Battle of Passchendaele

Lord Hutton of Furness Excerpts

Thursday 19th October 2017 Lords Chamber

[Lord Hutton of Furness (Lab)]

My Lords, I warmly congratulate the noble Lord, Lord Black of Brentwood, on calling this debate, and on the tone of his remarks; he made a powerful and moving speech. Indeed, we have heard several such speeches today. Like him and others, I feel it is a great personal privilege to be able to speak today as we commemorate the third Battle of Ypres, the battle that became known as Passchendaele. I congratulate all those who have been involved in the commemoration events so far, both here and abroad. My noble friend Lady Andrews has reminded us of the excellent work of the English Heritage Lottery Fund as well.

What we are doing today in commemorating these events is truly right and proper. It is 100 years since that terrible battle took place. When we commit ourselves to acts of commemoration, even when we have debates in this Chamber, we strengthen the bonds that separate us now from our grandfathers and great-grandfathers who served with such distinction in the battle. As many others have said, arguments continue to rage over whether what was achieved during the titanic struggle in the second half of 1917 at Ypres was worth the cost. Every aspect of the battle—its inception, execution and continuance—has become a matter of great historical and public controversy. However, the commemorations of the battle are probably neither the time nor the place to take that controversy forward. Instead, our purpose should be to reflect on the courage, humanity and sacrifice of those who fought at Passchendaele, people from every part of our country and the Commonwealth, from every walk of life.

When I was thinking about saying a few words today, I thought the best words for us to hear were not mine—everyone would probably agree—but of those who fought, many of whom died. Sergeant John Carmichael of the 9th Battalion of the North Staffordshire Regiment was serving in September 1917 on Hill 60 on the Ypres battlefield. He was supervising a working party of his men who came across a grenade while digging a new communication trench. These are his words:

“One of the chaps was deepening the trench when his spade struck an unexploded grenade … and it started to fizz … I knew that there would be seven seconds before it went off unless I did something. I couldn’t throw it out, because there were men working outside the trench … All I had was my steel helmet. So I took it off my head, put it over the grenade as it was fizzing away, and stood on it … They tell me it blew me right out of the trench”.


When he woke up in hospital, he wrote a letter to his mother in Airdrie saying that he was fine and well, but he forgot to tell her that he had been awarded the Victoria Cross for his actions.

When it comes to humanity, I cannot think of anything more powerful than the image described by Private Bill Smith, who was serving with the 2nd New Zealand Machine Gun Company in October 1917. As the fighting inched its way towards Passchendaele Ridge, he witnessed something that still makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. He said: “We took advantage of a lull to lug three or four of our wounded mates down to Waterloo Farm, where our part in the advance had started the morning before … what a sight the place presented. Now we saw that it was a mass of shell holes full of water, and on the parts of firm ground between the holes there were scores, even hundreds, of wounded men lying there, 40 and also by their mates. In front, there were long lines of Northumberland Fusiliers and Durham Light Infantry, lying dead almost in formation when they had been mown down like wheat. Amid the fury and shelling, the Maoris were there. They had formed relays to get the wounded out but there were no stretchers, so they carried them to safety in their arms like children”.

Another example of humanity that really touched me was reported by Rifleman Jim Maxwell of the 11th Battalion The Rifle Brigade. Early in the battle he and his mates were laying new tracks to take materials up to the front line. He said:

“By dusk, we’d been at that job for eight hours or more and the wounded were still coming down. Two of the RAMC stopped just by our working party. They were carrying a young German private, obviously very seriously wounded. They laid the stretcher down … and asked if anyone spoke German. Our lance-corporal said, ‘Yes, I can speak a bit.’ ... one of them said, ‘Well, just have a word with this lad if you can, will you?’ So he bent over the stretcher”,


held the young German soldier’s hand,

“and said something to this boy. Some words of comfort in German. And the boy looked at him, and he said just one word, ‘Mutti’”—

“Mum”.

“Then he died. We knocked off, but I kept thinking about him”—


this young German boy.

“They were in the same boat as ourselves”.


When it comes to sacrifice, one thinks of the First Battalion the Hertfordshire Regiment, which took part in the fighting at St Julien the beginning of the battle. Company Quartermaster Sergeant George Fisher, who was to survive the battle, was given rations to take up to his battalion. After several hours of work, George found his way to brigade headquarters. He said:

“‘I went down the stairs, saluted the Brigadier”—


usually a good thing to do—

“told him who I was and said, ‘Could you give me any instructions, sir, that would help me find my battalion?’. He just stood and looked at me. We were both standing on the steps and the pillbox was rocking like a boat in a rough sea with explosions. He said, ‘I’m sorry, Quarters, I’m afraid there isn’t any Hertfordshire Regiment”.

Of the 650 men who had begun the attack that morning, only a handful ever returned.

Those are some of the many poignant and moving stories that can be found about the battle of Passchendaele. Many things divide us in our country today, be they politics, faith, religion or whatever, but I hope our shared history, the recognition of the service and sacrifice of previous generations, should never be a cause for division.