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Son of Jenny Hay Brydon, of Richmond House, 36, Blessington Rd., Lewisham, London, and the late William Walter Brydon. Native of Whiteabbey, Belfast. On Rondebosch War Memorial in St. Paul's Anglican Churchyard. On Cape Town "Company Gardens" Artillery Memorial. A significant extract from John Buchan's accounts reflects just what an amazing human being Major Walter Brydon was "The stand on the 9th April 1918 checked the enemy for a time, and all batteries were able to take up less exposed positions. They suffered, however, from a continuous bombardment, and on the 12th April 1918 the heroic commander of the 73rd was killed by a shell. He had left the doctor's hands when a severe burst of German fire began, and had hurried forward to see to his guns. No officer in the British Army had a finer record for gallantry and devotion to duty. His Battery was known everywhere on the front as "Brydon's Battery," and he was beloved by is men, for his only thought was for them. During the 9th, though wounded himself, he helped to dress the other wounded, and when the men at the guns began to show signs of exhaustion, he himself dealt out rum to them. Finally he went through a downpour of shells to find a doctor and more dressings. It was one of the many ironies of the war that he never received the Victoria Cross, for he won it a dozen times. Let his epitaph be the words of a gunner in his Battery, who had served with' him only a few weeks, and who on the 9th April 1918 had his arms and legs shot away. Major Brydon stopped and asked if he could do anything for him. The dying man raised himself on his stumps. "By God, Brydon," he cried, "you are a man. I'm only good for the parson now, but I'm proud to die under you." |
