Peplow, Albert Morrison (Edward): Service no. 53035

Source: 18th Battalion Nominal Roll, April 1915.

Find-A-Grave

Family Search: Albert Peplow was born on 17 September 1893, in County Longford, Ireland as the son of William F. Peplow. He had at least 1 son and 1 daughter with Rosemary Peplow. He lived in Guelph, Wellington, Ontario, Canada in 1914. He registered for military service in 1914. In 1914, at the age of 21, his occupation is listed as coremaker. He died on 30 May 1980, in New Britain, Hartford, Connecticut, United States, at the age of 86.

One Albert Peplow born in Longford in September 1895, to William and Margaret Peplow. He emigrated to Canada in 1908 at the age of 14 on the ship, “Sardinian”. Pte Peplow enlisted in Guelph, Ontario in October 1914, and more than likely served overseas.

[His father] William was likely a former member of the British Army, as his wife, Margaret was born in India; Albert’s older sister Mary J. was also born in Ireland, suggesting the family was stationed here for a proportion of the 1890s, as their younger brother, William was born in Woowich in c.1899. After his service William worked with the Royal Arsenal as a labourer.

Source

COULDN’T WAIT FOR U. S. TO GET INTO IT

Private Peplow Went Through Some Hard Fighting With Can- adians.

Although born in Buffalo, N. Y., where he lived as a boy, Private Albert Peplow, who has seen hard fighting since 1914 with the Eighth Scottish Canadian battalion, is well known in Hartford. He has visited this city several times and has evi-dently put some of his fighting spirit in his fighting. His latest let-ter to his brother, from which this has just been received at “The Courant” office, makes interesting reading. Among other stormy details he says:

“When the war began in 1915 I couldn’t wait for the U. S. to get into it, although I knew that Uncle Sam would wade in in February. I went to Canada and enlisted in the Eighteenth Canadian Battalion and went to a training camp in South Carolina. We were soon in the thick of the fighting and went through some of the hardest battles of the war. That first year at Ypres my company was practically wiped out. I got a piece of shrapnel in the leg and was sent to a hospital in England where I remained several months. My leg caused me great pain and it amused me now to remember how I tried to dig the shell out of my other wound.

When I got out of the hospital the fighting had moved back to the trenches and I studied to be a signalman and I am now in the signal section of the game. The only com-plaint I have to make about this war is that the tobacco over here is something awful.”