Trench Journals: The Red Feather, Journal of the 6th (Service) Battalion, Duke of Cornwall Light Infantry. An Introduction

At a talk I gave on my research into the Wipers Times back in June 2024, I mentioned the journal the Red Feather, the regimental magazine of the 6th (Service) Battalion, Duke of Cornwall Light Infantry (DCLI). I was pleasantly surprised when it came up in the questions after the talk, as, in my opinion — although there were only eight issues of the magazine between December 1914 and September 1916 — this journal and its story is one of the standout examples of trench journalism of the war.

Several elements set it apart from the rest, such as the exceptional writing quality, which can be attributed in part to one of its founders being Major Robert McGowan Barrington-Ward DSO, MC (1891-1948). Barrington-Ward, educated at Oxford, was, pre-war, a journalist for The Times. His writing skills were later employed by GHQ in the production of training manuals, notably 'SS198 Tactical Instructions for the Offensive 1918' (I realise this reference may seem niche, but I do know at least one person out there will appreciate it!), and a contemporary called him 'the keystone of military leaflet production'.¹ He was also very much the soldier, being mentioned in Dispatches on three occasions and awarded both the Distinguished Service Order and the Military Cross. Post-war, he resumed his journalistic career and was later Editor of The Times from 1941 to 1948.²

Another standout feature of the Red Feather was the sardonic wit that ran through it. This is almost certainly down to one of its other founders, Frederick Hillersdon 'Ben' Keeling (1886-1916), who formed a friendship with Barrington-Ward on joining. Barrington-Ward also attributed the magazine's success to Keeling's contributions and endeavours.³

It is hard to summarise who Ben Keeling was; his name appears in all manner of places, and he is criminally in need of a good biography. He was good friends with the poet Rupert Brooke (1887-1915), and the two initially signed up for the Artists Rifles in 1914. They had become friends at Trinity College Cambridge, where Keeling had been involved in the refounding of the Fabian Society at the university.⁴ Through the Society, his path crossed with notable individuals, including John Maynard Keynes (1883-1946) and H.G. Wells (1866-1946).⁵ After leaving Cambridge, he went on to write for the New Statesman and, from an early age, was a staunch socialist and fighter of inequality. As part of the so-called 'Lost Generation' narrative, he was named as a wasted future leader.⁶

Trying to describe him is further complicated by the fact that he seemed to have acted contrary to how you might have expected, exemplified by his decision to enlist. He was a committed pacifist and wrote many articles to that effect, however — after weighing the pros and cons about the morality of the war — he hoped the moral results would outweigh the material costs, concluding that by joining up he would become a stronger pacifist, writing 'I don't feel one will have earned the right to be one, unless one has gone in with the rest'.⁷ Unlike his friend Brooke and many in his social standing, he turned down a commission, instead choosing to join the ranks, enlisting as a private with the DCLI.

After having earnt his Sergeant stripes, he was seen by the other NCOs and Officers as a great disciplinarian but was considered suspect by the men as he was a 'Gentleman-ranker'. However, he turned this around by showing the men kindness — expanding his energies into ensuring their comfort and needs and fully embracing the Regimental Spirit. He became, in Barrington-Ward's words, 'An institution and a regular Pillar of the battalion'. As a further endorsement, Barrington-Ward added the following parenthesis: 'I am not exaggerating'.⁸ Keeling would later become the Sergeant Major of the Grenadier company. While serving in the army, he continued to write for the New Statesman on subjects such as pacifism and conscription.⁹ Keeping with his nonchalance and non-conformities, he also refused to shave off his beard (a privilege in the British Army reserved for Pioneer Sergeants only), arguing that 'what was good enough for the King of England was good enough for Private Keeling'.¹⁰

While there is no biography of Keeling, there does exist an edited collection of letters that were published in 1918, which is another reason why this journal stands out, because, as far as I am aware, regarding Trench Journalism, this is the only British example of having a detailed holography from an editor of a publication. The foreword in this collection, written by H.G. Wells, sheds further light on the complexity of his character:

BEN KEELING was a copious, egotistical, rebellious, disorderly, generous, and sympathetic young man. His egotism is the prime cause of this book; he wrote abundant letters, and they were often about himself; he talked and thought a great deal about himself, he experimented conspicuously with his life, and so he can be documented as most of his compeers in these late years of tragedy, though just as active and gallant as he, cannot be documented.¹¹

Finally, regarding other personnel involved in the magazine's running, the journal's first Editor was Major Carew A. Barnett (1866-1915), an old dug-out, having gone onto the retired list in 1908. He had served most of his career in India with the 91st Punjabis and the Burma Military police.¹² There is a misconception that those higher-up in the army looked down on journals, but here — and there are many examples to this effect — is an example of them being actively involved. I believe this misconception to be a recent invention, as trench journals share their DNA with regimental journals, and as part of their purpose was to foster esprit de corps and the regimental identity, a career soldier such as Barnett would have perfectly understood this. From his obituary, the impression of Barnett is one of a man who was well-liked by his men and was an enthusiastic, animated, patriotic character.¹³

Before getting to the magazine, a brief summary of who the 6th DCLI were:

The Duke of Cornwall Light Infantry was established in 1881, from the merger of the 32nd Cornwall Light Infantry and the regiment of foot 46th South Devonshire. The regiment was named after Queen Victoria's eldest son, the future King Edward VII. The regiment's nickname 'Red Feathers' came from the 46th's actions in the American War of Independence; in 1777, they attacked General Wayne's brigade at Brandywine Creek, inflicting over 300 casualties on Wayne's forces. The Americans swore vengeance and 'would give no quarter'. Therefore, the soldiers of the 46th Regiment dyed their hat feathers red to ensure they were easily recognisable and to prevent any other units from being mistaken for them and suffering as a result.¹⁴

The 6th Service Battalion was formed in Bodmin in August 1914, as part of Kitchener's First New Army. They were deployed to France on 25 July 1915.

The Magazine

The Red Feather first appeared in December of 1914, while they were still in England undertaking training — this is another reason the magazine stands out, as the story begins here. This isn't the only example of a journal starting at home; another notable example is the Outpost, the magazine of the 17th Highland Light Infantry.

Pre-war, as a generalisation, regimental journals tended to be on the conservative side and somewhat formulaic. You can pick up any issue, from any regiment, from the period 1890-1910, and you will find the following: an editorial, a list of battalion sports, a bit of regimental history, social engagements — and on the rare occasion (a Christmas special perhaps) the odd poem, joke, or cartoon.

There is a lot of those strands in this first issue of Red Feather: a brief history of the regiment is given, a page and a half (and a plate) is given over to the regimental football team who at the time of writing were ahead of the brigade league (with four wins and two draws), making them eligible to represent the Brigade in the Divisional Championship. There was the first entry in what was planned to be the Official Battalion Diary, which summarised the first four months of its existence; one item from this entry of interest is the following table showing the make-up of the battalion in terms of volunteers, regulars and ex-regulars:

But what marks this issue apart from the regimental journals that came before is that there is far more humour that you might expect, including an unofficial diary (I suspect from the pen of Keeling), cartoons, short stories, a 'Things we Want to Know' feature, and this example of a soldier's alphabet, illustrated by Corporal Arthur Humphries.

The first issue was printed by the firm H.T. Craddock printers, based in Godalming, and carried adverts for local businesses — such as Holden & Sons Boot and Shoe Warehouse — on the inside and back cover. The price was 3d, and the editorial committee was composed as follows:

Major C. Barnett (Editor)
Captain A.W. Steriker
2nd Lieutenant. R.M. Barrington Ward
2nd Lieutenant. E. G. Toye
Colour-Sergeant A. Marshall
Sergeant F. H. Keeling (Asst-Editor)
Corporal A. Humphries (Cartoonist)

Ypres

While the ramparts and Ypres have become inseparable from the Wipers Times' story, the 6th DCLI were actually there a year earlier, as the spoof adverts in Figure 6 contest. While the Kazematten Brewery, located at those ramparts, has made a beer honouring the Wipers Times, I would argue there is a good case for honouring the Red Feather as well (and who wouldn't want a red Belgian ale?).

Their time in the region is what initially caught my eye about the magazine, specifically the December 1915 issue, which opened with the following foreword:

Behind this grim apology for the delay between issue 5 and 6 is that, of the nine contributors from the battalion who contributed to the last issue, three of them had been killed, including Editor Major Barnett; three were back in England receiving care for their injuries; and two of them had been receiving care in France. The new Editor (Keeling) signed off with the following quote:

Perhaps we may presume to consider our magazine as now embedded among our most ancient traditions. In that case we owe it to the memory of those amongst the fallen who have been closely associated with us to keep the old red covers well in evidence in Battalion. Let no one hint again that the RED FEATHER has gone under. It is an old soldier now, and like the rest of us, will do its duty — for the duration.¹⁵

The event that took Major Barnett's life and caused the casualties — along with a further 40 casualties within the battalion — occurred on 12 August 1915. The men had been in reserve in Ypres, getting ready to move up to the front line. While many had been billeted in the large number of cellars in the city, C and D Company were instructed to billet in the cloisters of St Martin's Cathedral, which up until then had been unscathed by shellfire. At 6.15 am, an enemy bombardment of the city began firing bursts every 15 minutes, to range their guns onto the cathedral until they got a direct hit. Once they had their range, they continued to bombard the cathedral for another five hours. Major Barnett, who had been at Battalion HQ, set out immediately after the first strike, along with Lieutenant R.C. Blagrove, to try and rescue the men. On their arrival at the scene, both were killed instantly by shellfire. While the men of the regiment were warned to stay away from the area, many, including the army chaplains, went to the site with volunteers to try to rescue those trapped in the rubble — which led to further casualties. When the firing finally ceased, and with help from the 11th Battalion King's (Liverpool Regiment), some men were rescued from the rubble, but two officers were killed along with 18 other ranks, two officers were wounded, and 21 other ranks were injured. It is said that when they were rebuilding the cathedral in the aftermath of the war, several more bodies were uncovered.¹⁶

There would only be two further issues of the Red Feather. Issue 7 was published on 16 August 1916; two days later, Ben Keeling was killed at Deville Wood. Issue 8 was meant to appear in September of that year, featuring an obituary of Keeling, but it was blocked by the censor.

I plan to write a second part to this article, focusing on the later issues and the action at Deville Wood. There is, however, one gap that I am hoping someone out there might be able to help with. While the first seven issues of the Red Feather survive, and have even been digitised, the whereabouts of the censored Issue 8 is not known. More than one person, in passing, has mentioned that they're sure a copy exists, but are unsure where. If you know the whereabouts of this issue, please do not hesitate to contact us.