Kinmel Revisited

Author(s): Robert James Bridge

Location(s): North Wales

Genre(s): Historical, Fiction

Era(s): 1919

The cover is of St Margaret’s Church Bodelwyddan, North Wales. This is the home of five Canadian Soldiers graves, plus many more who fought bravely in each and every war!

Today one could perhaps be forgiven for not noticing the small village of Bodelwyddan situated on the North Wales coast, but back in the year 1919 just after the war to end all wars another was about to begin in the shape of a riot by some four hundred men of the Canadian expeditionary force stationed in the camp adjacent to the village, in 1919 the camp and indeed Bodelwyddan were on the front page of almost every tabloid in the country.
The year is 1990 and I, Robert Bridge known fondly as Bob, and my wife Lilian had decided after fifteen years working for a credit card company it was time to maybe live near our aged parents in Abergele, another village not far from Bodelwyddan. It has to be said because of family ties we returned South at a later date.
Meanwhile we purchased an old Victorian house for the challenge of bringing it up to modern day standards. The house had been built around 1890 and stood in its own grounds away from the hubbub of everyday life. Our first chore was to have central heating installed, even though each and every room had an old Victorian fireplace. We then set about the many other chores that needed doing, and it came about whilst Lilian .was preparing lunch I decided it was time to clear the attic: now the attic like the rest of the house had not seen the light of day for many years. As I made my way through the tangled web I came across loads of old junk which included an old box in the corner; as I brushed away the dust I was confronted by the insignia of a Regiment that escaped me, a regiment from many years ago. Curiosity got the better of me so I shone my torch on the badge and proceeded to open the box.
Lo and behold to my surprise inside were a set of old manuscripts that were damp and almost unreadable. I found a crate to sit on and with the aide of my torch began to read of a story that had me mesmerized by the heading which read “Kinmel Revisited”. Now I had heard of Kinmel and the many stories that were told in the public houses, and of how an army officer and his wife had lodged in Abergele in 1919 during the riot at the camp. Suddenly it became clear as this fascinating story unfolded before me that we had in fact purchased the house, and the manuscripts had been written by him, manuscripts that had remained untouched in the box all those years.
I must say even with my torch much of the writing had been erased but the entire story was legible. Mesmerized by the story l felt myself being taken aback to an era long forgotten, to trenches and men screaming out in pain, and to Kinmel camp and the riot that Captain George Sawley witnessed. “Bob, your lunch is ready,” Lilian’s voice brought me back to reality, “OK love, be down in a second,” l shouted as I placed my find back in the box. Leaving it in the attic I went downstairs only to be confronted by Lilian. “What the hell have you been doing all this time?” she said as I stood open mouthed. ‘’Lillian, you are not going to believe this but we have purchased a house in which an army officer and his wife lodged during the riot at Kinmel in 1919, and guess what, the officer wrote down the story and its in the attic. Jesus it isn’t a treasure but it sure makes fascinating reading!”
That evening I brought the box down and we tried to compile the story of the Kinmel camp riot, and of how George came to be sent to Kinmel after the war. The next day we took a trip over to Bodelwyddan to the churchyard of St Margaret’s to see first hand the graves of five young men, who it seems died during the fracas of bullet and bayonet wounds. I then took my find to the local historical society and they said although faded it was a genuine manuscript and maybe one day a book will tell the story of the riot at Kinmel? We continued our chores and cleared out the attic but never came across any more papers. It seems the badge was of the Artillery and we had the job of keeping our find in good condition until, at a later date, I decided I wanted to write a book on the Riot at Kinmel, perhaps in memory of those five young men.
The frantic knocking on the door awakened me from the sleep I was trying to catch up on. I stumbled to my feet, belatedly realizing that I was not still in the trenches as the horrors of my dream seemed to indicate. The knocking continued so I pulled open the door to be confronted by torrential rain, and a half-drowned corporal who was obviously in a state of near panic.
‘’Captain Sawley, Sir,’’ he stuttered,” you must come at once! The Canadians have raided the canteen and barricade themselves in. They are well on the way to being drunk, sir, and the leader of the men is saying that if someone in authority does not tell them when they are going home they will bring the camp to its knees. They must be armed, sir, because they are threatening to shoot anyone who comes within range if their demands aren’t met.’ Without waiting for a reply the corporal saluted me and dashed off into the muck of the rain-soaked field we used as a parade ground, although it must be said that it looked more Like the desolate wastes of the front than any parade ground, and sounded like it too as sporadic gunfire echoed around the camp. As I watched the man disappear into the gloom I realized that this trouble was all mine. There was no one else to turn to but I prided myself that the Sawley name was one of honor and I, Captain George Sawley, would face this as l had faced the Germans at the front, with all the courage I could muster. lt was early March and the cold winter was taking its toll, Kinmel Park Camp, sited on the outskirts of the village of Bodelwyddan in North Wales was in the grip of a flu epidemic.

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