The son of a Merchant Navy Captain, Edwin Leopold Arthur Dyett was born on 7 October 1895. The family lived at Albany Road, Roath, Cardiff. After enlisting in the Royal Navy Voluntary Reserve, he was commissioned on 24 June 1915. Within eighteen months, he faced the ignominy of a Court Martial and execution.
Twenty-one years of age, he was totally inexperienced in combat and even confessed his uncertainty of leadership. He was initially held in immediate reserve on the front line. In common with other naval officers, he had requested a transfer back to the Naval Reserve. He felt his nerves and temperament were unsuited for trench warfare. In all likelihood, some senior officers resented him.
He first arrived in France and joined his battalion in May 1916. On 13 November, however, he was given indirect orders via Lieutenant Truscott in puzzling circumstances by a Lt-Commander who had little faith in his character and abilities. Dyett recalled it was only, "...after a lot of trouble", that Truscott disclosed his orders. They were instructed to join up with the battalion at a trench known as the "Green Line".
Some three hours later, and before reaching it, they met Sub-Lieutenant Herring, an unpopular officer, who was in charge of an ammunition dump and supply line. Acting Petty Officer Aimes was with him. It was a meeting with fatal consequences. Herring ordered Lieutenant Truscott to take charge of some stragglers and return them to the front line. He told Dyett to follow up behind.
There was a heated exchange between Dyett and Herring, who questioned his authority to give orders to a senior rank. Owing to the confusion of the situation, Dyett decided to return to his Brigade HQ for fresh orders. In the meantime, Truscott went off with about 45 men and reached the front line about an hour later.
The moment Herring returned to base, he made an official report that resulted in Dyett being arrested and subsequently accused of desertion in the face of the enemy. There is no evidence he anticipated these consequences.
Later, in evidence before the Court Martial, Herring denied there was any ill-feeling between him and Dyett. This was never challenged, but privately Dyett considered him "... his one and only enemy". He had previously caught Herring sneaking a woman into their training camp at Blanford, Dorset.
For 42 days, Dyett was held under close arrest spending his time censoring Company letters. One month into his arrest he wrote confidently to a friend. He had no wish to worry his parents about the situation and had told them nothing. He was certain the evidence against his was not strong enough to even, "...cause a sitting." Later, on Christmas Eve he wrote again explaining what had happened and imploring his friend not to worry. "Things are one-sided just now,” he remarked, "but as soon as I have my little say in the matter it will alter their colour altogether."
Less than 46 hours later, on Boxing Day and with barely half an hour to prepare his defence, he formally faced his accusers. He was charged on two counts. First, that he had deserted for two days between 14 and 15 November 1917 and second, was guilty of cowardice.
In a remarkable change of fortune, Dyett's defence that he was genuinely lost for about 24 hours when he reported to Lieutenant-Commander Egerton at Englebelmer took a nose-dive. And this despite the fact other witnesses could testify he was lost.
He was represented by Sub-Lieutenant Cecil Trevanion, a qualified solicitor, who did more harm than good. He might as well have been the prosecutor.
Eight witnesses gave evidence for the prosecution. The story that unfolded was that Dyett had received instructions via Truscott on 13 November to reach a trench called "Green Line". Before reaching it they met Herring when a dispute arose about him giving orders to more senior officers. By this time, it was getting dark, shelling was going on and men from mixed companies were retreating in fog and confusion. It was said that Dyett indicated he intended returning to Battalion HQ for fresh instructions.
Brigadier-General Lewis Francis Phillips had received information about Dyett. On 15 November, he sent for and questioned him. Not satisfied with his replies, he then placed him under arrest.
But the evidence of one witness may have proven vital. Acting Petty Officer Aimes, another unpopular individual, supported Herrings testimony word for word. It was as if they had practiced it beforehand.
He, however, went one step further when he said, "Accused did not look as if he was afraid or in a funk. He looked as if he wanted to get out of it." This was a remarkable statement, which was underscored in red in the court papers. It may have been the coup de grace that sealed Dyett's fate.
Tragically, it appears, he did not apply to give evidence himself, had no wish to call any witnesses and did not want to say anything in his defence.
The line of defence was that the accused officer had reported to Lieutenant-Commander Egerton on 14 November, but had showed great lack of initiative in failing to grasp the altered instructions. He was highly neurotic in temperament and felt unfit for his position as an officer and was astounded at the terrible state of chaos near the front line. His solicitor concluded there was no evidence of desertion. Under the court procedures, nothing in this statement could be tested for its veracity. It is a mystery beyond comprehension as to why Egerton and other witnesses were not called by the defence.
Concluding the case for the prosecution, the Judge Advocate stressed the accused had been absent between the 14 and 15 November. He went on to emphasize that the court should be satisfied as to his intention to desert his duty. If they concluded his actions resulted from a mistake or error of judgment that would not amount to intent.
With this, Dyett and his representative were excluded from the hearing as it went into closed session. They found him guilty of only the first charge of desertion.
They sentenced him to be shot at dawn, but recommended mercy owing to his youth, inexperience of operations and the confusing circumstances.
In what might be considered a Freudian slip, General H Gough recommended Dyett be executed on the basis, "If a private had behaved as he did in such circumstances, it is highly probable that he would be shot." Field Marshall Douglas Haig merely noted, "Confirmed" on the file.
In the meantime, Dyett knew nothing of this until the evening of 4 January 1917. At 7:45 pm he was interrupted whilst playing cards with two fellow officers. He was told of the Death Warrant. Within minutes a Padre joined him so he could make his peace with God. With no consideration of an appeal and only hours to live he wrote the following letter.
"Dearest Mother Mine, I hope by now you will have had the news. Dearest, I am leaving you now because He has willed it. My sorrow tonight is for the trouble I have caused you and dad. Please excuse any mistakes, but if it were not for the kind support of the Rev. W.C. --- who is with me tonight, I should not be able to write myself. I should like you to write to him, as he has been my friend. I am leaving all my effects to you, dearest; will you give a little --- half the sum you have of mine? Give dear Dad my love and wish him luck. I feel for you so much and I am sorry for bringing dishonour upon you all. Give --- my love. She will, I expect, understand - and give her back the presents, photos, cards, etc., she has sent me, poor girl. So now dearest Mother, I must close. May God bless and protect you all now and for evermore. Amen."
At 7:30 am on Friday 5 January 1917, Edwin Dyett was shot at St: Firmin, France. His body was then quickly removed to a cemetery a few miles away and quietly buried.
His father, Commander W.H.R Dyett, was devastated when this cruel news reached him. He began a campaign to clear his son's name, but failed to follow it through. All his correspondence with the War Office (now the Ministry of Defence) has vanished. Embittered and full of despair, he renounced his British citizenship and took his family to America to be lost to the fortunes of history.
Three important questions arise from this story. Did Dyett receive justice? Was he guilty of desertion and should he have been shot?
Ignoring the fact he had a cast iron defence, a card, which presumably he was advised by Trevanion not to play, was there evidence of an intention to desert an important duty over a two-day period? This Webmaster's view is that Dyett's action, predicated on inexperience, immaturity and confusion, show serious mistakes and errors of judgment. They are the very reasons the court used to argue clemency against execution, when in fact they should have been used with regard to their finding of guilt. In that respect the court failed.
Judge Babington, an acclaimed expert, was the first to gain access to the official records at the Public Record Office. He penetratingly observed that the courts hadn't the foggiest idea on how to sentence. He remarked, "... again and again they imposed the death sentence and illogically again and again they recommended mercy." In spite of the imperfections of the defence, it might be added they had little idea of how to evaluate evidence objectively and with a sense of justice. Throughout the war, higher legal military authority remained sullen, self-satisfied and silent.
Army regulations stipulated that Dyett should have been medically examined before trial. This was not done. Again, the court can be criticised for its enthusiastic expediency. Regulations also demand that he should have been served with a summary of evidence before the trial so that he could prepare to challenge his accusers. No such summary is on the file. If there was no summary on file, how could the Judge Advocate, whose job it was subsequently to check the legality of proceedings, deem that Dyett had received a fair trial?
And then there's the question of his status as a naval rather then army officer? Whilst he was subject to army regulations, he also came under the authority of the Admiralty. The Navy should have approved sanction of the death penalty. The Army did not consider this additional requirement, and had they have sought it; it would not have been given.
There's even a mystery regarding his death certificate that remains unexplained.
Dyett clearly did not receive justice, was not guilty of desertion and should not have been shot.
Let Leonard Sellers, the author of "For God's Sake Shoot Straight!” which recounts Dyett's execution, have the last word, "He was a victim of circumstances and timing: a pawn in the wider game of war; expendable, unworthy and tainted with failure; the last officer to die for lack of backbone and moral fibre in the annals of British military history, and a naval officer to boot."
To this day, his story continues to haunt the army establishment and is an unparalleled blemish on British legal military justice.
