Duck in a “dark spot”

During and immediately after World War I, shooting opportunities were rare but were great for augmenting the food supply, says Stanley Duncan

Of the many incidents directly connected with coast shooting during World War I, several have left their impressions. On one occasion during February 1917, after permission had been granted for flight shooting, it was possible for me to get away for a few hours at the weekend. Arriving fairly late in the afternoon, I met an old friend, Mr Pegden, coming away, having fired all his cartridges and saying that wigeon were as thick as flies in the bay.

On the scene, Mr Atkin — treasurer of the wildfowlers’ association — dressed in khaki and returned from the front, greeted me by asking: “Brought any cartridges?” After dividing the 30 or so cartridges I possessed, he and I took stands about 100 yards apart. That flight I shall never forget. In about three minutes all our cartridges were fired and there we stood while thousands of wigeon streamed along, all within shot.

Gathering our spoils, about 10 couple, we journeyed homewards, agreeing that neither of us had ever previously witnessed such a flight in England. Mr Atkin spent several years in Canada 35 years ago, and shot duck there, but had not seen the like before. We attributed the extraordinary abundance of wigeon to wartime conditions and the weather.

For a time during the war, shooting on the coast — the east and south — was prohibited, but so acute did the situation become that permission was granted to officers and others to shoot wildfowl in the havens and suchlike. My experiences ranged over a considerable length of coastline, but that which excited my interest most were certain shores of Lincolnshire.

Mallard and wigeon

Here, with a great deal of influence and favour, I was allowed in 1917 to join forces with certain officers to flight mallard and wigeon. A Captain Stubington, from Nottingham, whom I had several times met down at Frieston shore curlew shooting years before the war, was attached to the 46 • SHOOTING TIMES & COUNTRY MAGAZINE Command and kindly secured for me the necessary permits.

On the three occasions I ventured abroad, very poor sport resulted. First, after struggling through barbedwire entanglements for half a mile out on to the “fitties” (saltings), it was to find every officer of the camp “in situ” with a gun, as word had passed around. The Major had the previous night “fired 40 cartridges”, with results that were not encouraging. Certain informants declared not a single bird was gathered to the mess.

As might be expected, duck were few and late. Consequently, to the dozen Guns there assembled not a duck was shot. The next evening,

“In winter 1919 extraordinary visitations of mallard were exemplified by the bags made of them”