Will Bird - Ghosts Have Warm Hands.

[everclay]

I've been taking a look over book reviews and i haven't seen this book mentioned anywhere. I really enjoyed it a great deal and wanted to recommend it to those of you interested in personal accounts of men fighting with the Canadian Corps. One part about this book that stood out for me is Will Bird writing about experiences in which he believes his life was saved by his brother KIA in 1915(Will didn't reach the front till after his brother had passed).

Below i've attached an excerpt of the book i found on a website that describes one of his experieces that sent chills up my back.

Ghosts Have Warm Hands is an account of Will Bird's experiences fighting with the 42nd Battalion of the Black Watch of Canada in the trenches of World War I. His younger brother, Steve, had been killed in France in 1915. Before leaving for France, Steve had promised Will, "If I don't come back, I'll try to find some way to keep an eye on you". He kept his promise. Steve appeared to Will several times during the war, saving his life on more than one occasion.

An excerpt from Ghosts Have Warm Hands:

We left the Ridge and went to Vimy village, relieving C.M.R.s (Canadian Mounted Rifles) there, and doing working parties, digging trenches, putting up wire near the front line. During the first night I was sent out with two men as a covering party for the men working with the barbed wire. It was cold and miserable. We were made to inspect the area through binoculars so we would recognize the various landmarks and not put the wire in a wrong place. We were out soon after it was dark but did not take nearly enough wire the first time and had to return for more. So it was midnight before we were finished. Luckily the Hun did not hear anything, but it was very chilling to stayed crouched in position for hours, and the night seemed endless. All I could think of was the fact that I had no place to go when we were through. Getting our party ready had taken so long that I had no chance to prepare any sort of shelter.

As we went back and drew near the railway embankment someone called in a low voice. I went over and found two of the men from the 73rd had dug a neat bivvy into the embankment. They were very decent chaps and insisted they had made the place wide enough to accommodate the three of us. We snuggled in, and with a ground sheet pegged to hold over our heads we were really comfortable. In seconds I was dead to the world.

The ground sheet pegged over our heads was pulled free and fell on my face, rousing me. Then a firm warm hand seized one of mine and pulled me up to a sitting position. It was very early, as first sunshine was glittering on the dew-wet grass. I was annoyed that I should have to do some chore after being out so late. I tried to pull free. But the grip held, and as I came to a sitting-up position my other hand was seized and I had a look at my visitor.

In an instant I was out of the bivvy, so surprised I could not speak. I was face to face with my brother, Steve, who had been killed in 1915! The first notice from the War Office had said: "Missing, believed dead." After a time one of his mates wrote to say a boot had been found with his name on it. The Germans had mined the Canadian trench and blown it up.

Steve grinned as he released my hands, then put his warm hand over my mouth as I started to shout my happiness. He pointed to the sleepers in the bivvy and to my rifle and equipment. "Get your gear", he said softly.

As I grabbed it he turned and started walking away rapidly. It was hard to keep up with him. We passed make-shift shelters filled with sleeping men of my platoon. No one was awake. Now and then a gun fired off toward the Somme or a machine-gun chattered, but on the whole it was a quiet morning. As soon as we got past the shelters I hurried to get close to Steve. "Why didn't you write Mother?" I asked.

He turned and the grin was still on his face. "Wait", he said. "Don't talk yet."

Then I noticed he had a soft cap on and no gas mask or equipment. Somehow he had learned where the 42nd was, and our "D" Company, but how in the world did he know where I was sleeping?

We left the company area and headed directly into a collection of ruins that had been Petit Vimy. "There's no one around here," I said. "How did you know where to find me?"

At that moment my equipment, slung hurriedly over one should, slipped off and fell to the ground before I could catch it. As I stopped and retrieved it Steve went into a passageway in the ruins and I ran to catch him. Arrived there, I saw one way went right and the other left. Which way had he gone? "Steve"! I called. There was no answer, so I dropped my rifle and gear and ran to the right. It only took minutes - two or three - to get to the far side, but there was no sign of my brother. I ran back and called again, took the way to the left, searched and searched again, called repeatedly, but could not find him. Finally I sat down on my equipment and leaned back against a bit of wall. I was tired and sweating and excited. A great desire to find our officer and get the day off took hold of me, but I realized I did not know where the officer or sergeant-major were, and if I left the immediate area and Steve returned he would not know where I had gone. Probably he had no pass and did not want to be seen. If only I had not bothered with my equipment I could have kept up with him!

Minutes went by. I got up and made another search of the ruins. The sun began to glisten on the tops of the broken walls. I settled back more comfortably on my equipment and heard the usual morning stir of guns firing registering shots. The sun got warmer. I dozed.

Suddenly I was shaken awake. Tommy had me by the arm and was yelling. "He's here! Bill's here!"

I stumbled up, dazed, looked at my watch. It was nine o'clock.

"What's made you come here?" Tommy was asking. "What happened?"

"What's all the row about?" I countered.

"You should know. They're digging around that bivvy you were in. All they've found is Jim's helmet and one of Bob's legs."

"Legs!" I echoed stupidly. "What do you mean?"

"Don't you know that a big shell landed in the bivvy? They've been trying to find something of you."

It seemed utterly incredible. I put on my gear and followed Tommy. There was a great cavity in the embankment and debris was scattered over the whole area. Mickey came running to shake hands with me.

(Ghosts Have Warm Hands pp. 28-30)

Excerpts Books by Will R. Bird Biography_uacct = "UA-2001239-1";urchinTracker();

[sueburden]

What an amazing story., thanks for posting it. I will have to get that book.

Sue

[DDP1955]

Amazing ...

[BIFFO]

Also read ten years on same author just as good

biff

[paul guthrie]

Both of his books are terrific!

[ianw]

I suppose ghosts work in their own mysterious family way but he could have woken them all up!

[ypres1418]

I have had this book for years and still not finished it, thanks for bringing it back to my attention, I will now go and get it off the shelf dust it off and take it to work with me tonight!

Mandy