SSNS Home > Senior Years > Curricula 9-12 > Grade 11 > Canadian History > Remembrance Day > Canadian Engineers > English
English, William Andrew, Cardale, Manitoba, formerly Palmerstone, Ontario. Occupation: Farmer. Military Service: Pte, Sapper, Reg. No. 922827, 200th Overseas Battalion C.E.F, 107th Canadian Pioneer Battalion, Attestation Papers. Diary Reference: “ “English went to the hospital today,” 17 Jan ’18; “Had a letter from Cis & one from English,” 3 June ’18; “Had 3 letters from home, and one from B. English,” 21 Jun ’18.
Additional Biographical Information:
Reg. No. 922827, Pte. William Andrew English, born in Canada, no previous military service, enlisted 13 February 1916 at Winnipeg, next-of-kin: Mrs Hanna English, Cardale, Manitoba. Nominal Roll of the 200th Battalion, Bob Richard Collection, p.5.
October/November 1917: “We had a chum there [Ypres], named English from Newdale [sic-Cardale]. He was very young, and very nervous. When we were all in bed, and a plane would come over, away he would run. I never knew where, and returned when it was all over. It is funny he was never hit.” “My Impressions & Experiences, 4 August 1916 – 18 April 1918” by Jack Beaumont, p. 11.
Late 1917?: “One calm, and peaceful night, we were suddenly and severely awakened by a regular salvo, we retired, and our spades and picks were smashed to kindling wood. Blessed relief, we had to go home. Our party was split up, all the N.G.O.s had gone, and the senior man had to lead us out. Now I was all for speed, because if we stayed in one place [p. 17] too long, a shell was sure to hunt us up. So when the Verey [Very] lights flared up, away we tore, falling over wire, and digging our noses into the lovely soft mud. We had to cross a road from the end of one trench into another, and every minute a shell hit it. How we ever escaped that night, I don’t know, the shells landed between us, (duds, fortunately) and we had all crossed into the trench except English. Just as he crossed, bang went a shell right behind him, and he landed in the middle of us, head first. Of course I had to laugh, he looked so funny, scuttling across the road, but I was ready to cash in my check, just the same. When I look back, now, it seems to be all part of a nasty dream, and yet, much as I hated it, I would not have missed it for worlds.” “My Impressions & Experiences, 4 August 1916 – 18 April 1918” by Jack Beaumont, p. 16-17