BX June 10, 1915
Sighted No Submarines – Mr. E.B. Crompton Has Received a Letter From His Son, Dr. Charles R.B. Crompton, with the Toronto Base Hospital, Telling of the Trip Across the Atlantic, in a Transport. Devoid of Personal Matters, the Letter Follows:
May 26, 1915
On board S.S Corinthian
We have had a wonderful trip across, but no escort at all until today at 12.50 p.m., when to our great relief, out of the slight fog that was hanging over the smooth sea, two destroyers came suddenly into sight. At first we did not know whether they were British or German vessels, as they were disguised so as to exactly imitate the German type. Then we saw the stern of one of them with the ensign flag flying, and believe me a mighty cheer went up from our boat; then they signaled for quite a long time, using some of our signallers as they did not want to use the wireless, as it might be picked up. After a while when the captain had received his orders, one of them dropped astern and disappeared, going to escort the Carpathian, another transport, not so very far behind us.
You can quite realize that the nervous strain has been considerable, especially since getting into dangerous waters. Many of the nurses for the last three or four days have been going all over the ship with their life belts on and usually rather fidgety and nervous.
In Charge of Hospital
Right from the day we started we were on the look-out for our escort and it is now 11 days since we left. It may seem a long time, and it did, to look forward to, but I have been very busy as I was given charge of the hospital on board. We have had quite an epidemic of sore throats and sea sickness, of course has been in evidence.
We have on board with us the divisional ammunition column and the cycle corps (one division from Toronto, and one from Montreal)
We expect if all goes well and we do not strike a fog to land tomorrow at about 10 or 12 o’clock when I shall cable you as promptly as possible.
The quarters for the men have not been any too rosy, and the food fair – however, there is not much complaining. The doctors have had meals and berths the same as the officers of the contingent, so we have nothing to complain of.
We have two sick parades a day, one at 8.30 a.m. and one at 5 p.m. and we have had quite a bit to do with 1300 men on board. The colonel says we shall likely have a few days’ time off after we arrive, so I am going to take the first opportunity to go and see our own friends in London.
Escorted By Linnet
The destroyer that met us is from Davenport, close to Plymouth, so I expect we are going to land at Plymouth. She was called the “Linnet” and is one of the most modern types; able to make 34 knots an hour, has four torpedo tubes and three four inch guns, one aft one at the bow and one abeam. She is set very low in the water, and I can assure you she was a fine sight for sore eyes, like ours were – sore from looking at them.
We left Montreal about 4 p.m. on Sunday the 16th and came out south of Newfoundland. Any time we saw any sort of a ship in the offing we changed our course. At the moment we are about 180 miles off Land’s End, and be sure we cannot get there too soon to suit me, as I am quite anxious to get my feet on dry land again (leaving the briny deep) on board a tram car, or motor bus, or some form of terra firma locomotion.
Life on the Briny Deep
I do not know, of course, for certain, but we expect to be under canvas for a short time, but just keep the address I left you, and use it until otherwise instructed.
During the voyage we had physical drill twice a day, two sick parades, three meals, and any amount of time for sleeping and reading in the interspace.
I have felt fine all the way over, but we have had some sick men with us, and it almost made you sorry to see them render tribute to Neptune, the way some of them did. The bugle has gone for parade, so I shall have to go for the moment, but will add a few lines at the last minute.
PLYMOUTH, May 27 – 7.40 a.m. The sight coming into harbor has been extremely delightful. My chum and I have been up all night. We passed torpedo boats, torpedo destroyers armed trawlers and little fishing smacks. We came in sight of land at 4.30 this morning, and I can assure you they had about 20 look-outs on the destroyer and on this transport; besides the military and not a periscope or submarines did we see. At 11.30 last night we were going 13 miles an hour, and the Linnet hard by, first alongside and then astern. When two blasts sounded from our whistle (as a signal of some alarm), she just raced like a greyhound, shot past us, back and forth like a spectre ship, and then gradually came back alongside. It felt queer to see our comparatively large ship, and that little greyhound and to think of the comfort she provided us with, on the most dangerous and perilous part of our journey. When she left us this morning at Plymouth bar, three mighty cheers went up from our boat, and be sure, we all meant it.
I am not going on shore until high tide, which will be about 9 o’clock. Thankful that we have been protected from danger during all the journey.
About two days ago our captain had a wireless to the effect that the submarines had been very active off the south coast of Ireland, evidently we have avoided them, and as it is now 8 o’clock and the breakfast gong has sounded, and us we disembark at 9 a.m. with kindest regards, I will close.
Charles. R.B. Crompton
BX December 6, 1915
Hospital is Within The Sound of the Guns – Capt. Crompton Tells of Life With Hospital Corps at Saloniki, Greece
Mr. and Mrs. E.B. Crompton have received a letter from Capt. (Dr.) Charles Crompton, dated Saloniki, Greece, in his letter he says:
November 15, 1915
We are having bright, sunny days and cold nights. The climate is dry so far. We have a good view of the sea and are surrounded by snowcapped mountains. The scenery is simply wonderful, and the sunsets gorgeous. We have a beautiful site for camp; high ground with a gentle slope, and good sanitary conditions. All water is boiled. We have been working night and day, officers as well as men, handling baggage and putting up buildings for stores, officers, nursing sisters and patients. We have only been here a couple of days, but have made great progress; everybody working with whole hearted enthusiasm. We have already room for 90 patients, and it keeps us busy. We have plenty of company in the shape of thousands of pretty little green lizards, which are quite harmless, but I see some fun when the nurses come, which will be soon. We are about six miles from town, and have troops, pack trains, artillery, transports and despatch-riders passing up, and aeroplanes above. We are not far from the front, as we heard the guns last night. I expect we shall soon be very busy, but at present there are only about 5 percent wounded and 95 percent sick.