Warrior: The true story of the real war horse

Warrior: The true story of the real war horse
Isabel George

An inspiring and heart-warming short story of devotion and bravery.A thoroughbred horse, Warrior, is passed through various owners before he is shipped to the thick of the action on the Western Front to serve as his current master’s mount for all four years of the First World War.Warrior and General ‘Galloping Jack Seeley’ were involved from the first engagements through to one of the last, the Battle of Moreuil Wood. Together they fought in terrifying battles and witnessed the death of many horses and masters who served alongside them, terrible deaths, but through it all Warrior seemed to pass like a spirit.This is the tale of his heroic wartime exploits and eventual return to the green fields of England. An evocative and powerful story of a real and great war horse.Warrior’s story was the basis for the fictional Joey in Michael Morpurgo’s War Horse.

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Epigraph (#u92e01a94-60f2-5c2f-ae11-c65e3d9fd369)

Warrior saw action on all the major battlefields of the Western Front during the First World War

They said he was ‘the horse the Germans couldn’t kill’

His owner recommended him for the Victoria Cross

He was one man’s best friend

A saviour of men

Contents

Cover (#u64696bc8-7ee7-5129-b6b3-2b8bd9cd4fba)

Title Page (#ulink_888acaef-8e08-5743-9dd1-292512e70da7)

Epigraph (#ulink_d9f57839-e34e-512a-8c5a-4b5e199644f3)

Warrior (#ulink_cb083e90-56b8-5be1-a6cd-dde59731cd50)

Bonded forever (#ulink_d5674fa1-1156-59e4-8ba0-940619b0b377)

Farewell to home (#ulink_81109d19-2bd2-52e3-8b5b-0dfff9ab8401)

‘Three cheers for old Warrior!’ (#ulink_90bddaf3-15ab-5947-87c9-8188a2ba727c)

The winter of mud (#litres_trial_promo)

Hard winter on the Somme (#litres_trial_promo)

The Canadian Cavalry: ‘Seely’s Lions’ (#litres_trial_promo)

Warrior meets the tanks (#litres_trial_promo)

The last crusade (#litres_trial_promo)

‘All my life had led to this’ (#litres_trial_promo)

Warrior the conquering hero (#litres_trial_promo)

A picture paints … (#litres_trial_promo)

Coming soon from Isabel George … (#litres_trial_promo)

Moving Memoirs eNewsletter (#litres_trial_promo)

Write for Us (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

Warrior (#u92e01a94-60f2-5c2f-ae11-c65e3d9fd369)

‘Warrior, the time has come to live up to your name. We are needed over the water in France, but don’t worry; we will face this war together. We will go there, do what needs to be done and return home, please God, unscathed. So what do you say, my Warrior? What do you say?’

General Jack Seely spoke softly to his beloved horse who leant in to rest his warm cheek against his master’s. Seely knew what Warrior’s answer would be. The horse was made of the same fibres as his owner: nothing scared him. Already a war hero having seen conflict in the Boer War, Seely had carved a name for himself as an able horseman. Galloping across the South African veldt, he had tested the spirit of man and horse against an unforgiving environment and a merciless enemy – and won. ‘Galloper Jack’, as he was affectionately known, was ready to take up arms for his country once more.

It was August 1914 and Britain was at war with Germany. Seely was preparing to join a troop ship to the Western Front and this time his adventure would include his horse, Warrior, an unusually short-legged, 15.2 hands bay thoroughbred with a bright white star on his forehead. A horse whose iron will and brave heart would protect one man and inspire a nation.

Bonded forever (#u92e01a94-60f2-5c2f-ae11-c65e3d9fd369)

Warrior was born in the spring of 1908 and raised on the family estate on the Isle of Wight, where he enjoyed all the love and privilege any horse could ever need for a healthy and happy start in life. Seely was working at the Colonial Office in London when he received a telegram announcing the new arrival: ‘Fine child for Cinderella born at Yafford this morning. Both doing well.’ Seely was overjoyed and excitedly shared the news with colleagues, although not all of them understood why the birth of a foal warranted the sending of a telegram. To Seely, this was family news; he was pleased to hear that the foal had delivered safely and relieved that his beloved charger, Cinderella, was doing well after the birth.

The fields of the Mottistone Downs that pitched and dipped their way to the sea were Warrior’s playground. Feeling at home there, and seldom more than a few feet away from his mother, he grew into a calm and affectionate youngster. As he galloped and frolicked across the rolling countryside, Warrior also began to show that he was every bit his father’s son. His sire – a handsome chestnut stallion called Straybit – had speed in his bloodline. His ancestors included horses such as Voltigeur, who won the Derby and the St Leger in 1850. The year after Warrior was born, Straybit romped home to win the Isle of Wight Lightweight race, leaving his competitors tasting the earth he kicked up in his wake.

So Warrior developed into a reflection of all that was good in his parents’ characters, but there was something inside Warrior that shone beyond the good looks, gentle nature and his speed, which his master soon discovered. When Seely first rode Warrior, it was unfortunate that he chose entirely different clothes to those he had been wearing when he’d made his many visits to Cinderella and her son in the fields. Taking one look at the new outfit, Warrior wasn’t sure if he wanted this man on his back! He pulled his ears back, snorted and pawed the air with his front legs. After the third time of being pitched onto the ground, Seely decided to have a quiet word with his horse and explain that they could carry on like this forever, but he would really rather they became friends. He even suggested they might be ‘friends together for all our lives’. Warrior, comforted by Seely’s gentle tones, dipped his head and rubbed his warm, dewy nose against his master’s cheek. From that moment the two were inseparable.

There were moments at home on the Isle of Wight, as Seely rode his young horse over the chalky Downs to the water’s edge, when Warrior showed his master that he had a gift for harnessing and for denying fear its power. At first Warrior wasn’t sure if he liked the sea and certainly not the breaking water, but his master encouraged him closer to the point where he could feel it ripple over his feet. He liked it. He didn’t allow it to frighten him. Little by little, with patience and understanding on his side, Seely was eventually able to walk his horse into the waves. There and then he realised the courage of this horse. He might have been trembling a little at first, but then Warrior absorbed his own fear. It was Warrior’s steadfast bravery as he faced the wall of tumbling water that made Seely realise his horse was not only fearless, but even radiated a sense of calm.

As a veteran of the Boer War, General Jack Seely had seen horses suffer in the most horrific ways and would not have wanted any of that for Warrior. Everyone was talking about signing up for King and Country and being home for Christmas, but Seely had devoted his civilian life to politics and he sincerely doubted the Great War would be over in four months. Even before he had returned from the war in South Africa he had been voted in as MP for the Isle of Wight, and alongside his great friend Winston Churchill (a war correspondent in the Boer conflict) he had nurtured a parliamentary career. By 1913, while Churchill accepted the role of First Lord of the Admiralty, Jack Seely was in the pivotal role of Secretary of State for War.

Seely did not rush into donating Warrior for the war effort. First, he pondered his concerns and talked them over with his friends in politics who also knew of Warrior’s qualities and his suitability for the task at hand. He had already made one leap of faith in his decision to train the youngster as a charger, not a racehorse. He heard from his trainer ‘Young Jim’ Joliffe how his young horse showed calm intelligence and that he was wise and lovable, but he also knew that he was brave and fearless. In the spirit of Empire and all that was considered good and honourable in the service of the monarch, Jack Seely signed up for war and volunteered Warrior, too.

Warrior had no idea that he would soon be wrenched from the comfort of his mother’s love. He was just four years old but he was about to embark on an episode that would require him to focus every ounce of his courage and resilience on survival. All he ever was and all he ever could be would converge at that moment.

The pair took one last gallop over the Downs together. The smell of the sea clung to their hair and clods of sweet earth spat up from the fields as Warrior pounded the ground. ‘My Warrior, we are about to go on an adventure and neither of us can know what it will bring. One thing is for sure: we will be together and we will care for each other until we can ride these fields again.’

Farewell to home (#u92e01a94-60f2-5c2f-ae11-c65e3d9fd369)

Warrior had hardly been away from his mother’s side since the day he was born, but early on 11 August 1914 he left behind the security and tranquillity of home to start his journey to the battlefields of the Western Front. He called to his mother as he was led from the field, and as the gate closed behind him he took one last look at home. Cinderella galloped along the edge of the field, watching her son being taken from her. She followed until she ran out of field, calling to Warrior in a language only the two of them could understand. It was a mournful, empty sound and when it stopped the silence was solid.

For weeks after her son’s departure, Cinderella paced Sidling Paul – the huge pasture she now had all to herself. Wandering around with her head bowed, she had no interest in anything or anyone, despite the best efforts of the Seely children to console her. She was missing Warrior and there was no doubt that he would be missing her.

When they reached Southampton docks Seely and Warrior met a scene of chaos. Men, horses, supplies and equipment were crowded together waiting to be loaded onto the troopships. One way or another, it all had to find a way to the men at the Front.

As an officer’s mount Warrior would be watched very closely by the men assigned to look after the horses during the Channel crossing. The majority of the horses around him were not so lucky. Taken from farms and fields all over Britain, the majority of the horses requisitioned by the Army that summer had never been further than their own stable, field and back yard. Now they were lined up, flanks quivering, eyes wide, waiting for their turn to be led up the gangway to the deck or settled in mass makeshift stalls in the hold.

Warrior didn’t need much coaxing up the gangway, but others found the experience traumatic. When panic set in with one or two horses, the others smelled fear. There were reports of some getting so agitated that they broke free of their ropes and bolted through the docks in a bid to escape. One who made it on deck with the bustling, stomping, snorting heave of horses decided to take a leap of faith, crashing the barrier and falling overboard. As the troopships pulled away from the quay, the men and the other horses could do nothing to help the horse destined to drown.

In just two weeks the British Army had requisitioned 140,000 horses from all over Britain and all had to be transported to France in overcrowded troopships as quickly as possible. The heave and swell of the water and the cramped, sweltering conditions below deck ensured a number of the horses never completed their journey. Some fell during the voyage and broke their legs, while others were claimed by the trauma. Warrior was one of the lucky ones. Later that day, on 11 August, he trotted ashore at Le Havre with Seely by his side.