Christopher Clay





Oxford Road (picture from SWOP website)

Memorial plaque for Christopher Clay in High Wycombe Cemetery





Christopher Clay 1892 - 1915

I was born in early January of 1892 to George and Jemima Clay. We lived at 40 Oxford Road, High Wycombe, a busy street, which was good news for us since my parents had a shoemaker business and sold their shoes in a little shop on the ground floor of our home. We were a big family; I was the seventh and youngest child so you can imagine that with so many of us life was noisy at home! Tragedy struck the family when I was just 5 years old. My father died and life was especially hard from then on.

I was always interested in Medicine, particularly dental work. I ended up working as a dental assistant for Mr Padgett, who had his clinic on Easton Street. I continued to live with my mother but then I moved to Lowestoft in Suffolk when an opportunity cropped up for a dental technician there. I boarded with the Mitchell family.

That was my life for the next couple of years. When war broke out, I was keen to join up and I couldn’t wait to go to the enlistment centre to do my part in the war. I was stationed with other recruits and we all trained really hard for many months. During that time, it came out that my medical training, however meagre, qualified me for the Royal Army Medical Corps. I joined the 54th Casualty Clearing Station around my 23rd birthday in 1915, little did I know that this would be my last birthday.

My division was called to help in the Gallipoli Campaign, which had begun in the February of the same year, and all my comrades were as excited as I was that our mission would be in Turkey against the legendary Ottoman Empire. We sailed on the 28th July 1915 on the troopship the Royal Edward. The ship was crowded; there were some 32 officers and 1,350 troops on board, reinforcements for Gallipoli. By the 11th of August, we docked at Alexandria; home seemed so far away.

Two days later, I remember one of the many men hanging over the railings being sick. It was at this time that he caught sight of the small Island of Kandeloussa. He shouted to us all to come and see. I rushed with many others to the railing to catch a glimpse of the beautiful and green island. The view of the white beach visible even from afar was the last thing I saw. At exactly 9:15 am on that Friday, 13th August 1915, a German submarine UB14 ended over 861 lives, including mine, with just one torpedo. The torpedo hit the stern and the ship sank in just six minutes. There was just enough time to send out a SOS message and fortunately the hospital ship the Soudan managed to pick up some of the men. I wasn’t to be one of the lucky ones.

Due to my heavy uniform, my body sank to the bottom of the sea and there I remained. You will find my name inscribed on the 201st panel on the left side of the Helles Memorial, which stands on the tip of the Gallipoli Peninsula. There are 20,000 names on this tall obelisk and as ships pass through the Dardanelles they cannot help but see it. It serves not just as a memorial to the missing but a reminder of the horrors of war. You will also find my name on the High Wycombe Memorial Plaque. It’s good to think that I’m remembered in my home town too.



Researched by Neill George, Gill Evans, and the girls of Wycombe Abbey School

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