A few years ago when the town of Joe Batt’s Arm (etc.) decided to have an annual folk festival, it decided on Etheridge Point as the place to hold it. I suppose, because I grew up in Barr’d Islands, it was not unusual that I had never heard of that particular place. Nor had I ever heard of any Etheridge’s, since I was assuming that a family or two of people by that name must have lived there some years ago. Meanwhile, I’m thinking that there are even some Joe Batt’s ‘Armers’ who have never heard of Cooper’s Point in Barr’d Islands. In researching the name Etheridge, I found that the 1836 census for Joe Batt’s Arm listed one planter, William. In the census for 1935 there is one family of Etheridge’s listed, Peter, his wife Ellen, with six children listed. In the 1945 census there are no Etheridge’s listed for Joe Batt’s Arm. It appears that between 1936 and 1945 Peter died and his wife married a Peter Miller of Fogo, and her two youngest children, Vera and Leanne, are living with them.. Regardless, this piece is not to trace the Etheridge family that once occupied Etheridge’s Point in Joe Batt’s Arm, but rather to celebrate the record of Richard Etheridge of that particular family who paid the supreme sacrifice in World War I.

With World War raging in Europe, Richard at the age of 20 enlisted on March 22, 1915, "sincerely promising that he would bear true allegiance to His Majesty and would faithfully serve in any place where he might be needed." His attestation paper gave his height as 5ft, 9in. and that his weight was 131 pounds. Both his parents were dead and he gave as his nearest relative, Peter, a brother. He made an allotment of 40 cents per day from his pay for the benefit of his brother, Peter, who may have been the breadwinner for the rest of the family. His occupation was a fisherman, and he gave his wage at $40.00 a month. His regimental number was 1345. Initially he signed up for one year, but afterwards re-enlisted for the duration of the war.

On April 22, 1915 he embarked at St. John’s for overseas duty on the S.S. Stephano, for the United Kingdom. It is likely he spent around four months doing basic training in Scotland. On the 20th of August, 1915 he left the United Kingdom to join the British Expeditionary Force and arrived in Cairo, Egypt, on the 31st of August. From there on the 13th of September, he sailed for Gallipoli in Turkey. From there his battalion landed by night at Suvla Bay. While here, he contracted pyrexia and was invalided to England, and on the 11th of December, 1915 arrived at the Third London General Hospital, Wandsworth, suffering from enteric. A telegram to this effect was forwarded to his brother Peter at Joe Batt’s Arm, by J.R. Bennett, Colonial Secretary. Following his recovery he was granted brief furlough, and rejoined his battalion on the 17th February, 1917. On the 25th August, 1917 he was wounded, and again invalided to England and again admitted to Wandsworth Hospital in London. Later, he joined the British Expeditionary Force on the 9th of February, 1918. On the 28th of March, 1918, he was ‘missing in action’, having fought for three years and seven days.(“Missing in action was almost synonymous with ‘killed’ although it could have meant taken prisoner.

His conduct sheet is interesting, but one suspects typical of other young soldiers. It shows a number of offences such as missing from parades, blankets missing, and being drunk on several occasions. The punishment for each offence is listed, such as detention, losing pay, or simply being admonished. That was the punishment meted for his being drunk.

On September 1st, 1917, Mr. Peter Etheridge of Joe Batt’s Arm received the following telegram from John R. Bennett, Colonial Secretary:
Regret to inform you that Record Office, London, officially reports No. 1345, Private Richard Etheridge is at Wandsworth suffering from gunshot wound in the abdomen. Upon receipt of further information I shall immediately wire you, and trust that the next report will be of his convalescence.

On the 25th of April, 1918, Peter received the following telegram from J.R. Bennett, Acting Minister of Militia:
Regret to inform you that Record Office, London, officially reports that No. 1345, Private Richard Etheridge missing March 28th. Upon receipt of further information I shall immediately wire you.

On October 28th, 1918, Peter received this telegram from J.R. Bennett, Minister of Militia:
Regret to inform you that Record Office, London, officially reports that No. 1345, Private Richard Etheridge, previously reported missing March 28th, now presumed dead, October 24th. Upon receipt of further information, I shall immediately wire you.

When Private Richard Etheridge died in France he had to his account a little over five pounds (English money, which “consisted of the amount due from Pay and Record Office”. I am assuming that this may have been his last pay. It was distributed thus, with no explanation:
7.54 to Peter Etheridge of Joe Batt’s Arm
7.52 to Patrick Etheridge, Joe Batt’s Arm
7.52 to Mrs. Annie Head, Southside, Joe Batt’s Arm
7.52 to Mrs. Agnes Clare, Boyd’s Cove.
Peter and Patrick were brothers of Richard, and I am assuming that Annie and Agnes were his sisters.

In due course Peter Etheridge of Joe Batt’s Arm received his brother’s Army Book, and the 1914-1915 Star. On August 29, 1921 there is an acknowledgment that No 1345, which was the number of Private Etheridge, was the recipient of The Memorial Plaque. This was awarded to the next of kin of anyone killed in action in World War I.

Even though his death happened almost a hundred years ago now, it still seem so sad, but it still seems appropriate to remember him, a mere lad, who gave his life that we might have the freedom we enjoy today. One must wonder what his thoughts were when bombarded in the trenches by shell and mortar. Did he dream of ever again seeing the sun set over Gabby Island? Of seeing s blockade of northern ice in the spring in Joe Batt’s Arm? Of monstrous marauding ice-bergs in the summer? Of grabbing his trout-pole and going to his favourite pond? Of walking home the girl next door? Of seeing boatloads of cod-fish? Of ever having a meal of cod-tongues? Belatedly, perhaps, but nevertheless still appropriate, only a year or so ago his name has been engraved on a monument in Joe Batt’s Arm as one of those who paid the supreme sacrifice.

There are no Etheridges left on Fogo Island. The family has scattered hither and yon as far away as British Columbia. In researching for this piece I saw some mention that Joe Batt’s Arm was first settled in 1685 by a Brown and an Etheridge. There was no other information. The fact that the Brown’s on the North side and the Etheridge’s settled closest to the fishing grounds may have given rise to that speculation. Lowell’s 1871 Business Directory lists a Thomas E Etheridge as a fisherman in Joe Batt’s Arm. He could very well be the grandfather of Richard who was born around 1895. The RC cemetery at Joe Batt’s Arm has the graves of five other Etheridge’s; Mary Ellen who died on November 15, 1913 at the age of 28; Richard Etheridge who died on August 14, 1902 at the age of 55; Theresa Etheridge who died October 3, 1899 at the age of 48; Catherine Etheridge who died on January 17, 1901 at the age of 25; and Michael Etheridge who died on March 26, 1906 at the age of 19. I am assuming that the Mary Ellen mentioned above was the first wife of Peter the last of the Etheridge’s to live on Etheridge’s Point. The above information indicates that there were at least two Etheridge families living on Etheridge’s Point because in 1906 there were two Richard’s living there and they were not father and son. While writing this piece, I had a brief conversation with Leonne Etheridge Miller, wife of Skipper Paddy Miller who once lived on Etheridge Point. She filled me in on some of the information. I was intrigued to learn that her daughter, granddaughter of Peter was a Rhodes scholar and is a practicing lawyer in British Columbia.

I’ll end this with a stanza from “Flanders Fields”, written by Canadian physician Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae after witnessing the death of a friend :
We are the dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields