Known as "Smiler" to his friends, he volunteered for the British Army on the outbreak of the First World War in 1914 and served in the 9th Battalion of the Devonshire Regiment. For the first year of the War he was training in England, before landing at Le Havre on 28 July 1915 and being sent to trenches near Festubert. His first major offensive came on 25 September during the Battle of Loos. He was mentioned in despatches and awarded the Military Cross for holding a captured trench for 36 hours without reinforcements or supplies during the battle and he was subsequently promoted to lieutenant. Having returned to England after the Battle of Loos, he was positioned with his Battalion in the front line trenches at Fricourt in February 1916, before moving a kilometre or so to the trenches opposite the town of Mametz in April. The trench was named Mansell Copse, as it was in a group of trees. He was killed on the first day of the Battle of the Somme when attacking German trenches near Mametz. He was bombing officer for his battalion during the attack, and was killed by a machine gun positioned at a shrine whilst taking grenades to the men in the newly captured trenches. The bullet went through his neck, killing him instantly. His servant was found next to him after the offensive had ended. He is buried in Grave 3, Row 'A' at Devonshire Cemetery in Mansell Copse.
Writings
Although he had been writing poetry since at least 1913, he started publishing stories and poems in periodicals at the beginning of 1916, under the pen name Edward Melbourne. Hodgson's posthumous volume Verse and Prose in Peace and War, published in London by Murray in 1917, ran into three editions. He is probably best remembered today for his poem 'Before Action', which was published two days before he died. It is a commonly held belief that the poem was written with the premonition of his death, from his knowledge of the German machine gun positions; the last line is "Help me to die, O Lord".
"Before Action"
By all the glories of the day
And the cool evening's benison
By that last sunset touch that lay
Upon the hills when day was done,
By beauty lavishly outpoured
And blessings carelessly received,
By all the days that I have lived
Make me a soldier, Lord. By all of all man's hopes and fears
And all the wonders poets sing,
The laughter of unclouded years,
And every sad and lovely thing;
By the romantic ages stored
With high endeavour that was his,
By all his mad catastrophes
Make me a man, O Lord. I, that on my familiar hill
