The Shrapnel Diary
A pocket-sized diary saved the life of a Peterborough woman’s grandfather when he was serving in the First World War in the trenches of Vimy Ridge at the age of 18
A diary from the trenches of Vimy Ridge has become a family heirloom for Trish Beales.
The pocket-sized, red-leather diary may have saved her grandfather’s life.
He had it on him when he was hit with shrapnel on his second day in the trenches of Vimy Ridge.
Holding it in her hand, Beales flips through the pages, showing the hole that nearly goes from front to back. The shrapnel deflected off the book and went into Nehemiah Bartley’s arm.
“It saved his life,” said Beales, 72.
Bartley, about 18 at the time, enlisted in the army in Winnipeg in 1916. He was a private with the Winnipeg Rifles 203rd Battalion.
Soon after, he was sent overseas, where he spent time on the frontlines in France and Belgium.
During that time, Bartley wrote home to Mabel Brown, a woman who later became his wife.
Last year, Beales inherited her grandfather’s letters to Brown, along with other memorabilia he’d kept from the war.
It was passed down to her father, then her mother, and now belongs to Beales, who lives near Del Crary Park.
Among the mementoes are photos, a pay book, medals and pins, a ration book, a discharge certificate, a letter from King George V, an account of his shrapnel wound, and a small black-leather bible from Brown’s parents.
Of all the keepsakes, Beales is particularly moved by the diary and the letter that followed.
Bartley first mailed the diary to Brown, which he later followed up with a letter asking it she’d received it. His letters were always written in pencil, now faded, but still legible.
“I wouldn’t want to lose it for anything,” Bartley writes in his letter. “It is the best souvenir I have. The piece of shrapnel that got me through it was a little smeared with blood. If had been going straight through I would have had a little piece of real estate in France now, but I was one of the lucky ones.”
A letter, typed in bold, black ink on paper as thin as tissue paper, describes the incident. It was documented when Bartley was sent back to England to heal.
“I didn’t get hurt very bad. Just a nice flesh wound in the left arm about two inches below the shoulder. It was shrapnel. Went clear through .... It was sure some hot hole,” the letter read.
Beales gets a chuckle out of the language her grandfather used.
In reading the letters, she notices that despite the horror her grandpa was going through, they’re all very light-hearted.
“It seemed to be the way they handled it,” she said.
Looking through Bartley’s pay book, Beales reads a breakdown of soldiers’ pay. They received $1.10 per day, averaging $33 a month. When Bartley was discharged in 1919, he had $143.55.
Mixed in with all the yellowed paper lying on Beales’ dining room table was a brief note with letterhead from Buckingham Palace.
“The Queen and I wish you God’s speed and a safe return to your homes and dear ones. A grateful mother country is proud of your splendid services characterized as unsurpassed devotion and courage,” it read, signed by George R.J.
Something Beales found surprising from reading all the letters was how well Canadians were treated when they arrived in England.
They were put up in London and given a tour of the Parliament by a London MP. They also toured the city, visiting an art museum, the Natural History Museum and Lord Rothschild’s residence.
“They were hugely well received and well treated,” said Beales, a mother of two.
When the war was over, Bartley was sent to Floreffe, Belgium. In a letter to Brown dated Feb. 1, 1919, he said he was unable to return home because of a railway strike.
“Can’t get away on account of no trains,” Bartley wrote.
He made the best of it though, making friends with a Belgian family whose kids he took on bobsled rides.
Photos of Bartley’s battalion also lay on Beales’ table, along with a portrait of her grandfather in uniform when he joined the war and another of him about the time he got married.
Beales mentions the noticeable difference in her grampa’s eyes. They appear “haunted” in his postwar photo.
She wonders how veterans were ever able to move on after what they experienced overseas.
It seemed as though the attitude back then was to make fun of what had happened – if they talked about it at all – and to pick up life where they left off.
“Certainly my grandfather seemed to be able to do that and I find that quite amazing, if he was very changed by it, no one knew that.”
Bartley went on to Brown and have six kids.
His granddaughter feels fortunate to have a piece of family history, which she’ll pass down to her children.
Exploring Bartley’s life overseas through documents has also been a way to get to know her grandfather better. He died when she was 17.
“It’s wonderful to have all of this.”
On Remembrance Day, she’ll be thinking of her grandfather and her dad, Hugh Bartly, who fought in the Second World War.
Hugh was in the air force. While flying a mosquito over Belgium, his plan broke down and crashed, killing the navigator.
“But that’s a whole other story,” Beales said smiling.