 700 pairs of thick socks and during the night of 24^th heating stoves were installed throughout the ship ‘this certainly improved matters but the damage had already been done.’ The Verdala left Halifax on 26^th, leaving 106 of the worst affected men behind to receive treatment (two men died and are buried there).

Seventeen of the men who remained behind in Halifax were part of a pilot project run by the Canadian Military Hospitals Commission in conjunction with the Nova Scotia Technical College and were fitted with artificial limbs made in Canada. This pioneering work was led by the newly created Dominion Artificial Limb Institute in Toronto. They also received vocational training to help them make a successful transition back into civilian life.^[4]https://www.torontomu.ca/news-events/news/2018/02/the-halifax-incident/ At least ten others returned to Jamaica in December 1916 to be fitted with artificial limbs there.^[5]De Lisser, op.cit. page 112

Meanwhile, the Verdala headed for the warmer climes of Bermuda. ‘We had on board 377 men unable to do more than crawl about.’

The captain of the ship, F H Cooke, summed up by saying the causes of the problems were:

• climate conditions that were ‘absolutely unsuitable’ for West Indian troops;
• insufficient protection from the cold, ‘the ship was not and could not be heated’;
• insufficient blankets, although two blankets each would have been sufficient had the ship followed the same course as on her two previous voyages, he pointed out that in a properly heated barracks in Nova Scotia the normal allowance was four blankets per man; and
• the absence of warm socks.

Papers at the National Archives, Kew, suggest, in fact, this was a disaster waiting to happen and owed much to the penny pinching of the British Government.

In August 1915 another ship, the Tagus, had been suggested for use as a troop transport but was rejected by the Colonial Secretary, Bonar Law, on grounds of cost, ‘a very costly ship for the purpose.’^[6]CO 318/337/29 The Verdala was chosen instead.

Rather belatedly the unsuitability of the Verdala was recognised and the Magdalena was sent to Bermuda to transport the troops stranded there who were fit enough to make the onward journey to England, she arrived in Plymouth on 7^th June.

News of the tragedy reached Jamaica and was reported in the front page of the Gleaner’s 5^th April edition: ‘FROST BITTEN: Transport with third contingent runs into a Canadian blizzard, volunteers suffer severely. 106 MEN REMOVED FROM SHIP TO HOSPITAL. Three of the Soldiers will lose one or both feet.’

The Gleaner was keen to dispel what it called ‘alarmist reports.’ The paper included a statement from the Governor which tried to put as positive a gloss as possible on what was undoubtedly grim news, ‘forty others may lose a toe. This latter amputation will not interfere with efficiency of the men as soldiers and if they are still keen on going to the front they will be sent to England as soon as they are completely recovered.’ It is not known how many of the men took up this offer. The Governor expressed the view that further recruitment would not be affected.

The editorial rejoiced, prematurely, that no lives had been lost.

In fact five of those who set off with such high hopes on the Verdala are buried at the Somerset Military burial ground, Bermuda (near to the Dockyard where the Verdala would have berthed) and a further two at Prospect Hill Military Cemetery (close to the capital, Hamilton, and the island’s main hospital). This is in addition to the two others buried in Halifax, Nova Scotia.

One of those who survived the voyage was Eugent Clarke (No.3931). In fact, he did not just survive the nightmare voyage via Halifax, he eventually made it to Plymouth and from there he went on to serve in Egypt, France and Belgium. Born in Jamaica in 1894, he died there in 2002 at the age of 108. In 2002 he was proud to meet Queen Elizabeth II and he was awarded the Legion of Honour by the French government to wear alongside his British medals.

Recruitment was temporarily suspended but efforts would continue to get people registered. 381 men hoping to be part of the fourth contingent were already waiting at Swallowfield Camp. The Gleaner editorial said that in future ‘efforts should be made to send them over in spring, summer and early autumn. It will be cold in autumn, but at that time the cold will be bracing, health-giving; the men will benefit vastly from a few weeks of cold weather,’ easy words to write from the comfort of a Kingston office desk.

The Gleaner was quick to set up a Contingent Sufferers Fund and by 14^th April had already raised its first £100. A letter from Brigadier General L S Blackden featured prominently in which he expressed himself in robust terms about the ‘stupid blunder’ and he went on ‘we all feel indignation that that blunder could have been made and that too many of the brave lads that left our shores full of high hopes and courage are now maimed for life.’ De Lisser comments that ‘outspoken criticism against those responsible for sending peasants of a tropical country to Canada at such a bitter time of year was soon heard everywhere.'^[7]De Lisser, op.cit. His choice of the word peasants to describe the men is astonishing. The Gleaner’s fund was intended to help with the cost of artificial limbs and rehabilitation for the men. Blackden contributed £10 to the fund.

In 11^th May edition, the Gleaner announced that ‘a palatial steamer would be coming to Jamaica next month to take away the fourth draft of the Jamaica contingent. The steamer, it appears, ‘will have everything that the Verdala lacked.’ The replacement promised to be ‘as fine a vessel as anyone could have the wish to have the pleasure of spending a couple of weeks upon.’ The editorial went on to describe the Verdala as ‘a poor sort of transport.’

Recruitment may have faltered temporarily following the Verdala’s mishap but in the long run there was no shortage of Jamaican volunteers and the next contingent left Jamaica in September. Between March and October 1917 Jamaica raised a further five contingents totalling over 6,500 officers and men.^[8]‘No Labour, No Battle’. The History Press, 2009, page 242 All told, Jamaican recruits accounted for around two thirds of the BWIR’s manpower over the course of the War.^[9]The Imperial War Museum: How the West Indies helped the war effort in the First World War.

The Verdala’s ill-fated voyage appears to have escaped the attention of the British press.

The Bermuda graves

On two beautiful spring days in April 2024 we were able to visit the graves of the men buried on the island.  The men were all Privates.

Somerset Military Cemetery

There is a memorial to the BWIR men at the entrance to the cemetery, the cause of death is shown as ‘pneumonia’.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This cemetery is in an exposed position and, although it was a beautiful day when we visited, there is little protection from Atlantic gales when they blow. The headstones are generally quite worn but still legible.

Private J J Watson, No.4674, died on 5^th April 1916. He was the son of Mrs Sarah T Watson and she probably would have been the person who agreed the  wording of the personal inscription on his headstone:

SLEEP BELOVED AND REST

WE MOURNED THY LOSS ON EARTH

BUT HOPE TO MEET

IN YONDER BLISS

 

Private Arthur Liloup Donald, No.4700, was twenty-three years old when he died on 9^th April. He was the son of Wiloby Witcomb and Margaret James of Port Henderson, Rosemary Castle, Jamaica. Born at St Catherine. His headstone was erected or replaced in October 1984:

Private J E Barrett, No.4720, died on 10^th April.

He was the son of Mrs Elizabeth Shittlewood (formerly Barrett) of Bethel Tarvin, Westmorland, Jamaica.

Below left is the grave of:

Private C Hanson, No.4829, who was twenty-three when he died on 11th April.

Below right is the grave of:

Private C Morrison, No.4690, who died two days later on 13th April.

 

     

The BWIR men share the cemetery with men of the East Yorkshire Regiment, one Canadian and four men of the Bermuda Militia Artillery. The latter four all died on the 17^th February 1915 as the result of an accident when a building they were working on partially collapsed.^[10]The Royal Gazette, Bermuda, 18^th February 1915 Bermuda,

Prospect Hill Military Cemetery

The Prospect Hill Military Cemetery is tucked away behind a nondescript housing estate just outside the capital, Hamilton. It was so tucked away that our taxi driver had to ask directions as he was unaware of its existence. Its sheltered position means that the headstones are generally in better condition than those at Somerset.

Two men from the Verdala are buried here.

Below are the headstones of:

Private Edwin Philip McKenzie, No.4673, he was considerably older than most recruits, forty-four when he died on 5^th April. He left a widow, Elizabeth McKenzie, of 26 Rodney Street, Admiral Pen, Kingston, Jamaica.

and:

Private Gabriel Alexander Graham, No.4735, son of Nicholas and Ann Rebecca Graham of Sheffield, Westmorland, Jamaica. He was the last of the Verdala men to die on Bermuda (he died on 18^th April).

Conclusion

The men of the BWIR served with distinction once they got the chance to do so but, due to a mixture of bad luck and the incompetence of the British authorities, the men buried on Bermuda did not get that chance.