Private Alfred Osborn Hopwood Litherland
678033
Father of 5 – Aged 41
Born London, England
Lived in Toronto, ON
Killed on July 23rd, 1917 in the raid at Fosse 4 at Avion, France
It was passed from man to man, from dugout to dugout. From beneath the light of a flickering candle, gripping the blunt pencil, each man used it in the search for something to say. They have been writing letters home since they arrived in both England and France, however this letter was going to be different. They had been serving as a reserve battalion for each of the other attacks…every one since Vimy. They watched as the other battalions going over the top, with fewer men returning after it was all over. It was not that the 116th did not know death, 31 fellow soldiers, mates from their own platoon or from neighbouring ones had died this far in the campaign. Some of the men even attended the graveside ceremonies. Others were tasked at carrying back the bodies of their stricken mates to areas in reserve. Death was not new to the men of the 116th…however most of the deaths they had experienced were random in nature. Death from above. Death by an artillery shell that just happened to hit them when they happened to be in the place when the shell decided to burst. It was all rather random and relatively unexpected. This time was going to be different.
The date written on the top of the letter was July 21st, 1917. After spending ten days and nights practicing for the raid, he was now in one of the forward trenches, pencil and paper in hand searching for something to say. He was writing to Annie, his wife and mother of his five children. Five children? Yes, his eldest was Leo. He was already 16 years of age and was closer to the average age of the men serving in the trenches than himself. His youngest was Loretto. A beautiful baby girl who he never met. She was born after he departed for war. He was Alfred Osborn Hopwood Litherland. A wee man…5 ft 1 ½ in height and barely weighed 110 lbs. The native of London, England and now resident of Toronto ON was 40 years of age and was heading off to war.
While the story about his decision to go only resides in the memories passed down from his family, at his age he surely could have sought an exemption. In Jan 1916 there were scores of young men queuing along the approaches to the Recruitment Offices in towns across the country. Yet probably due to his prior military experience and sense of duty, Alfred decided to leave his grossly pregnant wife and four (almost five) children behind and join the cause. Alfred started his tour with the 169th Battalion, based out of Toronto, and was transferred to the 116th in January of 1917. He joined the men as they were sent over to France on February 11th.
The Battalion Diary does not go into substantial detail on what the men did two days before the attack. However, thankfully and tragically we do have a record of the final words written by Alfred to his wife Annie. She shared them with a local Toronto newspaper, passing along new from the front. In the letter Alfred let her know that his battalion was planning on a big attack and looking to settle her concerns, his note expounded that “I am going to advance with the best heart possible, tomorrow will be a great day for our battalion. I guess a few of us will shake tomorrow, and it will soon be over, whichever way it had to be. Don’t take this letter too seriously, everyone does not get killed of injured, so you see I’ve the same chance as everybody else.”
As a bricklayer with 5 kids at home, one can forgive Alfred for not having enough time to brush up on his Austen inspired romantic skills with the pencil. However, one can presume that his regular letters back home would more accurately reflect his concern for how Annie was managing to raise the brood by herself while he was off serving. He seemed like a caring man. A realist. An optimist. In a copy of his last will and testament, the other surviving document written by Alfred, he attested with compassion and concern that his wife receive everything he had possessed. He did love and care for his dear Annie.
With the signing of that note and the passing of the pencil to the next gent in the line, the rest was up to fate, chance and history. His body was never recovered. It is not clear if he was part of B or C Company and may have died engaged in hand-to-hand combat with the enemy as they sought to take the Railway Embankment after passing the mountainous slag heap. Or he may have been with D Company that relived the men in B and C, only to fight off a determined German counterattack…many returning safely to the trenches, many not. Either way, and this one is certain, as the battalion returned to the Canadian trenches, out there…in the darkness lay the body of a soldier, the father of five, the loving, caring husband of an understanding and supportive wife. Alfred Osborn Hopwood Litherland…Remember him.