Aden and the Delhi Durbar 1911

When Walter joined the 2nd Lincolnshires in March 1908, he was stationed in Aldershot until February, 1911.

We sailed from Southampton in a troopship called the Plassy, and it took two weeks by sea. Aden! What a place, the last place God ever made, a barren lot of hilly rocks and sand, no grass to be seen. (It is now know as the Yemen since the British handed over the protectorate to the Yemini Arab Republic.) We passed our time hill-climbing, fishing, beach-combing, as we had the sea quite close to us. It was a very hot place, and very cold at night. We spent a part of our tour of duty in Crater, so named as the barracks and the cantonment[?] was situated in a huge bowl, caused by the surrounding hills, and naturally radiated the heat out from the rocks. We would then be relieved by a detachment and then we would go to Steamer Point.

During 1911, our King George V and Queen Mary came out from England to visit India to attend the Delhi Durbar. They arrived in Steamer Point in a P.O. liner called the Medina, which was all painted white for the occasion. A naval cutter left the harbour to bring the Royal pair ashore. We found a guard of “honour” on the landing stage. Our regiment, the 1st Lincolnshire Regt, lined the dusty streets. We all wore white duck suites and white helmets. The King spent a few hours at the residency before proceeding on his way to India. Each member of the regiment was granted two weeks extra pay as a compliment – equal to £1, quite a lot of money those days.

We stayed in Aden until 1912 November, when we were relieved and we returned to our old barracks in Portsmouth. The usual military training took place during 1913, and then again in 1914.

And we know what happened in 1914 . . .

Does anyone know a good resource for the 1911 Delhi Durbar? I'm having a hard time finding reliable sources. I'd love to find something specific to the stop in Aden, but nothing's surfaced so far. I know a film was made of the King and Queen's trip (quite a famous film, where film history is concerned, I think), but I haven't seen many stills. If someone could point me to a solid reference on the Durbar, it would be much appreciated.

The golden year

I realize that the last few posts have been sad ones, centering on the loss of young Walter and Cyril and Walter's bout with typhoid fever. Thoughout these hardships and separations, May and Walter were unshakeable. Fast forward 45 years:

1965 came along . . . This was our “Golden Wedding” year, and May made the special preparations for the occasion. She was very good at making cakes. She made a three tier cake and iced it with sentimental greetings on it. There was quite a gathering in 23 Clifford Avenue that night, but there were no undue noisy behaviors, as I didn’t want my neighbours disturbed, as the walls were not properly insulated. We were both seventy five years of age, as I was two weeks the senior.

Isn't that so like Walter? Making sure not to disturb the neighbors during the party? He and May made a formidable team.

The family reunited

A section of Cyril's Baptism Certificate

from the Archdeaconry of Bombay, January 1923

Walter recovered from his bout with typhoid fever at the Convalescent Camp in the Nilgiri Hills near Bangalore. May arrived with Douglas, the son he'd never seen, while he was recuperating. Walter and May hadn't seen each other since the death of young Walter, and now Walter faced the somewhat daunting task of getting to know Doug. This from Walter's letters:

I stayed there [Nilgiri Hills] until February 1922 and during my stay there, May had arrived in Poona with Douglas who was then 2 years of age. Married quarters were found for her, and she had the assistance of a Cook Ayah. She is a native woman who are really devoted to the wives of the soldiers. She used to look after young Douglas, and take him out in his pushchair. I returned to the regiment in February, shortly after May’s arrival, and young Doug didn’t like me talking and making a fuss of his mother, as he have never seen me before. He was born on the 12 January 1920, and I was in Secunderabad at that time.

Things settled to a normal routine for the Wildgooses. And another baby was on the way.

The year passed by, and I was getting much stronger, as I was in a weak state after such a long stay in Hospital and the Convalescent Camp. It was 1922 now, and in December 1922, May had to go to hospital to give birth to Cyril Maurice on the 22nd December, but unfortunately he was born with a “double hare-lip” and a cleft palate. So May’s troubles began all over, and in March 1923, I had to conduct her back to England with Cyril for him to receive hospital treatment. I stayed in England until September, when I had to return to India to rejoin my unit. The regiment had moved to Dinapore during my absence. It was a flat country, a rice growing province, and very damp. This was now October 1923, and I resumed my duties as usual.

I received notice that May would be arriving in Bombay in 1924 as the child was found fit to travel to India with May. I went to Bombay to bring her to Dinapore. It was a long train journey and the little chap developed diarrohea, and on arrival in Dinapore he was immediately placed in the hospital. It was not long afterwards that poor little Cyril passed away and he had to be buried the same day as he dies, as that was the custom in India.

Poor May, she has had some hardships! We left Dinapore to go to Lucknow in November 1924, and we had to get settled down once more in new surroundings. Everyone had the same experience. A soldier’s life!

From my research, I understand that the death of children and spouses who traveled to India from England was nothing out of the ordinary. One journal noted that there were always stacks of small coffins at the termination points of the rail lines leading to British military camps - ready to accommodate the children who'd died on the long, hot train trip across the country.

Death of young Walter

While Walter was stationed in India, his namesake and first-born Walter Aubrey died of meningitis in the summer of 1920. He was 3 1/2 years old. May, who had delivered her second son Douglas in January 1920, was left to cope with the loss by herself.

Walter (big Walter) doesn't say much about his first son's death in his letters to me. I think the photograph at left speaks volumes - young mother at the grave of her son, holding her other child. May must've been a sturdy soul, but this was nothing out of the ordinary for the age. More loss was to come.

Typhoid fever, then to the hills

With the disbanding of the Machine Gun Corps, Walter re-joined his original unit, 2nd Lincolnshires in Poona. But nothing ever seemed to run a smooth course for him, and in September he was struck with typhoid fever:

I was getting settled down nicely, when, in September, I [was] taken ill with Typhoid Fever. I was rushed to the hospital where I languished in bed with nothing to eat for days, as I was unable to eat owing to the state of my stomach. I used to have plenty of drinks and custards, egg flips, Bovril, etc. I used to have a blanket bath each morning, with a rubbing of talcum powder and methylated spirits, which was very refreshing. I was too weak to write to May, as I knew she would be anxious about me. She was advised to apply to rejoin me in Poona.

I began to feel better, and more cheerful in myself. The male nurse used to come and attend to my wants and I asked him for a piece of bread, as I felt so hungry. I touched a soft spot in him, and he told me to be careful in chewing it before swallowing it. I enjoyed it very much. The Matron came around on her daily visit. She stopped at my bed, and asked how I was getting on? I told her. I felt much better! Then she asked me if I had had anything to eat? I casually said no, but she said, what are these breadcrumbs doing on your sheet?” I felt so guilty, and it was no good for me to make excuses. “Now Sergeant Wildgoose! You have been very ill, and you had a very corroded lining to your stomach. A new lining has now taken its place, and if you are going to aggravate it by eating solid food, all our good work will have been in vain. So please bear that in mind.” I believe the male nurse got a wigging afterwards.

I was put on light foods with a sherry occasionally and I was able to get up and sit in a chair on the verandah. It was a change to lying in bed. The months were slipping by, and it is now November, and I had been here two months. The doctor came around next morning and gave me a thorough examination and he was quite pleased, as he told me he was sending me to the Convalescent Camp in Wellington in the Nilgiri Hills near Bangalore. My friend Sgt. Allen undertook to look after my little terrier dog called Gyp. I arrived in Wellington, among the eucalyptus trees in the hills. It was very cool just like English spring.

Let's see. Walter's medical adventures to date include diphtheria, leg injury at Le Cateau, toe injury/amputation at 2nd Ypres/Clopton War Hospital, quinsy, and now typhoid fever. Of course, we already know the result of all of this - he lives to the ripe old age of 91!

So long, Emma Gees

Machine Gun Corps Memorial, Hyde Park Corner

Francis Derwent Moore, 1919

In February 1921, Walter and the 8th Bn. Machine Gun Corps left Mesopotamia and returned to India. But that wasn't the only change he faced:

After we were settled in Deolali, our commanding officer informed us all that as the Machine Gun Corps was only a temporary war time organization, it was being disbanded, and we were given three alternatives as to what we could decide for ourselves.
(1) Be discharged from the service. That didn’t suit me, a s I had 13 years service, and I wasn’t to lose that.
(2) Be transferred to the Armoured Cars Units. That, too, didn’t appeal to me.
(3) or be transferred to an infantry unit serving in India.
This was my choice, and I applied to re-join my original unit, the 2nd Battalion Lincolnshire, who were then serving in Poona.

Arrangements were made for my transfer, and I was duly posted to my regiment. And I arrived in Poona March 1921. The commanding officer and the other officers knew me from my previous service with the regiment. I was posted to the Signalling Platoon. I took great interest in this work, and I was told I would be sent to the Signalling school to qualify for an Instructors Certificate.

Walter stayed in India with 2nd Bn. Lincolnshires until late 1929 and his return back to England.

Basra then and now

After the Khyber Pass and Kacha Ghari, Walter's battalion (MGC 204) was absorbed into the 8th MGC, and they were sent to Basra in Mesopotamia (modern day Iraq). Basra is still in the news. Does anything change? What lessons were learned in 1920? 2005?

We left Kacha Ghari camp during February 1920, and we entrained for Trimulgherry in India. We had a fine old time getting our mules aboard, as they were very unpredictable. We had a few days train journey before reaching our destination. We were then absorbed into the 8th Battalion M.G.C. so the 204th Bn. lost its identity. We found life rather easier than we had been having since arriving in India last October.

The quiet atmosphere was not to last long, as in June 1920, the Arabs began to rebel in Mesopotamia. It was so serious, that an expeditionary force was sent from India to quell the disturbances. I was in “C” Company, and we were one company who had to go to Basra, together with D Company. This was an operation to deny the Arabs the water of the Nile [I think Walter means Tigris/Euphrates or the Canal to the Persian Gulf here instead of the Nile] which passed through their village. They had been wrecking the trains and pulling down the telegraph wires and also looting the trains. This operation lasted from June 1920 to March 1921, and we prepared to leave for Basra to return to India, but before doing so, we had to disinter our fallen comrades, and put their remains in coffins provided for the purpose. That was a disagreeable task. (We had an extra ration of rum that night.)

When the remains of these soldiers had been exhumed, they were placed in coffins with their particulars placed inside, together with the cross that had been erected over their graves. They were placed in the train which took them to the Military Hospital in Basra for re-burial in the Military Cemetery. That operation was a very unpleasant one that I have taken part in. It was now February 1921, and all our mules and equipment was got ready for embarkation to India. We returned to Bombay, and then on to Deolali, the “transit camp” for soldiers coming out to India, and those returning to England.

Walter and I never talked about Iraq because it wasn't really an issue in the late 1970's and early 80's. Iran and Afghanistan were the big news then. I'd love to hear his perspective on the current war with Iraq.

Afghanistan 1919

Like Forrest Gump, Walter Wildgoose seems to be a part of many of the major events of the early 20th century. The reason for this is due (mainly) to his life in the British army, which spread itself all over the world and had a hand in many of the formative events of the time.

Today's world hot-spots parallel those post-World War I, so Walter was present in Afghanistan, India (and areas that are now a part of Pakistan), and Iraq (Mesopotamia). His battalions of the Machine Gun Corps embarked to Bombay aboard the SS Mekara, then headed for the Northwest Frontier and the Khyber Pass. His account:

When we arrived in Bombay, the first impressions were very interesting. It was the smells that intrigued me. Bullock carts rumbling along as if they had all day to get there. Indians in their loincloths, and the hawkers selling many varieties of fruit (and plenty of flies too). We arrived in Deolali, the reception Centre for all troops leaving India or entering. Our battalion was posted to Mhow, so we had another train journey of thirty-six hours. The climate was very mild and just like English climate. We soon got climatized to the country, but all of it was very strange to the newcomer. At night, the shrieks of the monkeys, and the weird cry of the jackals, was blood curling, but we soon got used to it. Mosquitoes was a source of irritation at night and we were advised to use mosquito nets.

After a few weeks in Mhow, we left to go to the North West Frontier. We were sent to Rawal Pindi, and the other battalions went to Quetta, Lahore, Peshawar. The Afghan troubles were taking place in the Kyber Pass at the time. We stayed in Rawal Pindi for a few months, then we were posted to the Jamrud Fort area, including the Kacha Ghari area, which was a perimeter camp. There was an Indian regiment quartered in this perimeter camp besides our battalion. It was like a concentration camp, surrounded by barbed wire with blockhouses situated all around it, so as to afford security.

The camel convoys come to pass through on their way to Peshawar, 12 miles away, but they are denied admittance after sundown. It was situated in the Afridi country, as warlike tribe, who tended their flocks of goats and sheep by day, and went marauding by night, mainly to steal rifles. We always kept ours locked up with a chain passing through the trigger guards. There was a “camel cemetery” just outside the camp. When the camels die, they are dragged along the ground by two other camels, to this cemetery, and just left lying there. Soon, the vultures begin operations, and what they do not eat, the jackals come at night to have their supper. I might say there is a very unpleasant smell pervades the air for miles around!!

Our commanding officer used to have all the mules on parade, and we had to ride them bareback. What a penance the was! We could hardly walk when we returned to camp, and we were sore for days. One of his little whims I suppose. We spent 1919 Christmas in this God forsaken place under canvas but we got hardened to this way of soldiering.

Camel cemeteries, bareback mule-riding, barbed wire - things were never dull for Walter and the MGC troops stationed in the pass.

Walter shared his story with me in early 1980, in the midst of the Afghan conflicts with the Soviets, and he often remarked about the underlying problems. I got the feeling that he was sitting back, patting his foot and saying "Go ahead, USSR, see what you can do with it!"

I suspect that Walter would not be surprised in the least that the region is still in turmoil. This week's elections in Afghanistan point up the many problems that still permeate the country.

To India after the Great War

After Walter's foot injury afforded him a trip back to England for surgery and recovery in April 1915, he shifted from 1st Lincolnshires to the newly-formed Machine Gun Corps as an instructor. He never went back to the Front but did move in and out of several of the MGC camps during the remainder of the war: from Belton Camp, Grantham to Camp Mansfield, Clipstone (1917) to Rugeley Camp, Staffordshire in (1918).

Wife May stayed in Richmond and continued in service until the birth of their first child, Walter Aubrey 31 December 1916.

After the Armistice, Walter had some decisions to make about the army and his future:

In 1919, I had eleven years service, so I re-enlisted for a further four years, on payment of a bounty of £50, made payable at £16 each year. I was granted three months leave, and May had by this time obtained a flat in Mortlake, so I spent my leave there, as her brother Charles was now demobilised and was setting up as a window cleaner. During my three months, I assisted him canvassing for customers, and he had enough custom to get on with for a while. And he used to give me a token payment each week. (He was a mean old thing.)But he was May’s brother and my brother-in-law. Talk about being careful!

In the middle of May 1919, I contracted quinsy, a very bad throat trouble, so I was not able to do any more work. I went into the Grove Road Hospital Richmond, but I was soon better after two weeks. I had to report to my unit in Grantham in June and the doctor allowed me to travel and he gave me a certificate to produce as to my weak state of health. I was excused duty for several weeks until I regained my strength. The air was very bracing in Grantham.

It wasn't long before Walter learned he would be returning to the country he'd left as a small child.

I was eventually sent to the training centre and I was posted to 204 Battalion Machine Gun Corps. We were kitted out for service in India, and there were the 202, 203, 204, and 205 Battalions, all cadre Battalions, which means skeleton Battalions. In September, we left Grantham for Southampton to embark on the SS Merkara, a P.O. Liner bound for Bombay. The journey took three weeks.

Walter left May and young Walter behind in Richmond, as May was pregnant with their second son Douglas (born 1920). The separation took a toll on the young family. Walter would never see his namesake and firstborn again. Young Walter died of meningitis in 1920 at age 3. And Walter wouldn't meet Doug until the child was two years old.

The Lincolnshire's new recruit

Walter made the decision to join the Royal Lincolnshires after returning to England from his cabin-boy duties aboard the Oropesa. He decided to visit his mother and step-father in Aldershot and was pleasantly surprised to see brother Bert visiting as well. Here's the story:

We returned the same route, back to Liverpool, and the voyage lasted three months. I completed four trips, and then I decided I would like to come home and see my mother, who had married again in 1906 to a Staff sergeant in the Detention barracks in Aldershot. My dear old grandmother was still living there after all these years . . .

When we got there, it was lonely and dark, but luckily, there was another cab, waiting for late arrivals I suppose. He took me to No. 18 Warders Quarters and shone his lamp on the numbers, and when I knocked Bert was there, “what a surprise!” He had left his training ship and joined the Black Watch, the Royal Highlanders. He was stationed in the Curragh Camp in Ireland. Mother was there, it was now 2am in the morning and my stepfather had gone to Euston to meet me but he failed to do so. He arrived back home later. I slept with Bert that night and chatted for some time before falling to sleep.

In the morning, Mum asked Bert to take me to see Grandma, so he had to get himself all ready in his uniform and white spats. He was a bandsman and he looked quite, quite smart in his uniform. As we walked along to Aldershot we looked such an ill-assorted pair – he in his uniform and I just dressed in a reefer jacket and a pill box cap with the letters P.S.N.C. on it – Pacific Steam Navigation Company. Bert and I found Grandma quite well. It was twelve years since we saw her last as children before we were taken to the Foster Homes in Sheffield.

Walter always had great respect for big brother Bert. It's no wonder that Bert influenced his next big decision:

We returned home and settled down to discuss matters of interest. Bert told me not to go back to sea again, and he wanted me to join the army. (I was only five feet high with a head of black hair, and a lovely ruddy complexion.) I gave this suggestion serious thought, one has to make decision, and not to hesitate, as Fate always steps in whatever one decides to do. Bert took me to the Orderly Room of the Lincolnshire Regiment for the purpose of enlisting. The Regimental Sergeant-Major – a big burly man, asked me “how old I was.” I told him I was eighteen two weeks ago, on the 10th February. He advised me to come back tomorrow and bring my birth certificate with me. This I did, and Bert came with me to give me moral support. I filled in an attestation paper and signed it. I was taken before the Colonel G.A. Iratt, a hawk-faced gentleman, and a South African veteran. He asked me several questions, what previous occupation I performed and I produced my seaman’s discharge book. I was accepted and I was “sworn in” to serve seven years with the Colours and five years in the Army Reserve.

I was posted to “H” Company - Capt Rose, being my Company Commander, and Colour Sergeant Wade was in charge of discipline and pay accounts. I had a corporal to look after me regarding the duties and the daily routine. It was quite a new adventure, and it didn’t take me long to get accustomed to what was expected of me. I enlisted on the 3rd March 1908. I was issued with my army kit and the corporal shewn me how to arrange on the shelves and in the large kit base at the front of the bed. We had our meals in the barrack room, which was brought from the cookhouse by men detailed for that purpose. Drills and Physical training was my daily routine, and those heavy army boots began to make my feet tired after the day was at an end. Bert came to see how I was faring, as he encouraged me, and he promised to write to me when he returned to Ireland. He went back to the Curragh Camp, and he and I kept up communication.

This was the beginning of 22 years of service with the Royal Lincolnshires (1908-1915, 1921-1930) and the Machine Gun Corps (1915-1921) for Walter. I've always admired his decision-making philosopy: "one has to make a decision, and not to hesitate, as Fate always steps in. . . " He always seemed to have a good attitude about whatever befell him - not always happy and not always trusting, but knowing that it was up to him to react to the circumstances and move forward. And that attitude led him to some amazing adventures.

A Sunday morning Walter

Walter as Verger at the Royal Chapel, Royal Hospital Chelsea

One of Walter's volunteer duties at the Royal Hospital was as verger at the Royal Chapel on Sundays and for special occasions. I was fortunate enough to attend the Harvest Festival service one year and witnessed his solemn, dignified bearing as he carried out his duties.

The Workhouse and Firvale Infirmary

I spent three days in Sheffield during my visit to England in May in order to track down information on the old workhouse, infirmary, and Sheffield Children's Homes. It was only through online investigation that I discovered that the Firvale Infirmary, where John Wildgoose went for treatment and care after he was invalided out of the army, was a part of the huge Sheffield Workhouse. Here's a link to a very good website that gives a good glimpse into the workings of the place.

I can only surmise why John was forced to go into a workhouse infirmary instead of some other type of care that could've allowed the family to stay together. I do know that John's family (mother, siblings, etc.) lived in Sheffield and that's why Firvale was chosen. Walter's letters mention that his father was paralyzed from the sunstroke but don't go into detail about treatment/prognosis at the infirmary. (He was just a young boy, after all, and probably had no idea what his father was going through.) According to Walter, the boys did visit their father on Sundays:

We used to go to father each Sunday now, as he asked for this favour, as he wanted to have little talks with us, as he must have got lonely in the Infirmary. He asked us how had we got on at school, also at Sunday school. We went to Sunday school each Sunday afternoon and the teacher used to give us a text card, and these, we showed them to Father. He always gave Bert and I a penny, and we treated it with much respect, as we took it to school the following morning to be put in our Penny Savings Book.

Walter never mentions any of his father's relatives - no talk about cousins, aunts, or grans - so I don't know if they had much contact. He also doesn't talk about the "workhouse" aspect of the infirmary or the Sheffield Children's Homes. (Walter, Harry, and Bert were situated in Ivy Cottage on the grounds of the workhouse.)

A more comprehensive website about English Poor Laws and the workhouse can be found here.

The Central Studies Department of the Sheffield Library has wonderful resources and a very helpful staff.

Service with the Colours

From Walter's service record book

Discharge record (I notice his leg wound from Le Cateau is noted but not his missing toe from 2nd Ypres.)

Aldershot Tattoo

Can anyone provide information about the Aldershot Tattoo? I know it was a military re-enactment event that started in the 1890's, but not sure when it ended. Here's a picture of Walter in period uniform at an Aldershot Tattoo, though I don't know the year. It must've been between 1908-1910 (2nd Bn. Lincolnshire), or 1919 (Machine Gun Corps). Any clues based on the picture?

Mons to Hill 60?

Here's the next installment of Walter's account after Mons (and the ebony rosary) through Christmas and winter 1915:

So the retirement from Mons took place on the 23rd August and continued until about the 7th September, when the British Expeditionary Force was able to reorganise and advance, as the Germans hesitated near the French Frontier, and they withdrew. We became mobile and carried skirmishes with the enemy during our advance. Night marches and we rested by day to avoid the reconnaissance planes that were in the vicinity. On the 31st October we were halted on our advance, and we divided into some cultivated fields and were deployed for “dawn attack” on the Germans at Messines. The London Scottish were also in their positions, and in the early morning, the attack took place. The Germans, who had the advantage of being on higher ground, soon got into action. We lost many men here, and we then regrouped, and continued on our forward march towards Ypres. There, the advance forward came to a halt, and everywhere became stalemate, and “trench warfare” became the order of the day.

We took up our positions up in Sanctuary Wood. This wood had been blown clean out, only the trunks of trees remained. We were relieved at intervals to go into billets. And at Christmas 1914, we were in a village called Kemmel, where we were found accommodation in the farmhouses and outhouses of the villagers. It was on this day that Queen Mary’s gift boxes were issued to us containing pipe and tobacco. I didn’t smoke, so I kept mine in my kit. This was a new sector we were now occupying, and the weeks went by until the Battle of Hill 60 in April 1915 took place. This is where the Germans used poison gas for the first time, and that caused gas helmets to be issued. We always carried that day and night.


I'm having some difficulty creating a timeline for Sanctuary Wood through the Battle of Hill 60 (does he mean Battle of Hill 62??) - just haven't found many resources to flesh out this time period. Did Walter remember the details correctly here? (Wish I had the History of the Lincolnshire Regiment 1914-1915 at hand!)

Walter's honor guard duties

In addition to celebrating Edward's coronation in 1902, Walter participated in two other events for the King. The first was in 1905, when Walter was on the training ship Clio. According to his letters:

During 1905, King Edward VII visited Bangor to open Bangor University and the boys from the Clio formed a Guard of Honour, and it was a proud moment for me, as I saw the King pass along together with our Captain, Captain Langdon, asking him about the boys and where did they come from. It was quite a pleasant interlude to the daily duties on board ship.

Walter's Lincolnshire regiment also served as a part of the honor guard at Edward's funeral:

The year 1909 saw the passing of our King Edward VII. Our regiment left Aldershot for London to take part in lining the streets for the funeral. We were responsible for the Pall Mall. We were in our review order scarlet tunics, helmets with all the brass facings. Other regiments also were arranged around the line of route. This ceremony was a stirring experience for me, as it is the first time I have attended a ceremonial parade, of course. I had only one year’s service. When the cortege came along in the distance, we heard the Dead March being played by the Guards’ band, and then the hearse bearing the body of our late King arrived, and behind it rode the Duke of Connaught, King George V, and Kaiser Wilhelm of Germany. (see photo above) (He looked an austere individual.) The crowds of spectators behind the troops were carried away with emotion. The King’s favourite dog Caesar was led along by the drummer of the Guards.

For whatever reason - his military career or other circumstances of his life - Walter had an incredible collection of events he witnessed first-hand, sort of like a Forrest Gump or Zelig character.