From Don Ligertwood, Devon

My great Uncle Captain Peter Ligertwood was mentioned in the war archives for the gallant Command of "A" Company 21 RMLI. He died on the 26th October 1917 leading his men through the shell holes of mud and heavy rain in the early morning, leading his men with four platoon flags, each man joined by spun yarn, in doing so it was found his Platoon was the only one not to lose any man drowning in a shell hole. Peter died of four bullets after managing to get his men to the Ridge.

We are a Royal Marine Family, my father Frederick joined at the age of l5 years, my cousin QMS Douglas Ligertwood also served in the Royal Marines. I also served with my cousin in 1954 at Eastney Barracks serving for 22 years. My son Neil also served until 2004. Since 1906 we are proud to be one of the longest serving Royal Marine Families. Sir Winston Churchill wrote about Peter, he is also mentioned in the Sea Soldiers, as well as “The Globe & Laurel”, which at that time was priced at three pence.

You may like to use the “Story of the Platoon Flag” (below). I have included a few photographs including one of Captain P. Ligertwood and my father, Frederick, which now rests on the wall of the Officers Mess Stone House.

Peter LigertWood 1906	Peter Ligertwood	Peter Ligertwood and son Frederick
Polecappelle British Cemetery, Belgium		The headstone of Peter Ligertwood

THE STORY OF A PLATOON FLAG.

I MAKE no apology for introducing a rather serious note into a Variety Programme, for I think that most of you would wish me, or at all events someone to tell you the following story, which I shall try and put into as few words as possible,

Those of us who were present at Church Parade last Sunday morning witnessed a brief and simple, but very impressive, little ceremony. We had the unique experience of hearing the buglers sound off “Last Post” and “Reveille” in the middle of the fore-noon. We listened to the stirring words in which the Commandant briefly explained the nature of the ceremonial, and we saw a small Platoon Flag received into the safe keeping of the Plymouth Division.
Those of you who out of range of the Commandant's voice may have wondered why so much stir was made over such an insignificant flag as the one we saw on that occasion. It certainly in no way resembled the Silken Flags emblazoned with the Corps Device and the Royal Cypher - the King's and the Regimental Colour which hang in the Officers' Mess Room. The flag we saw was no more than a wisp of red bunting, faded and weather stained, nailed to a three foot stick cut in the woods of France. I doubt, indeed, whether it would fetch more than a copper or two as a second hand toy for a child; and yet, apart from the great traditions which hang around them, I think the Platoon Flag is even more worthy of preservation than the Corps Colours themselves. The latter, certainly the newest of them, have never been in action, whereas the little Platoon Flag has come through one of the stiffest fights of the present war.

On the night of the 25th October a night dark and rainy the 188th Infantry Brigade occupied the front line trenches facing the Passchendaele Ridge. With it went the 1st and 2nd Battalions of the Royal Marines. It is with the latter that I am chiefly concerned to night. "A" Company of that Battalion was commanded by the late Lieutenant Ligertwood. Ligertwood joined the Corps as a recruit at the Depot some eleven years ago, and quickly made his mark as a fine shot and an able Instructor in Musketry and Machine Gun, Last year he won his commission, and probably no commission from the ranks has been more deservedly earned than his. After serving at Blandford and in Ireland during the recent troubles, he went to the Western front, and soon afterwards was invalided home. When he had recovered or perhaps I should say, when he considered himself sufficiently recovered   he applied to rejoin his Battalion. But there were official difficulties in the way. He had been struck off the strength; but, with the true "Nelson Touch", he appears to have turned a blind eye to Official Memoranda, and, making his way to Folkestone, he contrived to get himself ferried across the Channel. He eventually succeeded in rejoining his Battalion, though, unfortunately, at the sacrifice of his temporary rank of Captain.

The communication between the front and rear trenches on the night of October 25th was by means of a narrow and exceedingly dangerous path, The ground on either side was pitted with shell holes, filled with water and surrounded by liquid mud. Owing to the difficulties of communication each man had to carry, in addition to his arms, his pack, rations for three days, 170 rounds of ammunition, with flares, bombs, and other impedimenta of modern warfare. Overburdened in this manner, a false step in the darkness - I have already told you the night was a black and rainy one - would have meant certain death. But Ligertwood, who was noted for his resourcefulness and care for the welfare of his men, hit upon a device, which, simple in itself, does not appear to have occurred to anyone else. He connected each man with his front and rear comrades by means of spunyarn, with the result, I believe, that "A" Company reached the trench without a single casualty by drowning.

But in addition to his resourcefulness and other qualities I have mentioned, Ligertwood possessed the gift of imagination   a gift frequently derided by those who do not possess it, but which is nevertheless a valuable asset in every walk of life and is especially useful to a soldier. He revived the old tradition of carrying the Colours into action, and since the Regimental Colour itself was far away, he substituted on this occasion four Platoon Flags. He instinctively saw that they might serve as rallying points and as sources of inspiration in battle. His intuition was amply justified. The Flags had previously been blessed by the Battalion Chaplain, and the men rightly regarded them as sacred. When, in the misty October dawn, "A " Company went over the top, the four Platoon Flags went with them.

The ground beyond the trench was exceedingly difficult to negotiate. The deep mud in places was impassable, the many streams were in flood, so that the men were often knee deep and sometimes breast high in water. The positions of men who fell were indicated by sticking their rifles and bayonets into the mud as a guide to the stretcher parties, and were the means of saving many a wounded man who would otherwise have been lost.

As we know, the objective was gained and the Ridge captured. But the Battalion, which had swept over the parapet in the early dawn, 750 bayonets strong, sustained ere the close of the fight 350 casualties in officers and men, including the gallant Ligertwood himself.

He had been hit three times during the advance, yet still continued to lead his men. But the fourth wound, unhappily, proved mortal. He was carried to a shell hole, where, having shaken hands with the men nearest him, he pointed to the Ridge, and said, “There is your objective, lads; get it!” So died one of the most gallant soldiers the Corps has produced during its 250 years' strenuous history.

Of the four Platoon Flags three came safely out of action. The bearer of the fourth was unhappily, killed and the flag was lost in the deep Flanders mud. Of the three survivors one now rests on the wall of the men's library at this Division.

It may be – I do not say it is so – that one or two of those who witnessed Sunday's ceremoimial, or of those others who may read its narrative in the “Globe and Laurel” or elsewhere, are inclined are inclined to regard it as an exhibition of childish sentiment and obsolete nonsense. In the course of the present war, we have reverted to mar things which were regarded as obsolete centuries ago. There is hanging in the Officers' Mess at the present time a suit of German armour, recently captured in the trenches, which might well have been worn by one of the Crusaders eight hundred years ago.
The metal head dress worn by men on active service to day is almost identical in appearance with the steel caps of Cromwell's Ironsides.The bombs thrown from the trenches are but, a reversion to the hand grenades which were used by Marlborough's soldiers at Blenheim, and which gave their name to the Grenadier Regiments of to-day. And if the sentiment be childish, I for one am not asham¬ed to rank myself among those grown up children who still cherish sentiment - sentiment which swept our comrades to victory up the slopes of the Passchendaele Ridge in that dim October dawn, which created, and still holds together, the British Empire, and which has carried England into the present conflict.

I hope that the little Platoon Flag, which inspired our comrades in Flanders and round which so many of them fell, may, as it hangs upon the wall of your library, fill future generations of Marines with pride for their great Corps, whose traditions and battle record cannot be touched by any other Regiment in the King’s Forces.
Our Corps throughout its history has notoriously received most of the kicks and fewest of the ha’pence. But a man's work, whatever it may be, is not to be measured by ha'pence alone. A Corp which can produce such a man as Ligertwood   and thousands of others equally good   is surely a Corps to belong to, and to be very proud of!

W. P. D.

In the 1914~18 War no battalion actually carried Colours, but in some cases platoon flags were carried. At the battle of Passchendale (in Flanders) on 26th October, 1917, “A” Company, 2/R.M.L.I., gallantly led by Lieut. P. Ligertwood, who     had connected his men with spunyarn to prevent their leaving the narrow tracks through the mud, crossed the Paddebeeke and made good their     position there. He had provided each of his platoons with a small red flag, which had been blessed by the battalion Chaplain, and these were carried forward, and served as rallying points for the platoons;     three of these now rest at Chatham, Portsmouth and Plymouth; the bearer of the fourth was killed and the flag lost in the mud. Lieutenant Ligertwood, who had gained his commission from the ranks during the war, unfortunately died of his wounds. (“B.S.S.” Vol. III., p. 335)
The casualties in this battle were:
1/R.M.L.I. – 4 officers killed, 6 wounded; 270 n.c.o.’s and men killed and wounded
2/R.M.L.I. – 4 officers killed, 4 wounded; 391 n.c.o.’s and men killed and wounded