Reverend Godric Kean
Medal
Index Card
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Godric Kean was born at Crook near Durham in 1866. He
was ordained at Fribourg, Switzerland on 22 March 1896
and after serving at a number of churches in the Salford
Diocese was appointed to St. Marys Roman Catholic
Church, Oldham in 1911. In April 1915 together with a
number of other priests from the Salford Diocese he was
appointed chaplain to the forces, joining the 12th Durham
Light Infantry at their camp at Bramshott near Bordon
in Hampshire. The Battalion was transferred to France
in August 1915.
The 12th Durham Light Infantry entered the Battle of
the Somme battle on 3 July and was involved in the capture
of Contalmasion on 10 July.
This letter, dated 25 July 1916, is the last of the series
of letters from Godric Kean to appear in the Oldham Chronicle:
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"We have been in the thick of the battle.
It was the lot of my brigade to take an early and important
part in the great offensive and a successful one too.
I was attached to a field ambulance. What a time I had! What
sights I saw! How brave our men in action, how patient in suffering,
how cheerful at all times. One fine young officer was brought
in, a splendid fellow, one of magnificent physique. His legs
were shattered by shrapnel; the both had to be taken off. He
never murmured. Recovering consciousness after the operation,
he smiled and thanked the doctors for what they had done for
him, and the poor fellow died a few hours afterwards. Some of
the wounded in the broadest of Lancashire and Yorkshire dialect
would create mirth even in the operating theatre, where their
wounds were being dressed, by the recital of droll incidents
either in connection with what they had gone through on the
field of battle or by some witty remark regarding their prospective
voyage to Blighty land. I have seen men in most
excruciating pain acting as stoically as to manifest almost
an imperviousness to sufferings.
What is the cause of this? How has it come
about, for surely it is something superhuman. Is it that God
gives a special aid in a special case an auxiliary help
to a particular vocation? But I must not go into metaphysical
speculations, for all do not bear pain with the same Spartan-like
temperament, and you are a much more advanced student of human
nature than I am; you are profoundly a thinker, I not.
Well, we are pushing on; not swiftly, but surely.
Every inch of ground we take is drenched with blood. As we must
advance, and as against the Germans, with their scientific warfare,
their organisation, their courage, and their resource, the price
to be paid for our progress must be blood; that blood has flowed
freely, copiously, and, alas! From the youngest, the purest,
and the strongest veins of the nations manhood.
Hundreds of German prisoners have passed through
our quarter. Many have been attended to by our ambulance. I
buried one; he was brought in in a dying state. From accounts
given by them, and I interrogated dozens, their forces lost
heavily. We had the Prussian Guards, Wurtemburgers, and Saxons
up against us. Not one seemed to regret having been taken, with
the single exception of a young probation officer. Their suffering
had been great. Many had been without food for four days, they
said. They were at once supplied with hot tea of coffee and
bread, and so great is the kindheartedness of our soldiers that
they would give the prisoners even their own cigarettes. The
young officer whom I referred to was expecting his commission
or promotion this month. He did not attempt to conceal his disappointment
and disgust at having been taken. He had spent some time in
England, probably as a spy, and was occupied in some engineering
work in Birmingham. He had also passed some time in France.
As I sat by his side I could easily perceive that in his being
taken a proud bird had been captured, and one that would like
to break the bayonet bars of his British cage. A prisoner!
A prisoner! he muttered aloud, and then with an expression
of satisfaction Well, I have done my duty. No doubt
he had by sending gas shells to poison those whom fair
fight could not overcome.
Many of our poor fellows came in suffering
from gas shells. I had as many as twenty three of the Munsters
(Irish Regiment) lying around in the open-air at once, all poisoned.
We are just having a few days respite
before returning to action again, so I take occasion to write
to you. In spite of all I love the army life. If I ever return
to civil life it will be with reluctance. I want to see the
thing through I am, thank God, in the best of health
and all here have bright hopes. We are cheerful, even
joyful. What shall we be when victory crowns our efforts? "