William Chapman was born in Uxbridge, Ontario, on September 29, 1876, the son of Charles Dillon Chapman (a farmer) and Mary Ann (nee Harman) Chapman, of Uxbridge, Ontario. His siblings included: Charlotte Frances (born 1872); Frederick (born 1874, died within a year); Florence Alexena (born 1880); and Della Minnie Ellen (born 1883). At the age of 15, William and his family were living in York West (1891). At the age of 24, William and his family were living in Huron, Michigan (1900). William would marry Bessie Violet (nee Boyd, of Newfoundland) Chapman on February 7, 1906, in Etobicoke, York. The couple would have three children together, all girls. In 1910, William and Bessie, along with their three daughters, were living in Blair, Pennsylvania. One year later, they moved to Lambton, eventually living at 206 Maria Street, Sarnia. William and Bessie would have seven children together: Della May (born 1906); Florence (born 1907); Charolotte Evelyn (born 1909); Dorothy May (born 1911); Ruth Marguerite (born 1913); Charles (born 1914); and Douglas (born 1915).
William enlisted first on August 27, 1915 in Sarnia. At the time, he listed his occupation as a gardener, and recorded that he had previous military experience with the 70th and 39th Battalions, being overseas for 17 months in France. William’s second Attestation, his Officer’s Declaration, was on February 13, 1917 in Ottawa, with the 257th Battalion. At that time, he listed his occupation as a building contractor. He became a member of the Army, Canadian Railway Troops, 7th Battalion, eventually attaining the rank of Corporal.
In August 1917, Thomas Peacock, a friend of William Chapman who was living at 294 Wellington Street, Sarnia, received a letter from William in France, who was a sergeant at that time. The following is an excerpt from that letter:
Somewhere at the Front,
Thurs., July 5, 1917
Dear Friend and Bro.
Just a few lines to let you know that I am still well at present, but working hard. We have had some very strenuous times at this part of the front as you have no doubt seen by the papaers of the past month. It took lots of hard work and preparation to make the move successfully, but it was accomplished day and night under constant observation of the enemy, and he tried to put every obstacle in the way by sending over all kinds of shrapnel and high explosives. But still we outwitted him and when the time came our artillery simply smothered him with one of the greatest bombardments the world has ever known. Part of his works was blown up by one of the largest blasts ever set off. You could bury a large farm in the crater or hole of the same. Hundreds of Hun were buried in it and will never come out till judgement day. I saw the craters of no less than three of those mines. I had the opportunity of being on the battlefield directly after the big advance and saw some terrible sights. Fritz’s trenches for a mile in depth were literally wiped out….. Dead Germans lying all over, some partly buried by shells, some caught in the ruins of their trenches as they had been trying to climb out to come over to us to give up, others lying dead in their concrete dugouts where they had crawled to die, or by being bombed by our advancing Tommies…
We are all looking forward to the time we push the cruel Hun to final defeat which we hope will come soon. But it looks like as though those still at home will have to send a few more over to make good our losses. Victories are never won without paying the price, which in this case is human lives and must draw heavily upon the young manhood of the country as it is indeed a young man’s war, for it is no place for an old man.
I was lucky enough to see the explosion of the mines mentioned, and believe me, it was a sight the like of which few will ever have the pleasure of seeing again. It literally filled the air with flame and the tremble of the ground was felt for miles around. It was a grand spectacle if one could forget that part of the setting was human lives. Talk about rivers being red with blood, here it was shell holes filled with water that was red with blood. There is nothing to compare to the work of our guns. If you see their results you would think as one German sergeant, a prisoner, said to me, that a fly could not go through the fire, and come out alive, let alone a human being. The prisoners I saw looked pretty tough, being from young boys to old men, and looked pretty shaky from the dreadful mauling they went through. Have had quite a number of miraculous escapes myself from high explosive shells and shrapnel. One sharp piece of shrapnel split the end of my thumb and cut down my puttee, ripping it or rather cutting it all down the outside of my left leg about a week ago, and three pieces put three dents in my steel helmet or “Easter bonnet” as I got it issued to me Easter Sunday, but did no further harm. The steel helmets are a God send as they ward off many a serious blow on the head which might cause a fatal wound. I had a dozen or more high explosive shells burst within fifteen and twenty feet of me and still escaped unhurt.
While I was in charge of a detachment of men on advance patrol I was on the same detachment duty for 10 weeks, and never lost a man of my patrol, but all have had some wonderful narrow escapes. It was a night patrol and sometimes had to prowl around with gas helmets on. You can imagine how interesting it was to us with gas masks on a dark night – worse than being out on the railroad on a dark night. I came off patrol two weeks ago, and believe me it is a big relief to get at something else, although we still see plenty of shells. They go whizzing over our camp at night and the nervous lads go running around chattering like magpies. I think you might just as well stay in your bed as try to run around dodging them in the dark. You are just as liable to run into one as not. I don’t like them, but I feel just as safe in bed as out although a tent don’t offer much protection from splinters of shell.
Had His Gracious Majesty King George around our part of the front yesterday along with the Commander-in-Chief of the British Forces here, Sir Douglas Haig. We are glad to see the advance guard of the American forces have arrived in France to help us along, and believe me, every little bit is welcome. Has the conscription bill finally passed at home yet? It seems to me to be the only fair way to get men as so many stand back and wait under the voluntary system, and let the other fellow do all the fighting, while they stay at home and enjoy all the comforts, while the other has to suffer the hardships incidental to war. They have had some terrible air raids in England. It seems horrible to think they slaughter the innocent women and children, but if they think that will stop our boys they are mistaken, as it makes them all the more determined to crush the cruel Hun. Things begin to look better on the Russian side again now.
I guess I will have to close for this time, but wish to thank the kind friends who have sent me papers and magazines, as papers are a luxury here. When I read them they are passed on to someone else. I met Sergt. Bill Walker a Sarnia man of the old 70th Batt. about a month ago, but he is a Sergt-Major now.
I remain as ever your friend,
Sergt. W.H. Chapman, 123017, A Company, 7th C.R.T., B.E.F., France.
P.S. How is your garden coming on? You said you had turned gardener. My wife says she has a lovely one this summer. Wish I was there to eat some of it.
Thomas Peacock, William Chapman’s friend in Sarnia, received a second letter from William in August 1917. It was dated ten days after the previous letter. The following is a portion of that letter:
Somewhere at the Front,
Sunday, July 15, 1917
Dear Friend,
Just a few lines to let you know that I am still here and still on top, although my previous injury to my back bothers considerable at times, but I am still hanging on. I received a letter a few days ago from Col. R.I. Towers, colonel of the old 70th, and wish he was in command of us now. He is at home at present for a short time.
Had a heavy rain last night filling up ditches and shell holes and holes in cross-country transport tracks with water and believe me, the continual stream of ammunition column teams soon turn wet clay into mud. Six horses are hitched to each ammunition wagon and when it comes wet and muddy, the reason for so much horse power is easily ascertained, for they have to drag the wagons through some awful holes, and it is simply astonishing the number of horses and mules it requires to handle things over and above the hundreds of thousand motor transports. We see some fine horses here and it is a common sight to see nice horses and mules lying dead along the road, killed by shell fire, as the poor horses get it just the same as men.
I used to think the war would end this summer, but the summer is going fast and still the end is not in sight. Hope it don’t go into the winter, as winter here is just harsh, you know. Canadian winters are much more comfortable….
I guess you will have conscription by the time this reaches you. I have been informed that myself and 5 or 6 other men have been mentioned by the commanding officer for coolness and bravery under shell fire. I had charge of an advance patrol continuously without relief for ten weeks and one night when the three N.C.O.’s in charge of an emergency repair crew brought their men in, took them and myself and repaired three large shell breaks in the line under continuous shrapnel and high explosive shell fire. Kept the men at work and finished the repairs and got the men back without a casualty. I did not like the job but ammunition had to be got up to the guns, and we could not let a battery be lost through lack of ammunition, so we have to do our duty.
I sent you a German steel shrapnel helmet. You can give the German water bottle that is inside to my wife. I thought you would like something from the front as a souvenir and hope it reaches you safely. I remain as ever your friend,
Sgt. W.H. Chapman, 123017
Two months after writing the above letter, on September 27, 1917, William Chapman would lose his life as a result of wounds received while fighting in Belgium. In October 1917, William’s wife, Bessie Violet Chapman living on Maria Street in Sarnia, would receive the following letter from the chaplain of the Battalion:
Mrs. W.H. Chapman, Sarnia, Ontario France, Oct. 6, 1917
Dear Madam,
You have no doubt already learned of the death of your husband, W.H. Chapman, of this battalion, and of the cause. On behalf of the commanding officer and all ranks of the battalion, I beg to offer you our most sincere sympathy. Your husband died at the post of duty. He came here knowing the danger, and he bravely made the noble sacrifice, the greatest any man can, for a good cause. Assuredly he will receive a splendid reward hereafter. Let this be your consolation in your bereavement. He was buried in a military cemetery attached to the hospital where he died, alongside so many others who have also laid down their lives at the call of duty. Assuring you once more of our sincerest sympathy.
Sincerely yours, J.R.O. Gorman, Chaplain
William Chapman would be officially listed as, Died of wounds (gunshot wound abdomen) at No. 61 Casualty Clearing Station. William left behind his wife Bessie and seven children. Forty-year old William Chapman is buried in Dozinghem Military Cemetery, Belgium, Grave V.F.7.
SOURCES: A, B, C, D, E, F, L, N, 2C, 2D, 2G