Ted & Geoff Hodge

This is the story of two brothers who left their Cornish farm for the Western Front during the First World War. By default, it is also the story of their family (and mine). This family:

The Hodge family, late 1890's. Ted sits on his father's knee and Geoff is sitting on his mother's lap.

The photo above shows William and Beatrice Hodge and their six children: Frances, Eleanor (Marjorie), William (Guy – my great grandfather), Beatrice, Edward Lanyon (Ted) and Geoffrey (Geoff). They lived at Trevigowe Farm in the small, rural village of Withiel in Cornwall. They were farmers, as were their ancestors before them, and a few hundred years of family graves in Withiel Churchyard suggests that the Hodge family rarely felt the need to migrate far beyond their parish (in fact, most of us still haven’t strayed very far!).

At the outbreak of the First World War in 1914, the youngest sons, Ted and Geoff, aged just 20 and 18 respectively, declared that as soon as the harvest was over they would leave the family farm and join up. As with the story of Frederick Rundle, I can’t help but wonder if the reason for their eagerness was the promise of adventure and excitement, far away from the quiet village lives they had always known.

The brothers kept their word, and after their invaluable help at harvest time they travelled to Plymouth to enlist. Their military records state that by mid-1915 both brothers were serving in France. Here is where we part from the family, and follow each brother in turn.

Ted's Story

Private Edward Lanyon Hodge, 9th Bn. Devonshire Regiment.

Ted enlisted with the 9th Battalion, Devonshire Regiment, and arrived at Le Havre, France on the 28th July 1915. Ted’s exact movements aren’t clear, but we do know that just two months after arriving he found himself at the Battle of Loos.

The official account of the 9th Devons on the first day of the Battle of Loos, 25th September 1915, states:

“On the right, the 20th Brigade had carried the German front trenches within half an hour of the attack starting. Its leading battalions were the 2nd Gordons (the old 92nd Highlanders) and the 8th Devons […] Despite the loss of most of their officers, these two units pressed on vigorously, capturing eight field guns and more prisoners; they were only checked when they reached the point where the Hulloch-Vermelles road crosses that from Lens to La Bassée. Here, well ahead of the troops on either flank, and reduced to a mere handful, they came to a standstill. In support of them came up the 6th Gordons, a Territorial battalion from Banff and Donside, and some of the 9th Devons and 2nd Borderers. The bulk of the 9th Devons and Borderers halted at the gun positions where they dug in, linking up the emplacements into a continuous trench, hereafter known as Gun Trench.”

On this day, perhaps at ‘Gun Trench’, we know that Ted was badly injured. Family stories suggest that after obtaining severe shrapnel wounds to his thigh, he was forced to crawl for over a mile to find help. Who knows what Ted must have gone through before he found himself back in the UK, and in a hospital bed at the Royal Victoria Military Hospital at Netley. The family story goes that the eldest brother, Guy, visited Ted at Netley, and was alarmed to find that Ted’s leg was swollen to almost the size of his body. When Guy asked why doctors didn’t just take the leg off, Ted’s bitter reply was that they wouldn’t amputate if they thought they had a chance of returning him to the front.

The Royal Victoria Hospital at Netley, Hampshire. Demolished in the 1960's, now only the Chapel remains. Image from netley-military-cemetery.co.uk

At some point after his treatment at Netley Hospital, Ted returned to the family farm at Withiel. Although he was now at home and away from the fighting, I can’t imagine it was much comfort to his parents - his injuries were so severe that two weeks after being medically discharged from the Army in July 1916, and 11 months after being wounded, Ted died of his wounds.

His death certificate states that the informant was ‘William Hodge, Father, Present at the death.’ For a parent, it’s unthinkable to contemplate seeing one of your children suffer and die. However, at least Ted was surrounded by the familiarity of home, and the comfort of his family.

Ted is buried in the cemetery near his home in Withiel. His parents were later buried beside him in an identical grave. The inscription on his headstone reads: ‘In Loving Memory of Edward Lanyon, beloved son of William and Beatrice Hodge. Died 10th August 1916 from the effect of wounds received at Loos, September 25th 1915, aged 22 years.’

The grave of Edward Lanyon Hodge at Withiel Cemetery. The first photograph was taken shortly after his burial. The second shows Ted's grave in 2019, with his parents grave beside his. Sadly Ted's headstone has sunk and is in need of repair.

Perhaps because Ted had died at home and almost a full year after being wounded, he was not recognised as a war casualty, and was not listed on any Commonwealth War Graves Commission Roll of Honour when I first began my family history research. With some help, I was able to rectify this in 2008, and since then a wreath is laid on his grave - now officially recognised as a war grave - during the Remembrance Day service each year.

Ted was awarded three British campaign medals: the 1914-15 Star, the British War Medal and the Allied Victory Medal, known as ‘Pip, Squeak and Wilfred’, as well as the Silver War Badge. They are held by the family along with his cap badge, his silver cigarette case and his photograph, plus the above photo of his grave, taken shortly after his burial.

Geoff's Story

Corporal Geoffrey Hodge, 9th Bn. King's Royal Rifle Corps.

Geoff was the youngest sibling of the six. After enlisting with Ted, Geoff went on to serve with the 9th Battalion Kings Royal Rifle Corps. Although it’s not clear exactly where Geoff saw action, we do know that between the dates Geoff served (May 1915 - March 1918), Geoff’s battalion saw action at: Hooge – the formation of the Hooge Crater and the first use of the Flammenwerfer (flamethrower), the second attack on Bellewaarde, the Battle of Delville Wood, the Battle of Flers-Courcellete, the German Retreat to the Hindenberg Line, the First and Third Battle of the Scarpe at Arras, the Battle of Langemark, the First and Second Battle of Passchendaele and the Battle of St Quentin.

It is perhaps not surprising that after seeing so much action, Geoff rose through the ranks, from inexperienced former farmer, to a Corporal in a few years. Although he may not have known it, the end of the war was on the horizon when Germany launched the Kaiserschlacht, their final Spring Offensive, on the 21st March 1918.

The Spring Offensive began with Operation Michael and with reportedly the heaviest artillery barrage of the entire war. The intense barrage of St Quentin started sometime around 4:30am and included five hours of shelling with not only artillery but mustard gas, tear gas and chlorine gas. Communication lines were cut and a dense fog on that day added to the chaos, giving cover to the Stormtroopers who followed the barrage, enabling them to break through British lines in several places. It was after the chaos had died down on this day that Geoff was reported missing. In fact, the losses were so heavy that during Operation Michael, two entire battalions of Geoff’s regiment, the King’s Royal Rifle Corps, disappeared completely, and the only survivors of these battalions were a handful of men discovered in German hospitals several months later.

It’s therefore sadly not surprising that with such heavy losses and confusion, Geoff’s family did not discover his fate until after the war was over. It’s apparent that they had tried to find out what had happened to him, as less than two weeks before Christmas in 1918, Geoff’s sister, Beatrice, received a letter at her Bodmin home from ‘The Enquiry Department for Wounded and Missing’. This letter informed her that a newly released prisoner of war, Lance Corporal H. Bayliss from Geoff’s battalion, had returned to France and reported that Geoff had been ‘killed at the time that he himself had been taken prisoner.’

The letter informing the family of Geoff's death, December 1918.

Scanned pages of L. Cpl Henry Bayliss’ Prisoner of War records are available online, and although they are written in German, I was able to decipher that he was captured ‘aus dem felde’ (in the field) at St Quentin. It would appear that Geoff had been killed on the 21st March 1918 – in the chaos of the first day of Operation Michael, at the age of 22. His body was never found.

A page of the German Prisoner of War records, showing Lance Corporal Henry Bayliss' entry. First World War POW records are available to search and view free of charge online, at the RCIC Archives here.

As painful as it must have been to hear this terrible news, and between the Armistice and Christmas too, at least Geoff's family did get to discover the fate of their son. Many family members were never able to find out what had happened to their loved one, and I can’t begin to imagine the heartache of an endless hope, or an inability to grieve.

Geoff is commemorated on the Pozières Memorial to the Missing at Ovillers-la-Boisselle in France. Until 2008, the name to honour his memory had been misspelt as ‘Hodges’, however the Commonwealth War Graves Commission kindly rectified this mistake at my request. The outline of the extra ‘S’ can still be seen. Geoff is also recorded on the Roll of Honour in Winchester Cathedral - Winchester being the home of his regiment. He was awarded the British War Medal and Allied Victory Medal, along with a Bronze Death Plaque, which are still in the possession of the family, along with his photograph, and an army issued bible (which he had left behind).

Corporal Geoffrey Hodge's name appears on a panel of Pozières Memorial to the Missing.

What of the other Hodge siblings?

Frances, the eldest, is a bit of a mystery – but I believe she, along with my great grandfather, Guy, were the only siblings who went on to marry.

The eldest brother and only surviving son, Guy, was unable to serve due to a condition he’d had since childhood. He was passionate about animals but due to the war, was forced to give up his studies at Plymouth to become a veterinary surgeon, instead having to take on the family farm. (Because of this, I was the first Hodge to go to university, and I graduated at Plymouth almost a hundred years after my great grandfather had been forced to give up his studies). This was not Guy’s only sacrifice - The family farm had to give up their much loved horses to the war effort, a sad event which I am told Guy never got over. Guy’s son (my grandfather) told me that one of the two brothers wrote home to say that by chance they’d actually seen the favourite of the farm horses while in France! I hope that it had been a happy reunion.

The family farm in Withiel was sold after the war and the loss of both Ted and Geoff. Guy moved away from Withiel and bought a small farm, Little Trevisquite, where the next three generations of the Hodge family were raised.

Their sister Marge lost her fiancé (possibly a Mr Jago of Bodmin) as well as two brothers in the war. She never married, and later became a schoolteacher in Bodmin.

Marge and the youngest sister, Beatrice, lived together in Morton Villa in Bodmin. Beatrice served as a VAD, nursing with the Red Cross during the war. She was stationed at the Royal Naval Auxiliary Hospital in Truro, 4th Southern General Hospital in Plymouth and 5th Southern General Hospital in Southsea, Portsmouth. While at Portsmouth she was able to visit Ted at Netley Hospital and reported his condition back to the family via postcard. I am hoping to find out more about her time with the Red Cross (but that’s a story for another day). According to family sources, after the war Beatrice reverted to her lifestyle as a gentleman’s daughter and annoyed her sisters by never lifting a finger again! The family has her British Red Cross Society Medal for Proficiency in Red Cross Nursing and her Red Cross cap badge.

Thank you for reading my family story. I have included much more detail than is strictly required to make an interesting story, but it’s my hope that someone might be able to fill in the gaps in my knowledge. If you’re reading this and think you have something to add, please get in touch, I’d love to hear from you.

If you enjoyed this, you might like to take a look at the story of Frederick George Rundle, here.