Born: 1884
Died: 2 October 1915
Buried:
Address: Shakespeare Street, Otley Road, Eccleshill
Parents:
Spouse: Yes
Siblings: Mrs Bordase, sister
Occupation:
Organisations/clubs:
Military
Rank: Cpl
Medals/awards:
Rolls of Honour:
Children: Three
Regiment: 3 Rifle Brigade
David Leach
I have at last managed to secure
writing materials to send you this
letter.
I have now been in the trenches six
weeks with an interval of a week
for rest. The weather at night is
bitterly cold and for the last three
days it has done nothing but rain.
You would hardly know me now
for I am covered from head to foot
with wet clay. In fact I don’t know
what it feels like to be dry. I’ve not
had a wash or a shave for three
weeks and we are living like
rabbits burrowed in the ground.
Dose of shrapnel
It is a bit of a change when the
Germans start giving us a dose of
shrapnel and we had it the other
night for nearly three hours. If we
put our heads out of the trenches
during the day, there is a strong
probability of getting our brains
blown out.
It is disgraceful how the Germans
loot the homes of the unfortunate
refugees.
The country around here is in a
shocking state for our foes delight
in ruining both towns and villages.
Their Jack Johnsons and Black
Marias are terrible for when a
shell bursts it makes a hole in the
ground large enough to bury a
horse and cart.
If there is a hell, I’ve been in it and
I don’t know how I have managed
to come out alive.
But though we have lost heavily, the
Germans have lost ten times more
and have all about had enough.
I have no idea how long the war
will last but it will be a blessing
when it is over.
Thanks to his wife and especially to his sister, Mrs Bordase of 2 The
Bank, Eccleshill, who passed on several of his letters to the Shipley
Times & Express, we know quite a lot about David Leach’s war and
what it was like to be a soldier in the trenches.
CHRISTMAS AT THE FRONT
A week later the newspaper published an extract from a letter to his sister describing Christmas in the
trenches. While there was a truce where he was, there was certainly no mingling or playing football.
He wrote: I hope you enjoyed yourself this Christmas, for mine exceeded expectations.
At our part of the line not a shot was fired all Christmas. The Germans even illuminated their trenches at
night and their band played till the early hours of Christmas morning.
They gave us a taste of their singing, for Christmas carols were sung all the night through. They gave us
plenty of invitations to go and spend a pleasant evening with them in their trenches, promising us a safe
return which, of course, we did not accept. Some of them came out of their trenches and marched half
way across to ours to beg of us to go and have an enjoyable Christmas.
I don’t know what it has looked like at home but here it is the most ideal Christmas I have seen for years.
Everything is white with frost and the trees and fields look charming.
If there is a hell I’ve been in it
Remember the Lusitania
You would hardly credit what we have to fight
against for beasts and human fiends are names
far too good for them.
Their race ought to be exterminated from the
earth.
If you could only see the awful agony of our
brave men when they have been gassed it would
make your blood run cold.
Our watchword now is ‘Remember the
Lusitania.’
Every man a hero
If you want a real good war picture get the
charge of the Rifle Brigade at Neuve Chapelle.
Ours was the first regiment to enter the village.
It was a splendid victory for us but it cost us
dear. After a battle like that is over you look
back over the ground that has been won and see
the dead and dying and every man of them a
hero.
Then your mind travels to the homes they have
left in dear old England, where mother, wife or
sweetheart is patiently waiting for news of their
dear ones.. What we can honestly say about
those who have gone as well as those who
remain is that we have endeavoured to uphold
the best traditions of the British race.
On 18 June 1915 the newspaper published two
more letters David, now a corporal, had sent to
his sister. This one included a strong
condemnation of workers at home who were on
strike The other (right) reflects on the battle of
Neuve Chapelle.
In reply to you inquiry as to whether I have
been promoted, my
address at the head
of the letter
indicates it and it
was granted for
good conduct in
the field. If I have
the good luck to go
through the war I hope to rise to a higher post
still.
You may have noticed in the papers that the
war is degenerating into a barbarous contest
and I can assure you that we have to be very
alert or we can easily be caught by the terrible
gas that the Germans use.
We are now supplied with goggles and mouth
pads and have to keep them handy, ready for
instant use. I don’t think people at home realise
the awful result of breathing in this fearful
stuff. In their attempts upon our position it has
so far failed. Of course presence of mind goes a
long way on these occasions but one can never
be too careful.
As you mention smoking I might say that at
one time we were well supplied with cigarettes
but there has been a shortage for some time
past.
There is great
discontent among the
troops of our division
regarding the
extraordinary
behaviour of workmen
in the old country. Here
we are in the trenches, fighting against great
odds, fighting a most barbarous and cunning
enemy, and doing our very best to bring this
terrible war to a successful conclusion and yet
the very people we are depending on at home
are shirking their work and causing strikes.
Such people are the direct cause of many a
brave man’s death. If these same strikers and
shirkers were to be placed in the trenches and
got a dose of the Jack Johnson’s and a taste of
the gas, I think it would bring them to their
senses
The war is degenerating into a barbarous contest
On 22 October 1915, the Shipley Times & Express reported that David’s wife had
received a letter from Sgt E M Gallagher of the 3rd Rifle Brigade:
“It is with the deepest regret that I have to inform you of the death of your
husband. He was killed by a shell that burst just over the trench, which hit him in
several places. The missile killed two others and wounded four.
“On behalf of the whole company I offer you our deepest sympathy. Your
husband was our esteemed comrade and will be greatly missed in our platoon. He
was always willing to do whatever was required and however hard the job or
whatever risk he ran, I never heard him grumble.
Bear up as well as possible
“I could always rely on him to carry out his work in a satisfactory manner. I shall
miss him very much for all the time I have known him I have found him to be a
thoroughly good and hard-working soldier. I hope for the sake of the little ones
you will bear up as well as possible.”
The newspaper then filled in some of the other details of his life:
Cpl Leach joined the Militia at a very early age and soon after enlisting
developed into a splendid shot, an honour which he retained to the end. On
joining the Rifle Brigade he was sent to Malta and while there had the exciting
adventure of having to swim a mile in his clothes to escape the wrath of some
infuriated natives.
From Malta he was transferred to Belfast and during the riots did duty with the
military police and one of the ruffians with whom he had to deal was sent for a
long term of imprisonment.
Titanic
While at Belfast his time expired and being placed on the reserve, he found
employment in the dockyard and was in at the launching of the Titanic. On
coming to Bradford later, he assisted in the erection of the Alhambra.
At the outbreak of war he rejoined his old regiment and went over to France in
September 1914 and met his death after the advance at Loos at the age of 31. He
resided at 34 Shakespeare Street, Otley Road, and he leaves a widow and three
children.
Deceased was brother to Mrs Bordase of 2 The Bank, Eccleshill. In addition to
being a crack shot, Cpl Leach was both a good swimmer and a fine boxer.
I thought it was my last spell on earth
A letter to his sister, published on 1 October 1915 read:
‘During the last week of trench duty we passed through more
exciting times than at any period during the twelve months
we have been out at the front. I am quite willing to admit
that I thought it was my last spell on earth.’
‘I had not been asleep long one night before there was a
terrific explosion and the ringing in my ears was awful.
‘When I opened my eyes I found myself pinned to the earth
by the broken beams of my dug-out and it was only with the
greatest difficulty that I was able to get out.
‘A shell had pitched right on the top of the corrugated iron
roof of the dug-out and the strength of the roof had saved
me from a terrible death.’
The second event, he said, was even worse.
‘About five one morning the Germans bombarded our
trenches for nearly four hours and the last hour their gunners
seemed to be racing each other which could send them the
quickest.
‘It was estimated that they came at the rate of 250 to the
minute and they gradually blew the trench to pieces.
‘I was one of the few in the forward trench which caught the
majority of the shells. What a sensation we passed through.
Lost their nerve
‘Shells of all descriptions were dropping all round the trench
and we were almost blinded with dirt and nearly choked with
the small of powder.
‘Three of my men lost their nerve and they were sent to the
trench behind for cover. The four of us stuck where we were,
kneeling in the trench bottom waiting for death. It is still a
miracle to me how we escaped. None of us could speak when
the bombardment ceased.
‘If I am spared to come home I shall be able to tell you other
things that will make you open your eyes a bit wider. After
all, am glad to say I am still keeping well.’
It is with the deepest regret…
