Here is the 11th in a series of podcasts that delve into the IWM’s Sound Archive to bring you the voices of those who lived through the First World War. Find out what a huge range of people felt, experienced and witnessed during 1914–1918, and the impact the events of those years had on their lives.

In this podcast, those who fought in the major naval battles from the outbreak of war in 1914 up until early 1915 describe what they witnessed. Listen to their memories of encounters between the British and German fleets in the North Sea, south Atlantic and Pacific ocean.

Podcast 11: War at sea

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One of our mess decks was flooded; the captain’s cabin was wrecked; the signalman’s arm was blown off in the foretop; holes were knocked in the coal bunkers and we were in a generally poor condition.

The start of construction of the Kiel Canal, Germany in 1887. During 1907-1914, it was enlarged to accommodate the bigger warships being built to rival those of the Royal Navy.

In 1914, the prosperity of Great Britain and its Empire depended on control of the world’s oceans. Since the start of the twentieth century, Britain and Germany had been locked in a bitter rivalry to build bigger and better warships.

At the outbreak of the First World War, many people expected the main confrontation between the countries would be fought quickly at sea. Louis West, who joined the Royal Navy in 1909, was one of them.

Well I think the general opinion was it couldn’t last more than three or four months, everybody was of that opinion. We said, ‘Well, when they come out we’ll have one ding dong battle and that’ll settle the war – hurry up the Germans and come out,’ that was our attitude. We thought we’d wipe the Germans out of course we did. No navy like the British navy, you know. We fully expected there to be a good ding dong battle – some of us wouldn’t come back and the others would – but it’d be all over in a few hours.

Joseph Vine joined the Royal Navy in 1912

Members of the German High Seas Fleet were just as ready for a fight. Lieutenant Commander Dehn described the German navy’s attitude.

The firm knowledge that the British fleet was vastly superior to the German fleet didn’t affect our morale at all. On the contrary, everybody from the admiral down to the youngest stoker was anxious to show what he’d learnt and everybody was agreed that the fleet as a whole and every unit in it would give a very good account of themselves when the day would come and they would be called upon to do so.

Joseph Vine, who served in HMS Vanguard, remembered the change from peacetime to a state of war.

We didn’t do any ship work at all, no washing decks or anything, none of that old business, paintwork or anything. You were at your battle stations right up until Christmas, that’s all it was – it was war. And we used to be out for about ten days steaming, patrolling, then we’d come in at daybreak at Scapa Flow harbour. All the fleet come in no sooner you’d dropped anchor than the collier would slide up alongside with about 2,000 ton of coal aboard for you.

Blackmore’s ship, the battlecruiser HMS New Zealand, steaming into action at the Heligoland Bight

The first major naval action of the war took place on 28 August 1914, in the Heligoland Bight off the north German coast. A Blackmore, who served as a range finder aboard HMS New Zealand, took part in the battle, which resulted in a British victory.

We steamed in towards Heligoland in a thick fog and mist. When we got in there, a bit of confusion started because we picked out each ship that was allotted to us and ours was the Koln. We immediately opened fire as soon as we got her in our sights and that was about six or seven thousand yards and continuous fire carried on. During this action I saw what I thought was something for me marked to my name – a shell coming over, a huge shell. I could see through my range finder that it was directed straight to us and watched it and as it come it just cleared the top where I was sitting. I just clutched my seat and shut my eyes and it passed underneath, just cleared the bridge and exploded in the water just the other side of us – a big, black, round cloud.

On 1 November, off Coronel on the coast of Chile in the southern Pacific, the Royal Navy suffered its worst defeat in over a century. S Pawley was an officer in HMS Glasgow – which, although damaged, managed to survive the battle.

We formed into battle line ahead with the Otranto on our port side at some distance and steamed north. It was not very long before smoke appeared on the horizon and we soon discovered this smoke came from two German heavy cruisers. And we were able to recognise Scharnhorst and Gneisenau. We were not long in closing on the enemy and soon the battle commenced. The Good Hope opened fire, a ranging shot, which fell short and then the battle became general. I was standing on the upper deck at the time; the sea was very rough under a leaden sky. At times the waves came clean overboard, came clean in over. We were hit in several places. One of our mess decks was flooded; the captain’s cabin was wrecked; the signalman’s arm was blown off in the foretop; holes were knocked in the coal bunkers and we were in a generally poor condition.

HMS Good Hope, sunk at the Battle of Coronel

Two British armoured cruisers – the Good Hope and the Monmouth – were sunk by a superior German force, led by Admiral von Spee. A Bushkin witnessed the loss of the Monmouth from aboard HMS Otranto.

The Good Hope, a shell must have hit the magazine – she blew up. The Monmouth soon afterwards also blew up. Just before that, their guns – although they were sinking – their guns were firing and those men were carrying out their action stations right until the very last. There’s a darkening sky; there’s a leaden sea; the weather is getting gradually worse. And we were steaming south getting away out of it, our thoughts mixed, very mixed. Cursing because we couldn’t get to our pals to help them; glad to get away out of it. What could we do? Nothing, just nothing.

One of the 1,600 British sailors who died in the Battle of Coronel was the brother of newly enlisted soldier, Joseph Murray. He remembered how this news affected him.

My brother Tom was a reservist and he was on special reserve which meant that he did a month’s training every year instead of a week. Now on the 1st of November they were sank off Coronel which is on the other side of America. Now up until then I was very patriotic, and after getting to know that I was out for blood! And I swore blind that I’d kill every so and so that I could – and I did! I was out for revenge. So patriotism turned to hate.

Edward Pullen, who took part in the Battle of the Falkland Islands

The British fleet was also out for revenge. Admiral Sturdee was sent to the south Atlantic with fresh ships to destroy the German squadron.

Edward Pullen, of HMS Glasgow, described what happened when the two forces encountered one another off the Falkland Islands.

All at once Sturdee said, ‘I’m coming out now’ – come out in an ‘S’ shape, out of Port Stanley – ‘make a smoke screen’. Well, we did as much as we could but the smokescreen didn’t last long and all at once the Germans lined up ready for battle. And when they saw these tripods, our battle cruisers then had tripods, you know three masts, they started to go – you could see the smoke coming out of their funnels to get plenty of speed up. Battle started now with the Leipzig and it went on from 1 o’clock til 9 o’clock that night and during the battle a signalman came running along with the news, Sturdee’s sent news to say to my captain: ‘I have sunk the two big ships, where are you?’ My captain said, ‘I don’t know where I am!’  He was in the conning tower, excited. Well that battle went on until the Leipzig was all on fire at 9 o’clock.

Four German warships were lost during the battle. British engineer E Amis’s ship, HMS Kent, sank the Nuremberg.

She was on fire for’ard and aft and some of them were jumping into the water on bits of wreckage so as to try and get to us. But the seas were icy cold and the sea was not calm then, it was a choppy sea with a rising mist and spray and just choppy billows – they had a pretty rough time in the water. We tried to save some, we hauled some aboard but they were too numb – they eventually died and we simply put them back into the drink again because there was no time for any ceremony.

Photograph taken from HMS Invincible showing HMS Inflexible standing by to pick up survivors from SMS Gneisenau

Bert Stevens, leading stoker in HMS Inflexible, also recalled how British attempts to rescue German sailors from their sinking ships were thwarted.

We never picked no survivors up off the Scharnhorst but we picked survivors up off the Gneisenau. And when she was sinking she was going down at the bows and she was over on the port side as well. And what happened was she had some wounded on her aft and she also had wounded down below, she’d stood a lot of bashing you see – and when we all got on the upper deck, Phillimore [commander of the Inflexible] said, ‘Try and save as many as you can off this boat.’ Well what happened was, we don’t know who it was, but there was someone on that ship ordered them to fire again and she fired another three rounds at us. Phillimore said, ‘Alright we’ll have to give them some more.’

Even if they were not taking part in these major battles, British sailors faced the constant threat of German submarines. James Cox remembered how much anxiety they caused.

Everybody was on the alert the first months of the war which began to get tedious after a time, every little bottle that showed, the alert went and the searchlights and that were switched on and you know we was all on tenterhooks. I was on searchlight cos that was my work and I was stationed by a searchlight at night, every night, and a gun or torpedo during the day. Well now, that’s how we kept our watches for weeks on end.

HMS Pathfinder, torpedoed by German U-boat U-21 in the Firth of Forth on 5 September 1914. IWM ART 5721

They were right to be vigilant. William Halter, who served aboard submarine D4, had a near miss at Heligoland.

I happened to be on the bridge all by myself – the captain had gone down for a cup of something – and I was watching and I was petrified. I saw a torpedo come up out of the water, jump out the water and naturally I rang the alarm bell and the captain came running up. I said, ‘We’ve just had a torpedo fired at us, sir.’ He said, ‘Right down below.’

We went down below, crash dived, and he questioned me about it when we were down below and he said, ‘I ought not to have left you alone,’ he said, ‘you’ve got nerves.’ He said, ‘You never saw any torpedo.’ I said, ‘But I did, sir.’ ‘Oh no,’ he said, ‘I don’t believe you – it doesn’t sound right to me.’ Anyhow we finished the trip and we came back and I had to go up before the torpedo officer on the Maidstone. And he questioned me about that torpedo and he turned round to the captain and he said, ‘That’s right,’ he said, ‘that was a German torpedo.’ And it was correct and I was believed then.

On 24 January 1915, a British force led by Admiral Beatty intercepted a German squadron at the Dogger Bank in the North Sea. British officer John Ouvry of HMS Tiger described the action that followed.

My action station was a very good one – it was in the conning tower, actually I was messenger to the captain who was in the conning tower in charge of the whole ship, of course. We actually got into contact with the German battlecruisers just after 9. The captain was in the conning tower and I was outside looking out for submarines. At about 9.20 we sighted the Germans and they opened fire on us, and we on them. And I remember our first salvo – mind you I was outside the conning tower – blew my hat off! And then to my relief the captain sent a messenger to say come inside the conning tower now.

SMS Blücher capsizing during the battle of Dogger Bank

In a confused encounter, the British managed to lose none of their ships – although Beatty’s flagship, HMS Lion, was badly damaged. However, the German armoured cruiser SMS Blücher was destroyed – witnessed by Ouvry.

We had turned to port to cut off the Blücher, the Tiger leading the three ships. And we blasted away at poor Blücher which had stopped and we fired two torpedoes at her at point blank range and I saw one hit. I saw the foremost turret blow up and the mast come down, she’d stopped and was listing. We then turned away back home leaving Blücher sinking and she actually sank within view.

Naval warfare was brutal and terrifying. Teenager Alfred Fright joined the navy as a boy in 1913, and clearly recalled his fear of going into battle just a year later.

Whilst you was waiting for it you was absolutely dead scared, dead scared. But once it started it was fine and you seemed to lose it all. But up until that point, as I say, you was dead scared. And I know I’ve stood on the bridge sometimes and cried with being scared. And also I’ve stood on the bridge – cos we used to have to do lookouts, you see, that was our job mostly, boys. Course the ship sways that much you go three times that much up at the top mast head you see. And I’ve stood up there with these glasses to my eyes, froze to death and crying. That’s the sort of life it was in them days.

To find out about First World War Centenary news, projects and more go to 1914.org.

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Listen out for the next podcast in March.

Four air mechanics of the WRAF working on the fuselage of an Avro 504, early 1919

Former member of the Women’s Royal Air Force (WRAF), Florence Green, has died aged 110. She was the last known veteran of the First World War.

Florence joined the service, aged 17, in September 1918 – just two months before the end of the war.

She worked as an officer’s mess steward at Narborough Airfield and RAF Marham, both in Norfolk, until July 1919.

She said recently of her wartime experiences that she worked ‘all hours’ serving officers their meals.

But, she revealed, she also enjoyed her time socializing with pilots and other staff at the airfields.

Despite being a member of the WRAF, Florence remembered that she resisted an offer to go for a flight in one of the aircraft – as she was scared of flying.

Read more about how Florence’s wartime service came to light in this BBC item from 2010.

Visit the First World War Official Photographs site.

Visit the University of Glasgow’s First World War pages.

Visit the La Boisselle Study Group site.

Read Dorothy’s letters on the Red Cross site.

Visit the Focus on Isaac Rosenberg site.

Visit the Western Front Photography site.

Eddie Redmayne as First World War officer Stephen Wraysford

Two of the actors in the new BBC adaptation of Sebastian Faulks’ First World War-set novel, Birdsong, went into one of the real tunnels beneath the Somme as part of their research.

Eddie Redmayne, who plays Stephen Wraysford, and Joseph Mawle, who portrays Jack Firebrace, were given a tour of La Boisselle, which is at the heart of the Somme.

Their expert guide was Peter Barton, a member of an ongoing archaeological project at the site.

La Boisselle was the scene of intense fighting in 1916 and has remained largely untouched from the end of the war until its excavation last summer.

The tunnel that the two members of the Birdsong cast explored – known as the 1915 X Incline – was particularly important for them to see. Much of the wartime action of the novel, and TV adaptation, takes place in one of the claustrophobic and highly dangerous tunnels underneath no man’s land.

Tunnels were dug by both sides during the war, principally to place high explosive mines beneath the other’s trenches. It was perilous work; those constructing them were at constant risk of discovery.

Eddie and Joseph descended 30 feet into the chalk-lined tunnel, and were able to view an incredible remnant of one of those who had built it. Written in pencil at one place on the wall is a short poem;       If in this place you are detained, Don’t look around you all in vain, But cast your net and you shall find, That every cloud is silver lined… Still.

On having read these words, Eddie said, ‘I was so moved by the personal message the unknown soldier wanted to convey that I copied the poem down and kept it.’

View photos and footage of the Birdsong actors’ visit on the La Boisselle Study Group’s website.

Damage to buildings in King's Lynn caused by the first airship raid on 19 January 1915

On 19 January 1915, the first airship raid on Britain took place. The towns of King’s Lynn and Great Yarmouth in Norfolk were attacked by two German Zeppelins. Several people were killed and buildings were destroyed.

In Great Yarmouth, Samuel Smith, aged 53, and Martha Taylor, 72, were some of the first British victims of aerial bombardment.

They were killed by bombs dropped by the airship L3 at around 8.30 pm.

Both of them have now been remembered on a new memorial that has been unveiled in the coastal town.

A blue plaque bearing their names was recently unveiled by the town’s mayor at St Peter’s Plain – the site where both the residents lost their lives. The ceremony was attended by Martha Taylor’s great niece.

The events of the air raid were researched by The Great Yarmouth Local History and Archaeological Society, which also organised the plaque.

It is not certain whether the Norfolk towns were the intended targets of the raid. It has been suggested that the pilot of L33 believed he was over the north east of England when he ordered the attack. Others think Great Yarmouth’s harbour was bombed for strategic reasons.

The 19 January raid marked the start of over 50 attacks by German airships on Britain, which killed more than 500 people and caused injury to many more.

Learn more about air raids in the First World War on the IWM site.

Here is the tenth in a series of podcasts that delve into the IWM’s Sound Archive to bring you the voices of those who lived through the First World War. Find out what a huge range of people felt, experienced and witnessed during 1914–1918, and the impact the events of those years had on their lives.

During the cold winter months of 1914-15, soldiers stationed on the Western Front sought shelter in the newly-built trenches that became so characteristic of the First World War. But these defence systems could not offer complete protection for front-line troops. Freezing cold weather, rain and mud made life in the trenches far from comfortable – and enemy artillery and snipers were a constant threat.

Podcast 10: ‘War in winter’

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It was necessary to have some spirit, because we knew that above the trench, just above, it was death…

As mobile warfare came to an end in 1914, both the Allied and German armies built trenches as a means of defence. They were much simpler than those that existed later in the war. British private Marmaduke Walkinton described one.

When one first went in, it was quite a deep trench so that you could walk about in it without your head showing about to be shot at. And when you wanted to shoot there was what we call a firestep, which was just a bit that hadn’t been dug quite so deep so that you stepped up about a couple of feet or so and then you could see to shoot over.

A sergeant of the 1st Battalion, Royal Scots using a trench periscope to observe German trenches near Kemmel in January 1915

The conditions of the trenches varied. British NCO James Pratt was stationed near Kemmel in Belgium in early 1915.

Those first trenches we had I think had been French – that area had been French trenches. And of course the French were a little bit casual because the back area was generally a sort of latrine – they used it as a latrine – and also they had been very casual in burying their dead. In fact one trench I had, I had a boot showing out of the side of the trench and on investigating I found there was a Frenchman attached to the boot…

For J Reid, an NCO in the 6th Gordon Highlanders, life in the trenches was exhausting.

The routine then was that we were in the front line for four days, and then we were relieved after four days. But the four days we were out we were up every night! And you were up to your stomach in water; sitting in a trench to your stomach in water, and your rifles was getting plugged up with mud. Of course the Germans were just the same as us you see, we knew that. They were just the same as us.

Men of the 11th Hussars in the trenches at Zillebeke during the winter of 1914-1915

But in some cases the German trenches were already better than the British – as officer Peter Jackson found out during the Christmas Truce of December 1914.

I went inside the German trenches down to the German officers’ dugout. I’d never seen anything so fantastic in my life as the German dugouts. Ours, we simply had no dugouts they were just mud and filth. But the Germans’ dugouts were about 20 feet deep and they had electric light in there, they had everything! I noticed their trenches were covered with slats so they could prevent themselves getting muddied up. Our men when they came out were smothered up from head to foot in mud. The German officers when they came out their boots must have been polished by their batsmen til they shone as if they were going on parade.

Living in the open left soldiers vulnerable to the freezing winter weather, as British private Henry Williamson recalled.

When the frosts came we could walk about on the hard ground and we could also sleep. But our boots froze while we were sleeping – it was painful. So some of us would walk about at night and swing the arms to keep warm. And the overcoats, the greatcoats, of course were frozen and the yellow clay that was on them was frozen too, very hard to get it off, it was a great weight. Being stiff as boards, we just hacked the skirt off about two feet up the skirt with bayonets and walked about in short coats.

Colonel Philip Robertson, 1st Battalion, Cameronians (Scottish Rifles) in waterlogged trenches at Bois Grenier in January 1915

As well as the cold, the troops had to live with mud and rain. British private Charles Colthup was posted to France in January 1915.

Plenty of mud and water, and we had no gum boots at that time. I mean your boots were good and of course you had puttees, you see, went up your legs to your knees. We came across some French soldiers, I don’t know what they were doing up there I don’t think they were far away, but they had thick felt boots and a kind of rubber outside. I thought to myself, ‘I wouldn’t mind a pair of them.’

Living in the cold and wet led many soldiers to get trench foot. George Ashurst described recovering from this painful condition in a Belgian hospital.

A doctor used to come round in the morning and just feel at your toes, you know, feel at your feet. And he’d say, ‘How are you this morning?’ ‘Oh not so bad, sir.’ And all the time he’d a needle, and we didn’t know that for quite a while. He had a needle and he was shoving it in your toes. Well, you never moved. You didn’t feel it you see. The doctor knew when you jumped; he knew that your feet were getting right. When he pricked them with his needle and you jumped he knew life was there again. Then, ooh, painful, terrible. If you just caught your toes then it’d make you scream. We used to have to go to the toilets on our hands and knees, I tell you. A nurse didn’t help us or anything. And I’d be going down this aisle, you know, and a fellow’d be coming back on his hands and knees. And when we got together we’d [barks] have a bit of a dog fight. Nurses used to laugh at us!

Officers of 1/6th Battalion, South Staffordshire Regiment in No.38 Trench, Hill 60, near Ypres, March 1915

The trenches only offered so much protection against enemy fire – as British private A Cochrane witnessed.

On my second visit to the trenches in the morning there was what they used to call the pom-pom, a German gun they used to bring up to their trenches with a view to popping them into our trenches. It used to go ‘pom’ from their side and arrive into ours with a ‘pom’. Well they used to enfilade us starting on the left hand side and coming along, and on this particular morning one reached right to the side of me and the fellow on sentry go there just watching the no man’s land to see there was no movement by the Germans. And this shell from the pom-pom arrived and blew half his head off. Well that was my initiation into death which was very unpleasant and disturbed me quite considerably.

Soldiers were also at risk from enemy snipers. Canadian private George Hancox’s regiment sought a solution to this deadly danger.

Main casualties during the first tours in the line were caused by enemy snipers. And it was realised that something would have to be done about that and a sniping section was formed in our regiment. These were almost entirely men who’d been big game hunters and were crack shots with rifles, they were used to stalking and if they had any kind of a target at all they’d be sure to hit it. They picked out spots where they would get good observation on the enemy lines and would watch, say, a weak point in the parapet where it was shallow, and as soon as a German went by they would let him have it. It’s very hard to say how many they got but I think they paid the Germans quite well for any of our men that they shot.

French infantry manning a forward line of trenches in Lorraine, January 1915.

Larger attacks soon began again. French infantry officer G Fenetrier remembered what happened when soldiers were ordered to leave their trenches.

The attack was like this. Always early in the morning, we received an order to get up and we had to drink a good glass of coffee with rum. It was necessary to have some spirit, because we knew that above the trench, just above, it was death – death by the bullets; by the bombs; by all the things which were waiting for us.

A number of larger attacks took place in the early months of 1915. German artillery officer Herbert Sulzbach fought in one such battle.

Well the Battle of Champagne started about the middle of February and lasted for nearly four weeks. The Allied armies, in this case the French armies, threw wave after wave of soldiers towards our lines and we fired shells absolutely day and night. For part of the time we were in amongst our guns and then we were ordered to go to observation and it was one of the most unpleasant jobs to get from the battery to the infantry lines because this, lets say 2 km between the artillery lines and the infantry lines were under fire day and night. So we crawled and we threw ourselves into the grass, or into a trench and then we arrived at the front and there we seemed to be rather safe.

Damage to several buildings in Neuve Chapelle, after its capture by 8th Division in March 1915

For British troops, like Walter Becklade, the Battle of Neuve Chappelle in March 1915 marked the start of a new year of fighting.

Eventually we had to go over the top and we went on so far but we didn’t meet the enemy because they’d gone on too far and we were called away on our left to occupy another trench. And this was about dinner time – or dinner time as we thought it would be, we were beginning to get hungry – and I thought we’d have some bully beef. So I got the tin opener in my hand all ready to open this tin of beef when a shell burst and I felt a terrific bang on my right arm which caused me to drop the tin opener in the mud; I never found it again. I realised – I didn’t realise at the time actually that I was wounded until the blood started coming down and running off the end of my hand.

To find out more about First World War Centenary news, events and more go to 1914.org.

We’d really like to know what you think of these podcasts. Please rate us on iTunes or leave a comment at 1914.org. Listen out for Podcast 11: War at sea.

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A pack horse is led through the mud near Beaumont Hamel, November 1916

The big-screen adaptation of Michael Morpurgo’s First World War-set children’s book, War Horse, has attracted mass media interest following its recent release.

Although a work of fiction, behind the Hollywood hype lie aspects of the realities of the First World War.

The Steven Spielberg epic tells how a farm horse named Joey and his owner, Albert, are both caught up in war.

Albert enlists in the British Army and fights on the Western Front, while Joey is put to work there too, firstly in a cavalry charge and later by drawing an ambulance.

In reality, millions of horses were used by all combatant nations during the First World War. They transported men and equipment, pulled vehicles and guns, and went into battle.

The casualty rates were very high – around a million British horses went to war between 1914 and 1918 and just 65,000 came back. The animals died from exhaustion, disease, shelling, bullets and poison gas attacks.

British author Michael Morpurgo based his book on the reminiscences of three real-life veterans of the First World War. Albert Weeks, Wilfrid Ellis and Arthur Budgett lived in the same Devonshire village that was home to the writer. They related to him their experiences of war, in particular their relationships with the horses that served with them.

Here is the ninth in a series of podcasts that delve into the IWM’s Sound Archive to bring you the voices of those who lived through the First World War. Find out what a huge range of people felt, experienced and witnessed during 1914–1918, and the impact the events of those years had on their lives.

The Christmas Truce of 1914 has become almost legendary over time, with stories of German and British soldiers putting down their arms to play football in no man’s land. But what really happened? Find out from those who witnessed this incredible – and unexpected – piece of history.

Podcast 9: ‘The Christmas Truce’

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Transcript

Two of my section came dashing into the billet during the morning and said, ‘What do you know, the Jerries are out on the top; they’re walking about, they’re dishing out drinks and cigarettes – there’s no fighting going on!’

At Christmas 1914, an event occurred that was not repeated again during the First World War. An unofficial, spontaneous truce took place along some parts of the Western Front. It often started with a ceasefire as Christmas Day approached. German Army officer Walther Stennes recalled how, initially, this caused some concern.

On Christmas Eve at noon, fire ceased completely – on both fronts. Of course it was unusual that the opposite side also ceased fire. Then my officer controlling the sentries came in and said ‘Do you expect a surprise attack? Because it’s very unusual the situation.’ I said, ‘No I don’t think so. But anyhow everyone is awake, no one is sleeping and the sentries are still on duty. So I think it’s alright.’

German soldiers of the 134th Saxon Regiment with men of the Royal Warwickshire Regiment in no man's land, Christmas 1914

British private Marmaduke Walkinton explained how the close proximity of the enemy led to increased communication between the two sides.

We were in the front line; we were about 300 yards from the Germans. And we had, I think on Christmas Eve, we’d been singing carols and this that and the other, and the Germans had been doing the same. And we’d been shouting to each other, sometimes rude remarks more often just joking remarks. Anyway, eventually a German said, ‘Tomorrow you no shoot, we no shoot.’  And the morning came and we didn’t shoot and they didn’t shoot. So then we began to pop our heads over the side and jump down quickly in case they shot but they didn’t shoot. And then we saw a German standing up, waving his arms and we didn’t shoot and so on, and so it gradually grew.

For Colin Wilson of the Grenadier Guards, the truce also started with carols. This was then followed by an invitation from the German troops opposite.

We heard a German singing Holy Night of course in German, naturally. Then after he’d finished singing there were all sorts of Christmas greetings being shouted across no man’s land at us. These Germans shouted out, ‘What about you singing Holy Night?’ Well we had a go but of course we weren’t very good at that. Anyway they said, ‘Meet us and come over in no man’s land.’ Well after a time we were allowed – a limited number of us – our officers allowed a limited number of us to go into no man’s land.

British troops from the Northumberland Hussars meet German soldiers in no man's land

The attempts at fraternisation by German soldiers did not always meet with success. Clifford Lane remembered how he and his battalion, the 1st Hertfordshire Regiment, ignored such overtures.

Later on in the night there was a great deal of commotion going on in the German front line which was about 100, 150 yards away I suppose. And after a few moments there were lighted objects raised above the German parapet looking like Chinese lanterns to us. The Germans were shouting over to our trench, there’s no doubt about that at all, and before we could take any action or do anything we were ordered to open rapid fire you see. Which we did. The Germans did not reply to our rapid fire they simply carried on with their celebrations, ignored us completely and were having a very fine time indeed. We never did anything else but simply continue in our wet trenches trying to make the most of a bad job.

On Christmas Day, Allied and German troops met in no man’s land. German artillery officer Mr Rickner described celebrating with French soldiers.

I remember very well Christmas, I remember the Christmas Day when the German and the French soldiers left their trenches, went to the barbed wire between them with champagne and cigarettes in their hands and had feelings of fraternisation and shouted they wanted to finish the war and that lasted only 2 days 1 and a half really and then strict order came that no fraternisation was allowed and we had to stay back in our trenches.

A snapshot taken by a British officer showing German and British troops fraternising on the Western Front during the Christmas Truce of 1914

The 6th Gordon Highlanders also took part in the truce, J Reid among them.

When we were on the line at Sailly, Christmas 1914, there was a bit of a truce there you know and the Germans stopped firing, we stopped firing. And we came out of the line and they came out of the line. And we were swapping tins of bully for their tins of meat and the padre was out having a talk with them, they were burying any dead that was there and we were burying any dead – this carried on for about a couple of days.

When the two sides met, they often exchanged gifts and souvenirs. George Jameson recalled what his men returned with.

Keith and Philip Ridley, two of my section, came dashing into the billet during the morning and said, ‘What do you know, the Jerries are out on the top; they’re walking about, they’re dishing out drinks and cigarettes – there’s no fighting going on!’ Well we’d noticed the place was very quiet. I said I don’t believe it. I said well I can’t go I’m duty bloke for the morning but hop off and see what you can find. So Keith and Philip and Lesley Wood went off and they arrived back around about lunchtime, Keith with one of the Landwehr hats on – the grey thing with the red band round the button – Philip had a water bottle. They’d had drinks, they’d had smokes and they’d been walking about.  He said, ‘You just wouldn’t believe it!’

German bierstein presented to the captain of a winning British team after a football match during the Christmas Truce

One of the most famous aspects of the truce legend is that German and British soldiers played football in no man’s land. Peter Jackson initiated one match in his section.

After a short while somebody punted across a football. The ball landed amongst the Germans and they immediately kicked it back at our men. And after a while of milling around with a football it seemed to me that there would be another free fight beginning so I spoke to the German officer and I suggested that we had a football match. And it was a melee. It wasn’t a question of 10 aside, it was a question of 70 Germans against 50 Englishmen. And they were kicking the ball backwards and forwards to the trenches, to the barbed wire for quite half an hour until unfortunately the ball got impaled on one of the stakes of the barbed wire and was deflated. And that put an end to the football match.

British soldiers who took part in the truce often remembered their conversations with the Germans. Archibald Stanley enjoyed speaking to them.

I tell you what happened on Christmas Day 1914, and people don’t believe it. We had this unofficial truce. We met in no man’s land on Christmas Day 1914. We shook hands – they were Saxons – and I heard one fellow talking English. I said to him, ‘You speak English?’ You know what he said? ‘Cor blimey mate,’ he said, ‘I was in a London hotel when the war broke out!’ I thought that topped it. He’d got the London accent…

Letter from 'Cuthbert' written to his grandmother, 1 January 1915, giving a first hand account of the 1914 Christmas Truce

Others had more serious exchanges, such as Henry Williamson of the London Regiment.

I talked to an officer the next day – because the truce went on for several days – and he said, ‘You know, we could not have gone on in the First Battle of Ypres because you had so many reserves in your woods and so many automatischer pistol.’ I said, ‘Were your machine guns gone, all knocked out?’ He said, ‘Oh no, automatischer pistol’ – it was our 15 rounds rapid. We also learned that many of the German mass attacks were made by boys, German students of 16/17, arm in arm with one rifle among three.

The high commands on both sides ordered an end to the truce when they heard of it. George Ashurst described how unpopular this made them.

We got orders come down the trench, ‘Get back in your trenches every man,’ by word of mouth down each trench; ‘Everybody back in your trenches,’ shouting. The generals behind must’ve seen it and got a bit suspicious so what they did, they gave orders for a battery of guns behind us to fire, and a machine gun to open out and officers to fire their revolvers at the Jerries. ‘Course that started the war again. Ooh we were cursing them to hell, cursing the generals and that, you want to get up here in this stuff never mind your giving orders, in your big chateaux and driving about in your big cars. We hated the sight of the bloody generals.

British and German officers meeting in no man's land during the unofficial truce

The legend that built up around the truce over the years made some sceptical about it, including Harold Lewis of the Royal Field Artillery, stationed in Britain at Christmas 1914.

Although it would be arrogant to say that the thing didn’t actually take place, I very much doubt whether anything of the nature or magnitude that have been claimed for it took place at all. And particularly because the two armies concerned, the German with that rigid discipline and our own with the finest discipline of a fighting force there was, are not likely to break that tradition. And if anybody tried, what were the NCOs doing? What were the officers doing? I think the whole thing borders on the fairytale and may be classed with the Russians with snow on their boots and the Angels of Mons.

Although the truce faded out after Boxing Day, on New Year’s Eve H. Williams of the London Regiment encountered one German soldier still unwilling to return to a state of war.

This runner came along when I was on this fatigue job and said, ‘You’re wanted again to interpret.’ I said, ‘What is it this time?’ He said, ‘There’s a drunk German in our trenches and he won’t go back!’ So I went up and saw our platoon officer there and he said, ‘Williams, there’s this chap here, he’s drunk. I don’t mind it’s all very well to meet them in no man’s land, but he’s actually in our trenches.’ Anyway this chap was standing there with a couple of bottles of beer wanting us to drink the health of the New Year and all the rest of it. He said, ‘Tell him he’s got to go back.’ So I told him. He wouldn’t take any notice he didn’t want to go back. And this officer said, ‘Well if he stops here, he’s got to be made prisoner, ask him if he wants to be made prisoner!’ So I did. ‘Oh, was, Gott nein!’ he said. He understood that, but he wouldn’t go back. Eventually, the officer detailed another chap and me to take him back, so he was escorted there – one on each side and this chap staggering about and singing at the top of his voice. Well we got up to the German wire and I thought, ‘Well I don’t think I’ll go right into their trenches, they might not be as lenient as we are.’ Anyway we found a gap in the wire, headed him in the right direction and left him to it!

Voice of the First World War will continue throughout 2012.

Please keep listening, and Happy New Year.

Company Sergeant Major Tom Stratford and his wife Alice on their wedding day, 1917. He features as a case study in the course.

Family history research has seen a huge increase in recent years, fuelled by popular TV programmes such as the BBC’s Who Do You Think You Are?, and numerous websites that give access to census records and other official documents.

But for many people wanting to discover their past, it can seem daunting to know where to begin. Luckily, the IWM and Pearson Love to Learn have created an interactive online course that will make everything clear.

The course teaches you where records are and how to search them, with expert advice given on how to compile your family tree.

It also includes detailed information, provided by IWM, which helps you locate and interpret military records online – building up an accurate picture of those who served in the British Army during the First World War.

If you’d like to start researching your family history with this online course, click here for all the details on how to do so.

A 1918 portrait of Lawrence, by James McBey. He is shown wearing an agal headdress – one of which is being auctioned alongside the knife.

A rusted pocketknife that belonged to the legendary Lawrence of Arabia is to go under the hammer next week.

Found in the grounds of Lawrence’s Dorset home, Clouds Hill, the nineteenth century implement has the initials ‘T.E.L.’ – for Thomas Edward Lawrence – burned into the handle, like many of his other possessions.

The knife was initially discovered by a local man in the 1950s, who kept it secret for fear it belonged to Lawrence’s estate. He sold it in the 1990s to the current owner and its existence has only been publicized due to the forthcoming auction .

There is no direct evidence that Lawrence used the knife during the First World War, but as it pre-dates 1914 it is thought that he could have done so.

Also up for sale are a pith helmet – inscribed with the date 1916 – and an agal, part of traditional Arab dress. Both of these items have been previously identified as belonging to Lawrence.

T E Lawrence gained notoriety for his wartime service in the Middle East. He was at first attached to the military intelligence staff as an intelligence officer in Arab affairs, based in Cairo. In 1916, he played a central role in the Arab Revolt against Turkish forces.

The rusted pocketknife – complete with Lawrence’s initials.

Returning to Britain after the war, Lawrence was decorated and feted for his part in the British success in the Middle East.

However, he sought to shun his new-found fame – as ‘Lawrence of Arabia’ – and in the 1920s joined the RAF under a different name.

Lawrence died in 1935, aged 46, following a motorcycle accident near Clouds Hill.

The items will be auctioned on 13 December at Charterhouse auctioneers in Sherborne, Dorset.

Find out more about the life of T E Lawrence in this archived IWM online exhibition

Visit the North Carolinians in World War I site

Visit the American National Archives site

Visit the Eyewitness – Lusitania site

Visit the WWI Research Institute site

Visit the Woodrow Wilson Presidential Library site

Visit the Canvas of War site

Visit the National WWI Museum site

Harry Patch in 2002

Work is to begin on a new memorial to Harry Patch, who served with the Duke of Cornwall’s Light Infantry during the First World War.

He died in 2009, aged 111, and was known as Britain’s ‘last Tommy’ for being the last survivor of the trenches.

The monument is to be sited near the Wells and Mendip Museum, in the heart of the Somerset city where Harry lived.

It has been made possible by the donations of local people, which have included Somerset stone and Welsh slate.

Harry Patch was born in 1898, and joined up in late 1916. The following year, he was badly wounded during the Third Battle of Ypres and sent home to recover, remaining in Britain for the rest of the war.

In his later years, he wrote of his disillusionment about the war in his book, The Last Fighting Tommy, calling it ‘legalised mass murder’.

Click here to listen to a 2003 recording of Harry Patch talking about his memories of the First World War.

Here is the eighth in a series of podcasts that delve into the IWM’s Sound Archive to bring you the voices of those who lived through the First World War. Find out what a huge range of people felt, experienced and witnessed during 1914–1918, and the impact the events of those years had on their lives.

Podcast 8: ‘Over by Christmas’
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Transcript

My mother was in the act of putting the porridge out for us onto the plates when the first shell cracked. Never dreamt it would be Germans…

One of the most popular sayings of 1914 was that the war would be ‘over by Christmas’. In this podcast, some of those who experienced the first months of war explain just how wrong that prediction was. Bill Haine joined up early on. He remembered the mood in Britain when he did so.

Well, I thought the same as everybody else. Everybody said ‘It’ll be over by Christmas and you’ve got to get out soon, otherwise you won’t see anything’. But I don’t know if it was my opinion, or if everybody was saying it. One certainly changed one’s mind when we found how well-organised Jerry was compared with us for instance. And how thinly we were on the ground, of course.

Men of the Middlesex Regiment come under shrapnel fire from German artillery during the Battle of the Marne, September 1914.

Joe Armstrong, of the Loyal North Lancashire Regiment, witnessed first-hand how organised the Germans were.

We were in reserve trenches and an officer thought he’d give us a bit of exercise. To get to this here village where he was taking us, we had to go over a plateau. And we, my regiment, were right on the top of this plateau – which was probably about 200 yards across – when all hell let loose. The Germans had retired to positions that they’d held in 1870, and they had all their artillery on this position so they knew the range to an inch. Before we set off, the officer made us clean our buttons -actually, you know, brass buttons – we had to clean them. So in that sunshine we must have been a beautiful target, mustn’t we? They were laughing and singing and joking, all the lot of them. And in the twinkle of an eye, I was the only one left alive out of 400. I was the only one left alive out of 400. Dead and dying all round me.

Modern weapons caused huge losses. Private Maydwell, of the 2nd Battalion, Royal West Surrey Regiment, recalled a bayonet charge on German positions near Ypres in October 1914.

We manoeuvred to the wood on our bellies, crawling, and when we got there we stood in a line. Officer shouted along the line, ‘Is everybody ready?’ and I called out, ‘I can’t get my bayonet on my rifle, sir’ and he said, ‘Damn you, Maydwell, hurry up!’ And when I’d got it on and said everything was alright, a bugle sounded and we made the charge, shouting as we went. And we hadn’t gone many yards before machine-gun bullets peppered round us, and they came at us almost like hailstones dropping at the side of you. I can remember everybody was screaming that was in that charge, laying down and moaning and groaning and eventually there was silence.

Wounded British soldiers arrive in the back of delivery vans at West Ham and Eastern General Hospital, London, in October 1914.

Those on the home front soon became aware of the high number of casualties being sustained. Elspeth George was a schoolchild in Britain at the time.

And then the troop trains started coming back from Mons – trainload after trainload of them – with frightfully severely wounded people, because they really were terribly badly severely wounded. And of course all the women and children in the village gathered up all the comforts we could find, fruit and soup and everything we could think of to feed them, give them to eat, and we all dashed up to the station.

In Germany too, people were shaken by the scale of the violence – Heinrich Beutow among them.

After the enthusiasm and patriotism came a wave of quietness because then the first death lists were published in the papers. And my mother – she was English – suddenly was surrounded by women of the regiment, of the other officers of course. And most of them after Belgium, the regiment of my father was one of the first to march over the border to Belgium, were widows. And even as a child I must say it gave me a great shock to see that most of the officers were dead and killed during the first weeks; a lot of the younger soldiers were dead. And the whole patriotism, the feeling of enthusiasm, faded away very quickly in my opinion. The world became grey after that.

Another revelation was the impact the war would have on civilians. John Grover, who went on to serve on the Western Front, describes how no one foresaw a ‘total war’.

No one had any idea what were the implications of a nation at war. In fact there’d never been such a war to my knowledge. The idea that this would be a national war to the extent of the complete mobilisation of the country I don’t think it occurred to any of us. We thought it would be a quick clash as in 1870 when the Germans over-ran France so quickly. But of course at that time I think our excitement really was bred a little bit by the tremendous success and expansion of the British Empire.

Ruins of a house in Scarborough hit by shells fired by German battlecruisers on 16 December 1914. Hartlepool and Whitby were also hit.

One of the first strikes against the British population was the bombardment of several east coast towns in December by German warships. Sydney Smith was living in Scarborough at the time.

The bombardment morning was December 16th; I was seven years and five days old. It was a misty morning. We were up early before school. And my mother was in the act of putting the porridge out for us onto the plates when the first shell cracked. My mother said, ‘Oh, what’s that noise?’ My father said ‘It’s gunfire, it’ll be alright it’ll be some of our ships practising.’  Never dreamt it would be Germans. As soon as it was over I went out and went round the corner to see if school was still there – unfortunately it was!

French civilians also came under fire. Helena Reid remembers how Lille was affected.

So we started our life in a different mood. And very soon after, Lille being a very short distance from Germany, the Germans invaded neutral Belgium so very soon they were on our doorstep. And when they got to Lille there was a certain amount of resistance. And so this is where we started a really hard life, because we could hear the guns getting nearer and nearer and the bombs started in Lille. We were not bombed really that flat but there was quite a lot of destruction. And so, because we were heavy with wine, we had a very good cellar, which was a vaulted cellar and my mother thought of the neighbours who had ordinary houses and said if you’d like to come we’ll leave the door open and you’ll just come and find shelter in our cellar.

A front page of the Daily Mirror giving positive news from the front

For those at home, it could be difficult to find out what was happening on the front line. Harry Smith, from Bradford, recalls the difficulty of getting reliable war news.

According to the papers we were doing marvellously. If you gained 100 yards you were very clever and doing very well. We never realised what it was really like. But on the whole the soldiers that returned never spoke about it. And people thought, if they said anything, people didn’t believe them. A lot of people couldn’t believe the conditions were like that.

The conditions were bad, especially in the cold winter months. Under deadly fire, both sides soon built basic trenches to protect themselves. Percy Douglas served on the Western Front.

The first Battle of Ypres was just over. Of course we went into the trenches; they weren’t real trenches, they were just sort of deep ditches – they’d been dug out very roughly. There was no drainage, of course, they were half full of water most of the time; it seemed to rain every day. Being a Scots regiment of course we wore kilts. And it was very unpleasant to jump down into a trench with two feet of water in it wearing a kilt, because under the kilt we didn’t wear any undergarments and you can imagine how cold it was…

Men of 1st Battalion, Cameronians (Scottish Rifles) in the trenches at Houplines, France, December 1914

Things were no better for British troops stationed on the other side of the world. Khonoma Beaumont-Walker, an officer in the South Wales Borderers, took part in the capture of German-held Tsingtao in China in early November.

The Japanese were not having much opposition really because the Germans were withdrawing back into Tsingtao and the Japanese line was a little low line of hills, and we eventually took up a position about a mile or so behind their front line. At this time, just then, after having lovely weather, the rains broke. We had a most terrible period. The nullahs were rushing rivers, the roads were little streams and the dugouts fell in. The cooks couldn’t light a fire, there was no tea, tea couldn’t be boxed up, the matches were wet, the bread was soggy and we lost our rations and walked about in mud up to our knees.

In an effort to keep them warm, British soldiers on the Western Front were often issued with a ration of rum. Signaller Williams, of the London Rifle Brigade, explains how this could have its drawbacks.

I was on guard at battalion HQ, it was right in the middle of the wood, beastly cold wet night and drizzling. There was a lance corporal and three of us on the guard you see, I was doing my turn up there, beastly cold night. The corporal came out with a mug, some rum, he said ‘Have a drop of this to warm you up.’ He said, ‘You haven’t drunk it all have you?!’ I said ‘Yes.’ He said ‘That was for all of us, for four people!’ I wasn’t used to it – I wasn’t used to spirits at all – and I was patrolling up and down this path and found it wouldn’t keep still, it was going backwards and forwards like that. Then I saw the adjutant coming along, I thought good heavens, drunk on guard in face of the enemy, I shall be shot at dawn or something. Anyway I stood myself up, propped myself against a tree and he came along, I said ‘Halt, who goes there’, he said, ‘The adjutant’ – he was just as tight as I was!

To find out more about First World War Centenary events, commemorations and more, go to 1914.org. We’d really like to know what you think of these podcasts. Please rate us on iTunes or leave a comment at 1914.org.

Listen out for Podcast 9: The Christmas Truce

The tunnel under excavation

French archaeologists working near Carspach in Alsace, France recently announced the discovery of 21 German bodies buried since the end of the First World War.

The men were all killed in 1918 while serving in the 94th Reserve Infantry Regiment (Reserve Infanterie Regiment 94), raised in the Grand Duchy of Saxe-Weimar-Eisenach.

The bodies were originally found at the end of last year during a road building project, entombed in a tunnel 6 metres beneath the surface.  The full tunnel – 1.8 metres high and over 100 metres long – is believed to have held up to 500 soldiers.

It was constructed with several exits, electric light and heating, and was known as the ‘Killian Shelter’.  Its size is characteristic of the deep tunnels and underground workings that were built up and down the length of the former Western Front by both sides during the war’s closing years.

Commemorative scroll presented to the next of kin of Lance Sergeant Hans Werner of 5 Kompanie, 5 Garde-Regiment 3E, following his death in action on 21 March 1918 (IWM )

The 21 German dead were part of a larger section of 34 who were all killed in March 1918 when a heavy shell exploded above the tunnel, causing  part of it to cave in.

Thirteen bodies were recovered at the time, but the rest were left in the remains of the tunnel.  All of the bodies are believed to have been identified.

The archaeologists have described the tunnel where the men were found as being ‘a bit like Pompeii’.  The speed with which it collapsed meant that everything inside it at the time is still there, including uniforms, bottles, wallets and prayer beads.

Even the skeleton of a goat has been identified, assumed to be a source of fresh milk for the soldiers.

The bodies will be handed over to the German War Graves Commission for burial.

HLF has launched a new booklet and online information outlining the availability of funding to heritage projects, both large and small, that aim to mark the centenaries which commence in 1914.

HLF is contacting hundreds of organisations across the UK to tell them about the funding and support that is available and to inspire them with examples of projects that are already going ahead with HLF support.

Further information is available at www.hlf.org.uk/firstworldwar

Here is the seventh in a series of podcasts that delve into the IWM’s Sound Archive to bring you the voices of those who lived through the First World War. Find out what a huge range of people felt, experienced and witnessed during 1914–1918, and the impact the events of those years had on their lives.

Podcast 7: Into battle
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Transcript

They came down like: [whistles]. That was the noise the bullets made as they came down…

French soldiers march through Rouen, August 1914

As soon as war began in August 1914, the belligerent nations in Europe sent their troops into battle.

French cavalryman, Mr Errol, described the early actions against German troops that he took part in.

We met the Germans on 2 August. They was about in great number more than we were and we retired. And on the 4 August we went through Belgium.

And then the fighting began with Neufchateau for five or six days. We were all day and night fighting with the cavalry. And the infantry came to relieve us at Neufchateau and we went to Florenville.

German infantry officer Walther Stennes was also sent straight to the fighting front.

Then I took part in three combats – one day after the other. First time against French troops: first day against a cavalry division; second day against French infantry. They fought very brave but still in red trousers and blue coats: we wore field grey and so had much advantage.

The minelayer Königin Luise, the day before she left the Ems to mine the mouth of the River Thames

The first naval action of the war also took place within days, on 5 August. Herbert Greatwood was serving in the destroyer HMS Louis.

Well when war broke out in August, we went out with the Amphion. And we sighted the German liner called the Königin Luise and she was slinging out mines and they was shackled together. Well we sunk her, picked up some of her survivors. And we was coming back the next morning about 20 to 6, and she [Amphion] had a couple of mines wrapped round her. Twenty to six. Up she went. See her go down. We picked some of these Jerries up and went back again and landed them at Shotley Barracks.

Throughout August, German and Allied armies were engaged in an intense series of battles in north-eastern France and southern Belgium. Together they were known as the Battle of the Frontiers. François Dolbau, a private in the French Army, explained the superiority of the Germans in battle.

Well you see when we arrived near Morhange everybody was expecting to go along without much damage, you see, but when we arrived on the trenches of the Germans we could hardly see them because they had special uniforms. And then we could do nothing – absolutely nothing – except to wait. And then at night-time the Germans were shooting us and shelling us too, very heavy shelling you know, we lost a lot of people there, it was awful. Our battery was a very good battery. We had a very good gun, the 75 gun, but not being sufficient in quantity to do any harm to the Germans because they were covered in trenches you know.

On 23 August, the British Expeditionary Force fought its first battle of the war, at Mons in western Belgium. William Collins, a stretcher bearer with the Royal Army Medical Corps, clearly remembered seeing his first shell.

In that wood, to the entrance to that wood I heard the first shell burst above my head – it was a shrapnel shell – with a high-ish burst, white smoke and the bullets came down whistling like all the hobs of hell, as if a 1000 whistles had been turned on. The bullets, of course, were round but they had a little tick on them that made them whistle as they came through the air. That was my first shell. They came down like: [whistles]. That was the noise the bullets made as they came down.

Walter Burchmore, a gunner with the Royal Field Artillery, was struck by his first encounter with German troops.

Then quite suddenly, out of the blue, we saw cavalry coming towards us. They had come out on our right flank. I said ‘Good gracious, it’s Germans!’ So we immediately started to fire, we fired fuse nought and they got about 300 yards, I suppose from the guns and they wouldn’t face it. They wheeled to the right and after a bit they rode straight into a squadron of our own cavalry, who finished off where we’d started.

Men of the Royal Fusiliers resting in Mons, 22 August

When German infantry advanced in large numbers during the battle, rapid British rifle fire resulted in heavy losses. George Singleton, of the 1^st Battalion Kings Liverpool Regiment, recalled how easy it was to hit the German troops.

About 1 pm on that Sunday the Germans entered Mons. They came in hoards. Shoulder to shoulder. Absolutely shoulder, a mass of men, not like us you know spread out 10 feet or so. Just one big tide. You can imagine a football crowd, shoulder to shoulder – thousands of men coming towards this road. Well they were just sitting ducks. But they still kept marching over their dead and wounded, still kept coming. And the old 15 rounds rapid was like a machine gun. We just cut ‘em to grass, cut ‘em to pieces.

Cuthbert Rabagliati, an observer in the Royal Flying Corps, carried out aerial reconnaissance near Mons. He reported his findings to the commander in chief of the British Expeditionary Force, Field Marshal Sir John French.

I was put into a motor car by my squadron commander and taken off to GHQ which was in a chateau some miles away. As we arrived we were ushered in and we went into a room with a lot of elderly gentlemen covered in gold lace and all the rest of it. All these senior generals, it was Sir John French’s own personal conference that was going on. Somebody announced us and he said, ‘Well here’s a boy from the Flying Corps, come here and sit down!’ I was put to sit next to him rather terrifiedly. Then he said, ‘Now, where have you been, have you been flying, what have you been doing?’ And then he suddenly looked and he called up, he said to some man, George or whatever his name was, ‘Come here and just look at this!’ I showed him a map all marked out. He said, ‘Have you been over that area?’ and I said, ‘Yes, sir!’ And I explained what I had seen and they were enormously interested. Then they began reading the figures that I had estimated, whereupon I seemed to feel that their interest faded…

Men and horses of the Cavalry Division, British Expeditionary Force, retreat from Mons in August 1914

Despite fighting well at Mons, the British were forced to draw back as the Germans’ greater strength overwhelmed them. Private William Holbrook, who was acting as a runner carrying messages, described the confusion of the retreat that followed.

I got down with this message and when I got away I had a hell of a job getting back, I started going back and met some troops coming down. And a fellow said, ‘Where are you going?’ I didn’t know them they weren’t from my battalion – so I told them and he said, ‘You’ll have a job’, he said, ‘they’re retiring from the river.’ And I said, ‘Retiring?!’ he said, ‘Yes’, I said ‘I suppose that’s the message I took back, I don’t know.’ When I got back I had a job to get through – I had to go a different way because there were troops coming down. When I got back to where we were, they had gone! I didn’t see anybody. Wondered what the hell had happened. So I cleared off as fast as I could. And so of course I was behind the troops retiring and the Germans advancing.

Marching for days on end, the British Expeditionary Force became exhausted during the retreat. A. Davis of the Royal Artillery remembered how this affected everyone.

Poor old infantry, they were just throwing themselves down into the side of the road every time they had a halt. And the moment they stopped from being asleep on their feet they were asleep on the side of the road. And cluttered up the road to some extent. I can remember the feet, sticking out on the road and the difficulty of our fellows – with the fact that they themselves were worn out and asleep – the difficulty they had in avoiding the sleeping men by the side of the road, the poor old infantry chaps. And I know that on one or two occasions they actually did suffer with our gun limbers and wagons running over their legs that were stretched out into the road.

A British officer on a horse captured from an Uhlan regiment by the 19th Cavalry Brigade

Thomas Olive was a driver in the Army Service Corps. During the retreat, he and the men he was carrying had to fight off German cavalry.

From Amiens, I had the Honourable Pearson, Lord Cowdray’s son; the Honourable McKay; a French interpreter; and Major Rennie. Anyway, this Lord Cowdray’s son, the Honourable Pearson, he was an adventurous young fellow. And when we got to Senlis, we ran into some Germans, some Uhlans these posh lot the Uhlans, like our Life Guards, very posh. So we put our lorry across the road – or I did – and laid underneath and shot at these Uhlans. Well we managed to do two. The others went away, galloped away. So it was a souvenir caper then: one of them had his helmet; another one had his boot; and I had the lance.

British NCO Thomas Painting saw his first French troops during the Retreat from Mons. He couldn’t believe what they wore to go into battle.

During that day we saw our first French troops. And I was surprised to see them. The cavalry were in action there with the cuirasses on, plumed helmets; the infantry with the red trousers, blue jackets, and wearing their war medals, going into war. Lots of them had got war medals on from the African campaigns. And they were going into action like that! No camouflage, no nothing – they absolutely showed up!

Part of the BEF fought a rearguard action at Le Cateau on 26 August, so that the remainder could continue with the retreat. Frederick Atkinson took part in the fierce fighting there.

At Le Cateau we were left on our own – two companies, A and B. All the others had been withdrawn you see and we were there to allow the 5^th Division to get away. The order no retirement came. You can understand my predicament and that of the other fellows there, there weren’t many left because we’d been slaughtered practically. Well I do not hesitate to say that I sincerely and silently called upon God for wisdom, guidance, courage and protection. Then with all the lungpower I could muster I ordered, ‘Let’s charge! We might as well die charging as die in this hole.’ Because it was just as though an arsenal had been showered on us – an arsenal of explosives.

A German poster depicting the Battle of Tannenberg

At the same time as these battles were being fought in France, German forces were engaged against the vast Imperial Russian Army on the Eastern Front. The month ended with a decisive German victory at Tannenberg in East Prussia, as artillery officer K Wachs recalled.

After two hours about the Russians were quiet. Now we became fired from the left. I turned my guns to the left and shoot to the Russian infantry. My general send order ‘Not shoot! They are our own infantry.’ But I had a very good glass, a sharp glass, 11 times; and I could see that they are Russian. The Russian infantry had another uniform than the German. And I shot.

To find out more about First World War Centenary events, commemorations and more, go to 1914.org. We’d really like to know what you think of these podcasts. Please rate us on iTunes or leave a comment at 1914.org.

Listen out for Podcast 8: Over by Christmas

The digitally re-mastered film

The Battle of the Somme is one of the most famous military events in history – synonymous with huge loss of life and costly failure.

The start of the battle was captured on film by British official cinematographers Geoffrey Malins and John McDowell. The huge volume of footage they produced became one of the most successful feature films ever made – an estimated 20 million tickets were sold in Britain in the first two months after its release.

The pioneering battlefield documentary brought the realities of the Western Front to the British public just a couple of months after the events it depicted

It included scenes that were entirely new to them. The film makers followed British troops as they prepared for the battle; launched a huge preliminary bombardment; and went into attack. Controversially, it depicted dead and wounded soldiers.

Lt Geoffrey Malins filming the preliminary bombardment of the Big Push, July 1st 1916

The enduring popularity of the film was such that in 2006, the film was digitally re-mastered and rereleased to mark the 90^th anniversary of the battle. Composer Laura Rossi was commissioned by IWM to write a new score to accompany the debut screening.

While researching the battle, she discovered that one of the many British soldiers at the Somme was her great uncle, stretcher-bearer Fred Ainge – who kept a diary of his wartime experiences.

Laura read his diaries and visited the battlefield to help her write her soundtrack – which received a five-star review in The Times.

Now, a tour will present the film and live music together for the first time since 2006, in performances from Leicester to London.

The details for the tour are:

12 November 2011: Leicester Symphony Orchestra – De Montfort Hall, Leicester – Book tickets

20 November 2011: Wessex Concert Orchestra – The Corn Exchange, Devizes, Wiltshire – Information

25 February 2012: Philharmonia Britannica – St John’s Church, Waterloo, London

10 March 2012: Ealing Symphony Orchestra - St Martin’s Church, London W3

You can order a DVD of The Battle of the Somme and see a preview of it here.

Learn more about the film here.

Imperial War Museums has partnered with Pearson to create an online course in family history in the British Army in the First World War. We are looking for testers to spend an hour at IWM London to try out the course and give us your feedback.

Where: IWM London on Lambeth Road

When: 9 November, any time between 10:30am and 4:30pm

Pearson are a publishing company behind brands like Penguin, Dorling Kindersley and the Financial Times. This course is part of a new online learning series called Love to Learn.

If you’d like to find out more and book a time to test the course at IWM London email maddy.kadish@pearson.com. Slots are available between 10.30am and 4.30pm on Wednesday 9 November. You’ll also receive Marks and Spencer vouchers for your time.

Admission to IWM London is always free of charge.

Private Alexander Johnston, 78th Battalion, Canadian Expeditionary Force

A Scottish-born soldier who died 97 years ago has been identified and reburied with full military honours.

Private Alexander Johnston was killed less than two months before the end of the First World War during the Battle of the Canal du Nord. He was buried in an unmarked grave near Cambrai.

In 2008, his remains were dug up during the construction of a new building. Two collar badges, of the 78^th Battalion (Winnipeg Grenadiers), were also discovered.

The find led to a three year investigation by the Canadian Department of National Defence. Experts used archival records and DNA samples from teeth found in the jaw bone.

Armed with this information, a genealogist tracked down one of Johnston’s descendants in early 2011. Don Gregory, from Ottowa, knew of Johnston from his great aunt, who was the soldier’s sister.

Alexander Johnston was born in Coatbridge, North Lanarkshire, in 1885. He emigrated to Canada in his late 20s and worked as a boilermaker in Hamilton, Ontario.

He was conscripted into the Canadian Expeditionary Force and arrived in France in January 1918. During the fierce fighting of the Battle of the Canal du Nord, he went missing. It is not clear when and how he actually died.

On 26 October 2011, Johnston was finally laid to rest. Following a funeral service at the Church of Saint-Aubert de Sailly-lez-Cambrai, he was buried with military honours at Cantimpré Cemetery, a small, Canadian military cemetery.

The ceremonies were attended by Johnston’s Canadian and Scottish descendents, who were meeting for the first time.

Visit the Alfred Munnings site

Visit the Australians on the Western Front site

Visit the In Flanders Fields site

Visit the CWGC Histories site

Visit the Christ’s at War blog site

Visit the Canadian Wartime Propaganda site

Visit the War Graves Photographic Project site

Visit the AWM Flickr site

Here is the sixth in a series of podcasts that delve into the IWM’s Sound Archive to bring you the voices of those who lived through the First World War. Find out what a huge range of people felt, experienced and witnessed during 1914–1918, and the impact the events of those years had on their lives.

Podcast 6: Off to the front
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Transcript

We were loaded up with wine; bottles of wine everywhere. The lorries had more wine than they had equipment I think, in some cases. As a result of that, in fact, I have never drunk wine since.

Within days of the outbreak of war in 1914, armed forces across Europe were mobilised. Over the following weeks, the men all made their way to the front lines. Henry Williamson, a private with the London Regiment, remembered how he felt when he heard he was off to the front.

When they [the orders] came through I remember in the tented lines on Crowborough Heath most of the fellows cheered and rolled over, rolled over and kicked their legs in the air and cheered and cheered and cheered, tremendously excited. I wasn’t excited, I was apprehensive; I didn’t believe the war was going to be over by Christmas, I had a feeling from having talked to chaps from Mons in the local hospital that it wasn’t going to be altogether a picnic.

Bill Haine

Bill Haine had rather a hurried departure from Britain with his regiment, the Honourable Artillery Company.

By about six o’clock in the morning we were ready to depart and we did depart – by train from somewhere, I forget where we marched to. But without any by-your-leave, without any leave, or without anything, saying goodbye to one’s family or anything. I remember that I wrote a postcard when I was in the train and chucked it out of the window at the station hoping that it would be delivered to my people at home, that was all. And we arrived that evening at Southampton, that was on the 18th September 1914, and we embarked that evening. And, well, that was the start of things.

Soldiers were usually moved long distances by train. Charles Ditcham found the conditions on board very difficult.

Looking back now what amazes me is why they put ten people, fully equipped, in a compartment. It was absolutely – you were stifled, with all your kit and equipment, with ten people in a compartment. They didn’t feed us at all. They gave us a ration of a tin of bully and four biscuits. And that had to do you till you got to the other end. I mean, let’s be fair, I mean the odd people on the station used to pass you in a cup of tea.

William Holbrook was mobilised at the start of August 1914. He recalled his thoughts on the prospect of war as he prepared to leave home.

When we got to Cowes, waiting on the small boat to cross to Southampton, there was a periodical going at that time called John Bull. On the side of a house was a placard, an advert, advertising John Bull. The words were: ‘The dawn of Britain’s greatest glory.’ That’s all it had got on it nothing but just John Bull and ‘The dawn of Britain’s greatest glory’ – that was the whole side of a house. And as I was lying there for an hour or so, I thought to myself, I wonder whether it will be or not.

British troops arriving at Le Havre

Somerset Light Infantry soldier Bertie Rendall was involved in a tragic accident while preparing to cross to France in winter 1914.

We reported to the staff sergeant. Then the sergeant pointed, as cool and calm and collected as you like, ‘There’s a little bit of cargo here boys got to be taken aboard, so get going. Two to a box.’ And he said, ‘There’s three and a half ton of .303 rifle ammo, to be carried up on her decks and right down below.’ Anyway, we steamed in and started off. And I was paired up with a young lance corporal; I never did know his name. This box that I had somehow I stumbled. And these boxes were about 9 inches square and they were near on a half hundredweight each. Now this box went on and stopped in the nape of this poor kid’s neck. Jammed between the box and the edge of the stair was his mouth and nose. When they picked the poor kid up he was gone.

Henry Mabbott went over to France early on with the 2nd Bn Cameron Highlanders.

So we went across on a paddle boat, we had 106 pounds on our backs and a lifebelt on top of that. I shouldn’t think we’d keep afloat with that lot. Going across there were a vast amount of destroyers tearing around all over the place. We ultimately landed at Boulogne; we went up on to the hill tops of Boulogne and pitched tents.

Men of the 1st Battalion, Cameronians at a rest camp at Le Havre waiting to go up to the front.

Many British soldiers had never been to France before. Laurie Field was excited when he first landed on foreign soil.

I was alright, some of the chaps were sick but I think we went from Folkestone to Le Havre. Yes, because we landed there and it was right on the top of the hill this camp, this place was, that we landed. When we got near the French, we said, ‘Oh look, there are two men over there, let’s hear some French.’ One chap called out, ‘What’s the matter you buggers?’ or something like that! They were Englishmen! I always remember that.

Doris Beaghan was on holiday in France when war broke out. She remembered the reaction in Le Havre to the arrival of the British troops.

It was absolutely incredible; the British Expeditionary Force was coming in. The soldiers were marching in of course all singing, the French people all excited, madly waving, dashing about, rushing up to the soldiers, pulling off their buttons as keepsakes, kissing them and, oh, terrific excitement, it was marvellous, and here they were.

John Seymour

Private John Seymour, Army Service Corps, was one of the many Allied soldiers who spent time at the camp at Le Havre.

Well we were told we could get up what time we liked; there would be no Reveille that morning. When we did get up there was a shop across the road, a little shop, sold everything, tobacco, and of course we made a raid on that. Well I wasn’t very keen on smoking but I had my share. But after the first draw, I didn’t like it and never touched a civilian cigarette after that!

George Ashurst of the Lancashire Fusiliers eagerly departed for Le Havre in November 1914. Once there, however, he wasn’t so keen.

We get off the boat eventually, everything, full pack and all the rest of it and we march off. It must’ve been about four or five mile up hill, it was murder! And then when we got there it was under canvas, the tents. And I’m sure they were that deep inside of tents with mud. Woodbines were sixpence a packet, to us soldiers! Of course we were there for a few days but we were all playing hard to get on a draft, it was that horrible there. The food was awful; the place was awful you know. We were all clamouring to go on a draft up to the front. We were clamouring, we’re asking and begging to go on a draft up to the front.

Getting to France was not the end of the journey. For some, such as James Gascoyne of the Royal Flying Corps, the actual move to the front proved to be an arduous task – although initially it had its compensations.

On one occasion we were travelling up – it was the first night I think – we’d got some of the vehicles, starting with the station workshop, which was heavily loaded, got stuck in the mud at the side of the road. There was quite a to-do then; everybody had to turn out to push this thing out and dig it out. We were all covered in mud. This went on for a long time; practically all the way up we were getting vehicles stopped and stuck in the mud. But the French people were absolutely marvellous. They assembled along the road and gave us terrific cheers, which by the way they didn’t give us when we came back. And we were loaded up with wine; bottles of wine everywhere. The lorries had more wine than they had equipment I think, in some cases. As a result of that, in fact, I have never drunk wine since.

German troops leaving Berlin for the front by train

German troops moving through Belgium to meet Allied forces also experienced difficulties on their journey, as officer K Lubinski explained.

The first marches which we had to do were terrible because it was very hot – all these days were scorchers. And we couldn’t eat, we couldn’t cook because we never knew where we would halt and if there was a halt how long it would be. Twice, I ordered my company to start cooking, and then the order came, unpile arms, and off we went and the whole food went into the ditch.

On the road, British private Edward Darby found the lessons he’d learned at school helped him get round the unsatisfactory menu he and his fellow soldiers received.

At Abbeville we went for a rest there, and in my schoolboy French I went into a café and I says I wanted some ‘du pain’. That’s bread and some milk; I got some milk and some ‘du pain’. Just as I was coming out of the shop, I walked bang into my officer in command of the convoy. ‘What on Earth are you doing here, Darby?’ I said, ‘I’ve been in to get some good food. I’m fed up with bully beef and biscuits.’ He says, ‘Did you ask for that?’ I said, ‘Yes, in my schoolboy French.’ So he says, ‘Well, I haven’t had a square meal, I’ve been in the same position as you, you know. Fared a wee bit better than you, but do you think you could get me some of those buns…?’

To find out more about First World War Centenary events, commemorations and more, go to 1914.org.

We’d really like to know what you think of these podcasts. Please rate us on iTunes or leave a comment at 1914.org.

Listen out for Podcast 7: Into battle

Ocean or North beach, north of Anzac Cove, Gallipoli, 1915

An ambitious project to uncover what life was like for soldiers at Gallipoli during the First World War has produced a range of exciting discoveries.

Earlier this year, an international team of archaeologists began an extensive survey of the peninsula in Turkey, the scene of some of the fiercest fighting of the First World War.

The experts used the latest technology, including non-invasive mapping and GPS, to plot the terrain of 1915. They found incredibly complex trench systems that would be difficult to record using even modern means.

One of the most notable finds was that of the area known as Malone’s Terraces. This was located near Quinn’s Post, a key Allied position, and was masterminded by Lieutenant Colonel William Malone of the Wellington Battalion, NZEF.

When New Zealanders arrived in June 1915 to take over the defence of Quinn’s Post from Australian troops, Malone strengthened the defences. This included having terraces built into the ground for soldiers to sleep in. They were long thought to be completely lost, so their discovery is highly significant.

Australian troops at Quinn’s Post in 1915. The new survey has found Malone’s Terraces, located nearby.

The terraces were part of over 1,000 metres of trenches and dugouts identified by the archaeologists. They also unearthed over 130 artefacts, including water bottles complete with bullet holes, ammunition, buttons and belt buckles.

Another outcome of the survey has led to the suggestion that Turkish troops enjoyed better quality food than Allied soldiers.

The team found that the Turkish kitchens were a lot closer to their front line than those of their opponents – meaning meals would have been fresher. It was also the case that processed food containers were much more commonly found on the Allied side than on the Turkish.

The team’s work will go towards a greater understanding of the Gallipoli campaign, while their finds will go on display at a local museum in Turkey.

Visit the Harry Truman’s World War I site

Visit the Fovant Badges site

Visit the British Cartoon Archive site

Visit the Cabinet Papers 1915-1980 site

Visit the Historial site

Visit the BBC World War One site

Visit the Wynne’s Diary site

Visit the 4 On Demand site

Bruce Bairnsfather’s most popular character ‘Old Bill’ features in this 1918 poster

A formidable weapon of war has been unearthed in a quarry in Aberdeenshire, Scotland. After four days of digging through rubble at the site in Stuartfield, a German howitzer gun has been found completely intact.

The large artillery piece was brought back from the First World War and placed in the town square by the local laird. When it was put in the quarry is unclear, but 1,200 tonnes of rock and soil had to be removed to reach it. However, it seems that it will have to remain there, as excavators say it is too dangerous to remove it.

Watch a BBC News report on the incredible find here.

A plaque is to be unveiled to one of the most famous cartoonists of the First World War.

Bruce Bairnsfather was the creator of the character ‘Old Bill’, who featured in a range of satirical postcards published during the war, entitled Fragments From France.

Bairnsfather served with the Royal Warwickshire Regiment on the Western Front and based his immensely popular cartoons on his experiences.

William Barker – Canada’s most decorated serviceman – earned a Victoria Cross, two Distinguished Service Orders and three Military Crosses

He later lived in Colwall, Herefordshire, England, where a plaque commemorating him will be unveiled on 24 September. A special message from his daughter, who lives in the USA, will be read out at the ceremony.

Another First World War veteran is to be remembered this week. Canadian ace William Barker achieved 50 victories and earned a Victoria Cross, two DSOs and three Military Crosses during his service with the Royal Flying Corps.

But Barker – Canada’s most decorated serviceman – has been largely forgotten since his death aged 35 in 1930, overshadowed by his compatriot and fellow ace, Billy Bishop.

Now, his remarkable wartime achievements are to be commemorated with a new memorial at a cemetery in Toronto, Canada. It will be engraved with Bishop’s description of Barker as ‘the deadliest air fighter who ever lived.’

The ceremony will include a flypast of two First World War aircraft and will be attended by Barkers’ descendents, including his proud grandson.

Here is the fifth in a series of podcasts that delve into the IWM’s Sound Archive to bring you the voices of those who lived through the First World War. Find out what a huge range of people felt, experienced and witnessed between1914-1918 – and the impact the events of those years had on their lives.

Podcast 5: Training for war
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Transcript

On the command ‘Fix!’ you’d all fix, but then you’d get your old dummy, your sacks o’ straw – ‘Grrrr…!’ Make all the noise you could…

Members of the RNVR undertake physical training at the Crystal Palace in September 1914

Huge numbers of men who signed up to fight for their country in the summer of 1914 had never been in military service before. They had to be trained. For these new recruits, the schedule could be tough, as George Wray of the Royal Naval Division – stationed at Crystal Palace – witnessed:

We used to do jogging before breakfast. And there was a commander who used to take us out, a company of us, and we used to go jogging right round the environs as it were of the palace itself. Then we’d come back, fall in, then be dismissed in the usual way and then go to breakfast. What I was a little bit, if it could be called, disturbed about that was that some men who hadn’t been accustomed to getting up early in the morning used to faint while they were standing in the line.

There was an equally exhausting regime for those who joined the Royal Flying Corps. S Saunders’ day began with parade duties at 6 a.m.

S Saunders of the Royal Flying Corps

After breakfast then we had some more drill and then we had a bit of a break, we could get a cup of cocoa or something like that, and then we went off on a route march and come back in time for dinner at one o’clock. Well this was a general scramble, and then at half-past two we were drilling again. We knocked off then about four-thirty to five-thirty, then there was tea, and then sometimes we would be detailed for guard, which was a farce more than anything else, just to keep us awake. But if we weren’t on guard we just went into the barrack-room and just fell asleep ’til six o’clock next morning.

Some did their best to avoid these punishing work outs. King’s Own Yorkshire Light Infantry soldier Donald Murray explains how:

And then it really started. We were all in civilian clothes – there were no uniforms or anything like that. We had pieces of wood for rifles, shaped like a rifle. We all got wise to the fact that if you was ragged enough you wouldn’t have to go on the route marches because you went through a town, you see. So we used to tear our trousers in the worse possible place we could tear it so that we could get out of this route marching! So they decided we’d have to have uniforms. You’ve never seen Kitchener’s uniforms, you should have seen it. It was blue serge with blue bone buttons down the front, for all the world like a convict.

New recruits to the London Regiment during physical drill at Hampstead in December 1914

Undergoing training meant an adjustment to military discipline. Some – such as William Taylor – had no trouble in doing this.

I didn’t resent being ordered about because I think all the time we were competing with other platoons to be the best drilled and the smartest soldiers and I quite enjoyed the life – it was such a change from working in an office.

For others, like Private F Vaughan, it was a bit more of a challenge.

So far we’d been individualists; so far we’d been mummy’s pet. We had a will of our own and it came rather hard to start with to obey commands, but gradually we knew how to form fours, right wheel, left wheel, halt and all the rest of them. We became in other words a disciplined body of men.

Something else to contend with was the often less than luxurious accommodation. William Shipway, a private in the Gloucestershire Regiment, was posted to Essex.

Our company was billeted in the parish hall. A company by the way was 100, eight companies to a battalion when we joined up. And, you slept on the floor, on the boards, two blankets and a ground sheet. No pillow. My pillow was my boots in a haversack. And it’s amazing what you get used to.

German troops departing for a training camp, August 1914

In Germany, equally demanding training programmes were underway. Paul Kane had enlisted in the 5th Telegraph Battalion Signal Service.

Well my routine was every other night, stable watch. By six o’clock I could go back to my room because the others were woken up. And then, what do you call, barrack yard training started, exercise, marching and so on. We were completely untrained. Like here, at a public school you have Officers Training Corps, there isn’t anything like that. I mean, at school, being a strong boy I was very good at gym although I was fat and overweight, I was very good at gym.

Those instructing the trainees had to meet certain standards. Norman Dillon was in command of a company of the 14th Battalion, Northumberland Fusiliers.

One of the things on which great stress was always laid was steadiness on parade. When an inspecting officer came and saw you he always used to say ‘I much admire the steadiness on parade of your men,’ which meant they didn’t move about in the ranks or scratch their noses.

Dolly Shepherd: in 1914 she joined the Women’s Emergency Corps, an organisation which trained women to become doctors, nurses and motorcycle messengers

Also finding themselves under scrutiny were members of the newly-formed Women’s Emergency Corps, such as Dolly Shepherd.

And then we had a route march. We had a route march and we went to the Mansion House – and had to drill them. And of course people were all giggling and laughing and saying ‘Women soldiers! Just imagine having women soldiers. Whoever thought of such a thing?!’ And they used to sneer at us and all kinds of things.

The huge swell in army numbers resulted in a shortage of equipment, as Irving Jones of the Welch Regiment discovered.

We were all so glad when we had the proper thing. We could all drill properly with the correct Lee Enfield rifle. But before that it was sticks we started off with: then we had dummy rifles. But then after about 3 or 4 months we had the correct rifles. The training was haphazard I think, not much cohesion with it, but the main thing was to keep you fit. Cos we’d been miners, biggest part of the battalion or the division were miners, the majority. So it was a case of discipline, they had to instil discipline. You know, you were leading a different life.

Some new soldiers found the training a bit outdated. James Pratt served with the Gordon Highlanders.

The training we had at Bedford was chiefly drilling and marching and a certain amount of open warfare skirmishing. By the skirmishing I mean you advanced by spread out in a line with five or ten yards between you. You advanced by rushes 20 or 30 yards, flopped down into a bit of cover and then supposed to go on firing from there. But it wasn’t very popular particularly when you had to do it over a ploughed field in the winter time when you got your clothing and your rifle all thoroughly messed up. And that was the type of training based entirely on what had happened in the Boer War.

Men of Kitchener's Army doing physical training exercises at Branksome near Bournemouth

Others, like Harry Smith, simply hoped they would never have to use what they had learned.

Of course, your fixing bayonets, was part of your rifle drill. On the command ‘Fix!’ you’d all fix, but then you’d get your old dummy, your sacks o’ straw – ‘Grrrr…!’ – make all the noise you could, and that was part of the training. I’ve never known anyone hurt through it – I don’t think there was, but I can’t say it ever stood me in good stead; I never did, and I’m glad – I’m pleased to say – I never had any call to stick a bayonet in a body. We used to do it and enjoy it really – make a lot o’ noise about sticking it in, but we used to say ‘Wonder what the hell we shall feel like if we have to do it to a Jerry?’

To find out more about First World War Centenary events, commemorations and more go to 1914.org. We’d really like to know what you think of these podcasts. Please rate us on iTunes or leave a comment at 1914.org. Listen out for Podcast 6: Off to the front

The original manuscript of ‘The General’, complete with Sassoon's crossings out © Imperial War Museum

A rare manuscript by First World War poet Siegfried Sassoon has been purchased by the IWM. The autographed draft version of the anti-war poem ‘The General’ was bought at auction for nearly £4,000.

Siegfried Sassoon was one of the most famous of the First World War poets. Born in Kent on 8 September 1886, he joined the Army the day before war was declared in 1914. He fought bravely on the Western Front and earned a Military Cross.

This highly significant work was written by Sassoon while he was in Denmark Hill Hospital in April 1917. It was first published in his second collection of war poems, Counter Attack, in 1919.

The draft shows most of the re-workings that appear in the final version, although the last line as published reads ‘But he did for them both by his plan of attack’.

“I have seen and endured the suffering of the troops, and I can no longer be a party to prolong these sufferings for ends which I believe to be evil and unjust” Siegfried Sassoon, July 1917

Siegfried Sassoon whilst serving with the Royal Welch Fusiliers (IWM Photo Q101780)

‘The General’ is one of the most famous of Sassoon’s poems. It was written while he was questioning the validity of the war following the death in action of one of his close friends, David Cuthbert Thomas.

Sassoon’s anti-war message is made clear by the satirical nature of the poem, highlighting his opposition to what he saw as the incompetence of army command. The ‘cheery old card’ has since been identified as General Reginald Pinney, who Sassoon condemns for having a detachment from the realities of life at the fighting front.

Listen to Siegfried Sassoon reading ‘The General’ in a 1962 recording:

Visit the RAMC in the Great War site

Reconstruction of a flame-thrower by British military engineers

‘Breathing Fire: The Dragon of the Somme’ centres on an incredible construction that was used on just 10 occasions during the war.

Measuring 19 metres in length and weighing 2.5 tonnes, the structure projected a 100 metre-long flame into German trenches.

The weapon was discovered in May 2010, in a tunnel of the British trenches near Mametz, in the Somme region.

Parts of it have now been placed on display in a special exhibit at the Museum of the Great War, alongside a replica of the entire device made by local students.

Visitors can find out more about this fascinating remnant of war until 11 December 2011.

Find out more at the Museum of the Great War’s homepage.

Visit the Canada’s Naval History site

Visit the Heritage Explorer site

Visit the Guardian Century site

Visit the Essential Somme website

Visit the Canada and the First World War site

Go to The Aerodrome website

(l-r) Joe Thomas, Simon Bird and Jonny Sweet, stars of new wartime comedy 'Chickens'

Two of the stars of hit E4 sitcom The Inbetweeners are almost unrecognisable in their newest project, no longer modern-day teenagers but smartly-dressed young men in 1914.

Simon Bird and Joe Thomas – along with writing partner Jonny Sweet – have moved on from their massively successful TV series and blockbusting film to write and star in a new, and distinctly different, show.

Chickens features three men who, for various reasons, remain in Britain instead of going to war.

George (Thomas) is a conscientious objector; Cecil (Bird) can’t join the Army because he has flat feet; and Bert (Sweet) is just pretending the war isn’t happening. All three are ostracized by their local community for not ‘doing their duty’.

Although it is a comedy, it taps into some of the real attitudes towards to those who didn’t fight during the First World War. Many men who appeared to be of military age were given white feathers – to symbolise cowardice – and could be subject to taunts by strangers.

The pilot is on Channel 4 at 10.30 pm on Friday 2 September.

'War Horse' by Michael Morpurgo is featured in the IWM London exhibition ‘Once Upon a Wartime’, open until 30 October 2011

Also in the news this week has been an additional project that uses the First World War as a setting.

Following on from the huge popularity of War Horse – a novel, stage play and forthcoming Steven Spielberg-directed movie – another of British author Michael Morpurgo’s war-based works will be hitting the big screen.

Private Peaceful has recently started filming, and stars several up-and-coming young British actors, including Jack O’Connell (best known from TV series Skins) and Hero Fiennes Tiffin (from the sixth Harry Potter film).

The plot revolves around the reminiscences of Thomas ‘Tommo’ Peaceful about his early life in Devon and later experiences fighting in Belgium during the First World War. The film is due for release next year.

Here is the fourth in a series of podcasts that delve into the IWM’s Sound Archive to bring you the voices of those who lived through the First World War. Find out what a huge range of people felt, experienced and witnessed between 1914-1918 – and the impact the events of those years had on their lives.

Podcast 4: Wrong place, wrong time
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Transcript

The young woman was shot dead in front of her child, just after her husband had been taken away to be shot. And that happened hundreds and thousands of times.

Order for French General Mobilisation, 2 August 1914

During the summer of 1914, many people in Europe went on holiday as usual. When war broke out, some found themselves in the wrong place, at the wrong time. Doris Beaghan’s family holiday in Santec, France was interrupted by the opening of hostilities.

And then the war broke, France and Germany. And of course the French people then didn’t know which side the British were coming in on, if at all. So we were treated with grave suspicion and as aliens. And every day my father had to report to Roscoff which was about 3 miles away and all along the beach there were soldiers with fixed bayonets. And there was a curfew – no bathing after dark! And eventually we were told that we could go.

Herbe Haase, from Frankfurt in Germany, was holidaying with her mother and sister on one of the islands in the North Sea when they received an urgent message.

And then one day we came home and there was a telegram waiting for my mother, in which my father said: ‘Take next boat, come home at once.’ So my mother had to make arrangements and pack all the things. And next morning the whole holiday population, an enormous crowd, went all to the quays because everybody had to leave on three boats and the crowd was terrific. And my mother with a small child on her arms and a small child clinging to her skirts of course couldn’t get on to the boat, everybody was pushing and pressing. A lady came and said: ‘Would you like to take a seat on the luggage boat, because there is some space?’, and on the luggage boat we crossed.

Angela Limerick’s parents were visiting Germany and only just made it out of the country in time.

My parents were in Germany doing one of these cures and we were then conscious at the end of July that war was imminent. And we kept on sending telegrams to them saying come home quickly, which they never got of course. And eventually they did get through: they were on the last train through Belgium and they saw all the troops marching up and everything else in Germany as they passed through. And were very, very lucky to get through. But they heard nothing there; the papers didn’t give them any indication of what was coming. And it was only on the, I suppose it was the third of August, that the doctor rushed into their room and said ‘You must get out and pack at once and be gone in an hour if you mean to get away at all’.

A Belgian field gun and crew in position

At the start of the war, German military strategy relied on a swift invasion of France – via Belgium. The Belgian Army, though heavily outnumbered, put up a brave resistance. This soldier took part in the defence of Liège.

I was one of the youngest classes so I was in the front line and they put us up in little trenches what was made there all in a hurry, because there was nothing prepared, near the Fort of Barchon. It was a few metres away from the fort that we were stationed and that’s where we had our first christening from German shrapnel fire. And after we had been there a little while, not very long, that officers really understood what was happening that it was meant really war that it was not playing about so we had already a few casualties.

Civilians fled from the German Army as it advanced through Belgium. Alice Brand describes having to leave her life behind.

Well then, the thing was I think was worse than anything was when we got on the boat, all the refugees – all kinds – that was a dreadful thing. People we’d never met of course, didn’t know anything about it. I mean, it’s an awful experience, you know, when you have to shut your door, nice home we had, a nice house, fully furnished. Beautiful, everything. Nice doll I had! Sounds funny doesn’t it but I had it. It was a beautiful home and I’ve often thought that now, it does seem a shame really the things we could have done with, you know.

Plaque commemorating the massacre of the population of Tamines, Belgium on 22 August 1914

As Belgium fell to the Germans, many atrocities were committed against civilians. Germaine Soltau heard of such incidents.

But then our government was gone and meanwhile the fortress of Liège had fallen. Then the Germans were on their way to Brussels, preceded by streams of refugees telling us about more stories of atrocities which all happened in the little villages and small towns of the Ardennes. Well everybody knows about Visé and Dinant and Tamines and all that. Personally, we heard about friends who were living in a little village in the Ardennes. The young woman was shot dead in front of her child, just after her husband had been taken away to be shot. And that happened hundreds and thousands of times. Always the same story.

Belgian refugees fleeing from the German invasion, carrying their possessions

The violation of Belgian neutrality caused Britain to enter the war. Within days, British soldiers were on the continent. Many who witnessed the plight of Belgian refugees, such as Frederick Atkinson, were inspired to fight for them.

A bit further on we came to the woods and there were thousands of them, thousands of refugees in those woods with their scanty belongings, taking refuge in the woods for the night. These woods were silhouetted in the great flames of the destroyed villages and towns which lit up in front of them. On seeing these people, these refugees, we forgot our troubles, we forgot our hunger, we forgot our thirst, we forgot everything but we set our chins forward in order to try and do something to alleviate this suffering.

Ernest White found that the sheer numbers of refugees held up the advance of his regiment, the 18th Hussars.

The refugees delayed us quite a lot on the roads. And it was really very hard to get through some of these places with the refugees coming down. I can remember bicycles and handcarts and cars loaded up, coming away. And going up through there, there was estaminets, all empty. Houses. I myself went into one estaminet and it was empty. I filled up my water bottle with rum.

Crowds of Belgian refugees prepare to leave Ostend in a trawler

Many Belgians escaped to Britain on crowded boats. Paul Bareau, from Antwerp, describes the welcome his family received.

Well we left Belgium in dejection and we arrived in England and suddenly found ourselves heroes, the brave little Belgians. I remember being welcomed in Folkestone by what must have been the chairman of the reception committee, a large woman who embraced my sister and myself, and this for me epitomised the welcome which we received then and which we were to receive for months and months afterwards. We stayed with friends of my father and I can’t speak enough of the kindness which I received in England.

For any German people in Britain, there was no such kindness. Instead, they found themselves labelled as the enemy. Dorothy Lester explains how this affected her.

There was one family whose house we had to pass on the way home from school and there were three boys in this family, and I don’t even know what their name was! But they used to throw stones at us. Now how they knew that my mother was German, I don’t know. But I mean, we didn’t cover up anything and my sister may have let it out to one of the boys at school. So my sister and I found another way home – we used to go a long way home so as not to pass this.

There were many other examples of violence against Germans in Britain. But in some cases, the hatred manifested itself in a different way, as Eric Dott recalls.

My father disapproved of the war altogether and had great sympathy for those who were ostracized because they were German. And among them was a notable man, Dr. Otto Schlapp, who was the lecturer in German Literature at Edinburgh University. Now he was a fine man, a great character and a very gifted scholar. But his friends just fell off because he was German and the war was on. People who knew what a fine man he was but the prejudice of the war over-ruled it all and people who he knew well wouldn’t speak to him.

'Ruhleben Prison Camp: the queue for bread from Denmark', by Nico Jungman

British people in Germany were also affected. Thousands of men spent the war in Ruhleben, a civilian detention camp near Berlin. They included Eleanora Pemberton’s brother.

I always remember that in 1913 my brother was working in Germany, got engaged and was eventually married and was in England with his wife and baby from the autumn of 1913. He was working for the London Assurance Company and in July 1914, he and his wife and the baby and an English nurse and their furniture all went out to Hamburg. My poor brother spent the rest of the war at Ruhleben, he was interned of course. My sister in law, her parents were in Germany and so she lived with them while my brother was interned.

To find out more about First World War Centenary events, commemorations and more go to 1914.org. We’d really like to know what you think of these podcasts. Please rate us on iTunes, or leave a comment at 1914.org. Listen out for Podcast 5: Training for war.

The First World War bomb found in a garden in Somerset

What would you do if you unearthed a First World War bomb in your back garden? Although many people’s first reaction might be to panic or call the police, a resident of Burnham-on-Sea in Somerset, England decided to take the device he found to his local coastguard station.

The man found the 9 inch by 3 inch shell on 17 August while laying a new lawn at his home. Staff at the station immediately alerted the police, who in turn called in the Royal Logistic Corps.

Luckily, the bomb was found to be harmless – although it was in good condition and still had the remains of a fuse inside.

The First World War has been in other headlines this week. In Northern Ireland, on the weekend of 13-14 August, thousands of pounds worth of damage was inflicted to Belfast City Cemetery.

Vandals smashed the CWGC memorial, gravestones and a stone cross using either hammers or iron bars, and drew graffiti on a wall which features the names of those interred at the site. Some of the destruction has been cleaned up but it will take time and money to repair the cemetery, where almost 300 Commonwealth war dead from the First World War are buried.

Elsewhere in the UK and Ireland, however, work is underway to both enhance existing memorials and build new ones.

In Kent, England, the names of nearly 70 people who were killed in the First and Second World Wars are to be added to Saltwood village memorial. After three years of research and fundraising by a local team, the names will be engraved on new stone plaques.

The sinking of the Lusitania is depicted in this dramatic propaganda poster from 1915 © IWM

And in Kilkenny, Ireland the county council is unanimous in its support for a stone memorial to be built honouring the 900 men of the city who died in the First World War. Also, in North Lanarkshire, Scotland, 159 men from the Craigneuk area who were killed in the war have been remembered on an updated memorial outside the community’s library.

Meanwhile, a 96-year-old mystery may be about to be solved with help from a bronze telemotor and a telegraph needle.

A diving team has recovered the artefacts from the wreck of the RMS Lusitania, which lies 18 km off the coast of the Old Head of Kinsale, Co Cork, Ireland. It is hoped that they may reveal information about the final moments of the ship, which was torpedoed by a German U-boat on 7 May 1915.

The sinking resulted in huge loss of civilian life and became a great controversy of the First World War. The facts surrounding it are still unclear, making the new finds valuable evidence. For example, the salvaged telegraph needle would indicate in which direction the ship was heading.

You can learn more about the RMS Lusitania in this page from the IWM.

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Read all about it: First World War in the news

Although it is 97 years since the First World War began, its legacy is such that it is still regularly in the news. Here is a roundup of recent stories from around the world:

In Australia, the late First World War naval veteran Claude Choules has been remembered with the naming of a new warship. HMAS Choules was announced by Australian Prime Minister Julia Gillard in Sydney on 13 August.

Choules, who was born in Britain, passed away earlier this year. He was the last known combat veteran of the First World War and his naval service totalled 40 years.

Another piece of news from Australia is the claim by two authors that an ancient mosaic was ‘plundered’ from Gaza in 1917 by Anzac troops and taken back home with them.

Part of the controversial Byzantine Shellal Mosaic taken from Gaza in 1917

The Shellal Mosaic, created in AD 561, was removed during the Second Battle of Gaza in April 1917. The controversy centres on whether or not it was illegally seized and if it should be returned.

In Buffalo, New York, a ceremony was held in honour of First World War marine Russell Tucker. On 13 August, his 80-year-old son, Russell Tucker Jr., accepted a Purple Heart posthumously awarded to his father for his wartime service.

Tucker Sr., born in England, was badly wounded during the Battle of Belleau Wood in June 1918. Despite his injuries, he engaged in fierce hand-to-hand combat which helped to drive German forces back. His proud son said he had never spoken about his experiences, and gladly accepted the military honour on his behalf.

Meanwhile, in the Forth estuary, Scotland, two wrecked submarines that have lain on the seabed since 1918 have been precisely located and pictured for the first time.

On the night of 31 January-1 February 1918, a series of accidents resulted in two submarines being sunk near the Isle of May. The catastrophe cost 270 men their lives. Although it was later known as the Battle of May Island, there were no enemy ships present.

The vessels – HMS K17 and HMS K4 – have been pinpointed in sonar images as part of a survey of the Forth estuary by marine archaeologists. They will now be protected under law from an offshore wind farm being planned in the area.

Noel Chavasse

“I do not intend to run any risk at all, unnecessarily; my blood is not heroic.”

These were the words of Noel Chavasse about his role as a regimental doctor attached to the 10th Battalion, King’s (Liverpool Regiment), known as the Liverpool Scottish.

Alhtough he did not think of himself as heroic, this modest young man went on to earn the Victoria Cross not once, but twice, during the First World War.

He was one of only three men who earned a VC, the highest award for bravery, on two separate occasions and was the only one to do so during the years 1914-18.

Now, he has been honoured in his home city of Liverpool with a new memorial to his selfless wartime service.

The steel memorial was unveiled at a ceremony attended by over 100 people, including veterans and several of Chavasse’s descendents. The contemporary structure – which stands, appropriately, in the city’s Chavasse Park – is engraved with phrases relating to Chavasse and his acts of bravery.

Born in 1884, Noel and his twin brother, Christopher, were sons of the Bishop of Liverpool and grew up with a strong sense of duty to others. Noel qualified as a doctor in 1912.

Upon the outbreak of war, he was mobilised with his regiment. He was first recognised for his devotion to duty at Ypres in June 1915 when he earned a Military Cross for helping wounded men under persistent fire.

The new memorial in Liverpool’s Chavasse Park

Noel Chavasse’s two VC-earning acts of bravery happened in August 1916 and July 1917 respectively.

On both occasions, he ignored extreme danger and increasing exhaustion to tend wounded men lying on the battlefield.

Sadly, Chavasse died from wounds on 4 August 1917; his devastated comrades attended his funeral in large numbers. His second VC was awarded posthumously.

The new Chavasse memorial is not the only monument in Liverpool to be dedicated to the double-VC recipient. In 2008, a bronze statue was unveiled, commemorating Chavasse and 15 other VCs from the city.

Chavasse’s great nephew, David Watson said that the newest memorial is a ‘great pride and treasure’ to his family.

Chavasse’s VC and Bar are on display at IWM London in The Lord Ashcroft Gallery: Extraordinary Heroes.

Here is the third in a series of podcasts that delve into the IWM Sound Archive to bring you the voices of those who lived through the First World War. Find out what a huge range of people felt, experienced and witnessed between 1914-1918 – and the impact the events of those years had on their lives.

Podcast 3: Joining up

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Transcript

Suddenly everybody’s sons and brothers and husbands were soldiers. And a song seemed to rise, ‘Tipperary’, which they all sang and whistled as they marched…

The iconic Kitchener recruitment poster that Irving Jones couldn't avoid

When war broke out in August 1914, Britain’s regular army numbered only 250,000. A recruitment campaign was immediately launched to swell the ranks. Irving Jones, from near Caerphilly in south Wales, clearly remembered the effect such propaganda had on him.

The only thing I can remember so well about it is Kitchener’s picture, large pictures, put all around every hall, or outside each hall. And it was pointing to, ‘We want you!’ And he was always pointing at me. Whenever I passed it; that was the idea. The artist had that in view. Whoever looked at that picture would think that it was pointing at… And I always used to think ‘He’s pointing at me!’ ‘We want you!’ And it was in my mind all the time. I was only a kid but I was an adult I think in my thinking at that time.

It wasn’t just posters that had an effect on the young men of Britain. The new medium of film was also used to encourage them to do their patriotic duty, as William Dove recalled.

War had been declared and the following Sunday I went with a friend of mine into Shepherd’s Bush Empire to see the picture show there and at the end of the show they showed the fleet sailing the high seas and played ‘Britons Never Shall Be Slaves’ and ‘Hearts of Oak’, and you know one feels that little shiver run up their back and you know you’ve got to do something. I was just turned 17 at the time and on the Monday I went up to Whitehall, Old Scotland Yard, and enlisted in the 16th Lancers.

Pressure to join up didn’t always result in young men enlisting. William Berry, 18 at the time, was prevented by his parents from signing up.

William Berry was a stores clerk living in Purley, London when war broke out

There were a lot of posters up with Kitchener with a finger pointing, ‘Kitchener Wants You’. There was all the recruiting meetings in Trafalgar Square. There were also recruiting sergeants who stopped you in the street and I was quite frequently stopped. ‘A young fellow like you, why aren’t you in the Army?’ sort of business. That was the general line, which was quite true and I resented it very much because I really wanted to volunteer. I wanted to go, but my parents weren’t very amenable.

Another tactic for persuading potential soldiers to enlist was to give them a white feather, marking them out as a coward. For Norman Demuth, who was only 16, it was particularly unfair.

I was given a white feather when I was 16, just after I’d left school. I was looking in a shop window and I suddenly felt somebody press something into my hand and I found it was a woman giving me a white feather. For the moment I was so astonished I didn’t know what to do about it. But I had been trying to persuade the doctors and recruiting officers that I was 19 and not 16 and I thought, well this must give me some added bounce because I must look the part and so I really went round to the recruiting offices with renewed zeal.

The effects of the recruiting drive were soon felt. Londoner Olive Finch describes what she witnessed.

A crowd of new recruits wait for their pay in the churchyard of St Martin in the Fields, London, August 1914

War broke out. One night it was declared, and it seemed as though the world had come to an end. And suddenly everybody’s sons and brothers and husbands were soldiers. And suddenly there were crowds of men rushing to enlist and hoards of men tramping along the streets in platoons and on top of trams. And a song seemed to rise, Tipperary, which they all sang and whistled as they marched.

There were similar scenes in Germany, as Gustav Lachman recollects.

When the great earthquake came in 1914 – that is when the Great War broke out – a tremendous surge of national emotion swept the countries of Europe. And on that wave I was also carried. And I joined a Hessian cavalry regiment as a volunteer. The 24th Hessian Life Dragoons.

The reasons behind each man’s enlistment varied. For some, such as Helen Wedgwood’s father, Liberal MP Josiah Wedgwood, it was a sense of duty.

First of all he opposed the war, in his first speech. And then father wrote that he was enlisting at once. He went to Churchill and got Churchill to put him into the armoured cars which was the Royal Naval Division. He was not only overage but he was an MP! So there was no call on him to go. But he said afterwards – well the whole of the war – that they ought to start by taking the over-40s because they’ve had their life.

For others, like S G Little, it was a mixture of peer pressure – and a bit of Dutch courage.

I joined up on the 8th August 1914 after a night out with the boys and we all decided to enlist the next day cos there was appeals on the 7th. In the morning they retracted but I went on. I came up to London and enlisted at Scotland Yard on the 8th August. Got there about 10. There was a queue right up to Whitehall one side and Northumberland Avenue the other. I queued up, not feeling too good, I think I fell out and had a Scotch during the day. I got in front of the doctors about four o’clock in the afternoon and about four or five of us were sworn in together.

Although there was a minimum age of 19 for fighting with the Army overseas, this was not always enforced. Bill Haine’s friend had already joined the Honourable Artillery Company and managed to get him past the queue and straight to the recruiting officer.

Bill Haine was an underage recruit. He went on to earn a Victoria Cross in 1917.

So I went right up to the front and into the gates where I was met by a sergeant major at a desk. And my friend, he introduced me to the sergeant and the sergeant said ‘Are you willing to join?’ I said ‘Yes, sir’. He said ‘Well, how old are you?’ I said ‘I’m 18 and one month’. He said ‘Do you mean 19 and one month?’ So I thought a moment: I said ‘Yes, sir’. He said ‘Right-O, well, sign here please’.

In the case of Raynor Taylor’s brother, enlistment did not mean a guaranteed place in the Army.

I had a brother, I had a brother did it very early on. The problem we had at our house when he did it! He joined up in August. Now in Ashton under Lyne, it was a garrison town and the soldiers were principally noted for drunkenness and brawling at Saturday night. And my mother were born in Ashton under Lyne and she were brought up with a feeling of revulsion against soldiers. And when one of her lads comes home and said they’d joined the Army, oh, I thought my brother broke her heart! Dear, dear, dear. And me dad talked him out of it. He said, ‘Don’t go lad.’

The scene at the Whitehall Recruiting Office, London where Keele, Dove and Little all signed up

Eagerness to enlist sometimes resulted in men joining the wrong regiment. Tommy Keele had been a jockey and was keen to join a horse regiment.

I hadn’t been in Whitehall five minutes before I was grabbed on by a recruiting sergeant. He said, ‘Hello sonny, are you going to join the Army?’ I said ‘Well I’ve come down to have a look at it; yes I might join the Army’. ‘What do you want to join?’ ‘Light infantry.’ ‘Right this way sonny Jim, sign here.’ I said, ‘This is a horse regiment isn’t it?’ ‘Oh, no! It’s light infantry, with march at 120 to the second. No, this is a marching regiment.’ ‘No’ I said, ‘not me.’ I’d never done any marching, I’d been a jockey. So I left him, I wouldn’t sign the paper, I went out. But I was grabbed very quickly by another recruiting sergeant. And again, ‘What are you going to do, son, you going to join the Army?’ I said ‘Well I nearly joined just now but I found out it was a foot regiment and I didn’t want that.’ I said ‘I have been a jockey and a trick rider and a show-jumper and what not and I know all about horses including doctoring of horses so that’s what I want to join.’ ‘Ah, horses’ he says, ‘yes, hmm, the Middlesex Regiment.’ I said, ‘Horses?’ He said ‘Lovely horses.’ Do you know, for the first year in the flaming army I don’t think I ever saw a horse. It was a foot regiment, again. I was hooked into that. And I would have loved for many years afterwards to have met that recruiting sergeant again who said ‘Lovely horses.’

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J K Rowling was awarded a French Légion d’honneur in 2009 and previously thought her great-grandfather had also received the decoration.

World-famous Harry Potter author J K Rowling was awarded a Légion d’honneur by French president Nicolas Sarkozy in 2009 for her services to literature. At the time, she remarked upon the interesting link to her family’s history: her French great-grandfather, Louis Volant, had also earned the medal in 1924.

But further research into her past for the BBC series ‘Who Do You Think You Are?’ has now revealed that her ancestor was a different Louis Volant. And, although he also fought during the First World War, he did not receive the coveted decoration for his service.

Rowling’s mother Anne Volant, who died in 1990, had been hugely interested in her French family but had never fully researched them. The author’s decision to take part in the programme was motivated by this.

In an increasingly emotional journey, Rowling discovered that war hero Volant was not part of her lineage. Records show that he was mobilised on 2 August 1914 and served first with 108 Territorial Infantry Regiment (RIT) and later the 252 RIT.

Volant was wounded and evacuated from the front line three times. He was injured while carrying grenades to besieged troops near Verdun in June 1916. It was this act of bravery that earned him his Légion d’honneur.

During her speech on receiving her own award in 2009, J K Rowling said that her work was incomparable to the sacrifices of Volant’s generation. She also spoke of her pride in his achievements, so her emotional reaction to hearing they were not related is understandable.

Despite this disappointment, she has said that she does not regret taking part in the genealogy show, as it fulfilled her wish to find out about her French ancestry.

“There were a lot of big surprises, some wonderful, and one rather upsetting. However, I went into the programme wanting the truth, no matter what it was.”

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Lieutenant William Hicks

Lieutenant William Hicks, from Sevenoaks in Kent, was like many other First World War soldiers. In 1916, he left a fiancée and comfortable home life behind to fight for his country. The following July, he was killed in action and his name was added to his hometown’s war memorial.

Now, William Hicks is being remembered in a new exhibition at the Sevenoaks Kaleidoscope Gallery. Artist Jane Churchill was inspired by objects in the Kaleidoscope Museum’s collections to create an installation that tells Hicks’s war story.

In Surviving Objects [all that remains], Jane has used the artefacts to build up a picture of what William Hicks was like, and what experiences he had as a frontline soldier.

The result is an intriguing mixture of fact and imagination, where artistic creativity fills the gaps in the historical narrative.

For example, an autograph book that Hicks owned, signed by him and all his friends, is on display, as are news cuttings about his activities as a member of the Sevenoaks community.

Alongside these original artefacts are sculptures, designs and drawings that build on what is known to tell a story of what might have been.

The installation based on the life of Kent soldier William Hicks. Desolated trees weighed down by sandbags are imagined remnants of the Western Front.

Hicks’s story is still incomplete, and Jane hopes to gain more information about his life from the local community.

Some aspects are known – for example, he was the headmaster of a local school and founder of the 1st Sevenoaks Scout group.

He joined the Royal Field Artillery in 1916 and was gazetted as an officer in the Royal Garrison Artillery in November that year. He died aged 35 on 3 July 1917 and is buried at Barlin Communal Cemetery, France.

Hicks was engaged to be married, but little is known of his fiancée, Jessie Ellman. She also features in the exhibit, representative of those on the Home Front who anxiously awaited news from the battlefields.

To find out more about the exhibition, visit the website.

The memorial unveiling was led by Steve Jenkins, deputy chairman of Leyton Orient Supporters Club, who has kindly provided photos from the trip

A recruitment poster encouraging men to join the Football Battalion © Imperial War Museum

A new memorial has been unveiled at Flers, on the Somme, to commemorate the sacrifices of Clapton Orient Football Club during the First World War.

The granite monument was financed by donations from supporters of Leyton Orient FC, which Clapton Orient is now called. Around 200 club supporters travelled to northern France to witness its dedication.

Local residents turned out for the ceremony, which featured prayers, a pipe band and a wreath-laying. A piece of pitch from the team ground at Leyton was also planted at the site.

The memorial features the club crest, as well as a carved football and football boots, and is engraved with the names of three Clapton Orient players who lost their lives during the Battle of the Somme in 1916.

Richard McFadden, William Jonas and George Scott were all star players with Clapton Orient who signed up to serve with the 17th Battalion, Middlesex Regiment, which became known as the ‘Footballers’ Battalion’.

The club supporters went to all three of their graves during their visit, to lay wreaths and pay their respects.

The grave of Richard McFadden, who served as a company serjeant major with the Football Battalion.

The decision by clubs to continue with the football season after war broke out drew criticism from those who felt their young, healthy players should instead be fighting for their country. The FA eventually bowed to pressure and allowed professional footballers to be released from their contracts, so that they could join up.

Richard McFadden was with William Jonas when he was killed, and later wrote a letter home detailing his last words:

Both Willie and I were trapped in a trench near the front in Somme, France. Willie turned to me and said, ‘Goodbye Mac. Best of luck, special love to my sweetheart Mary-Jane and best regards to the lads at Orient.’ Before I could reply to him, he was up and over. No sooner had he jumped out of the trench, my best friend of nearly 20 years was killed before my eyes.

There is more information about football during the war available online. Walter Tull was a centre forward for Tottenham Hotspur who overcame racism to become an officer. There is a great online resource about his wartime experience.

And the CWGC has put together a  ‘Hall of Fame’ about football during the First World War.

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The ‘Cobbers Memorial’ near Fromelles

For thousands of men at Fromelles 95 years ago today, their first taste of battle was also to be their last. Over 5,500 Australian soldiers became casualties in a battle that was as seemingly pointless as it was bloody.

Alongside their British allies, men of the Australian 5th Division were sent over the top at Fromelles, northern France, just a few days after arriving on the Western Front in July 1916. The assault, on a German strongpoint, was intended as a diversion to draw German troops away from the Somme offensive to the south. The attack failed and huge losses were sustained.

19 July 1916 has since come to be regarded as the single worst day in Australia’s military history. Today, the sacrifice of those who fell in the action at Fromelles is being remembered.

At Pheasant Wood Military Cemetery on the outskirts of Fromelles, a ceremony will be held to dedicate 14 new headstones marking the remains of Australian soldiers recently recovered from the battlefield.

“The battalions who went over met with too hot a reception and suffered severely; the distance was too far: high explosives and shrapnel were flying everywhere”

Corporal Sidney Green, 59 Battalion Australian Infantry, killed at Fromelles on 19 July 1916. © IWM

And in Melbourne, Victoria, crowds gathered to pay their respects to the fallen of Fromelles. In a ceremony, wreaths and poppies were laid and public figures spoke of the importance of commemorating those who lost their lives.

A number of mass graves behind the old German lines at Fromelles were identified in 2008.

Following a detailed excavation, the bodies of 250 British and Australian soldiers were reburied at Pheasant Wood cemetery in 2010.

Personal items that belonged to those who died were also recovered by archaeologists.

Over 6,000 artefacts were found, including a page from a Bible, with words underlined, and the unused half of a return rail ticket from Fremantle to Perth.

The new 'In Memoriam 2014' project

Plaques, crosses, gates, windows, chapels and gardens: the estimated 100,000 war memorials in the UK can take many different forms. But they all fulfil one important task – ensuring that the names of those who died in war are remembered.

The mass loss of life in the First World War led to a sharp rise in the number of war memorials across Great Britain. In recent times, however, the memorials have increasingly come under threat. There have been instances of vandalism and of metal plaques being sold for scrap.

Now, a new project has been launched to preserve these valuable reminders of wartime sacrifice. ‘In Memoriam 2014’ aims to locate, record and protect thousands of war memorials across Britain in the run up to the centenary of the First World War.

The project is very well-timed. Earlier this month, two men were convicted of trying to sell a bronze plaque engraved with the names of 57 people killed by German bombing raids in Grangetown, Sunderland.

The war memorial at Burwash, Sussex. It includes the name of Rudyard Kipling’s son, Jack, who was killed at Loos in 1915 ©Imperial War Museum

The men had come across the plaque, which had been ripped from the wall of a chapel in the town, and decided to turn their find into profit. It was only after the scrap dealer they had taken it to for valuing took a closer look at it that their crime was discovered.

Other attacks on war memorials have also made the news recently, in particular the damage to the Cenotaph in London’s Whitehall during the university fees protests in November 2010. Memorials in Mansfield, Nottinghamshire and Wirral, Merseyside have also been vandalised.

The ‘In Memoriam 2014’ scheme will use a modern forensic technique to prevent further damage to war memorials. A type of crime prevention fluid will be applied to the memorials, making each one uniquely identifiable and protecting the metal from vandalism.

It is hoped that local community and youth groups will help in the project, leading to better care and conservation of these vital pieces of Britain’s history.

Find out more about ‘In Memoriam 2014′ here.

The famous front page of The Times on 5 August 1914 had the only news story of that day

Imperial War Museum’s Voices of the First World War

Here is the second in a series of podcasts that delve into the IWM’s Sound Archive to bring you the voices of those who lived through the First World War. Find out what a huge range of people felt, experienced and witnessed between 1914-1918 – and the impact the events of those years had on their lives.

Podcast 2. Outbreak: 4 August 1914

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Transcript

…and in that case was a white suit, with blood all over it. And he said to us, he said, ‘Ship’s company! This is war’.

After weeks of speculation and mounting tension, Great Britain declared war on Germany on 4 August 1914. In this podcast, you’ll hear how people reacted to this news.

Charles Chabot was in Bangkok, Thailand and seated amongst French and German rugby players when the news of war was announced

Charles Chabot was living in Bangkok, Thailand and was unsure about how to react.

We’d been playing a series of rugby football games and as a final game of the session the Germans had challenged the rest, and this was to be followed by dinner at the German Club. We were all seated around the table, mixed up obviously, there was a German here and next to him there was an Englishman and next to him there was a German and next to him there was a Frenchman and so on, and so on, and we were starting the rugby football dinner, and it was very like other rugby football dinners have been from time immemorial. A bang at the door, and a runner from the French Embassy with the extraordinary news of outbreak of war… None of the chaps here had ever seen a declaration of war before, we didn’t know what we ought to do, whether we ought to seize a knife off the table and plunge it into the next chap or what! But after a little bit of discussion we decided that as far as we were concerned the war was going to start tomorrow and it wasn’t going to start tonight, and the party proceeded and that was that.

The 4th of August 1914 was a Tuesday. It followed a bank holiday weekend when many people went away. Fourteen year old Arthur Tevendale was in East Sussex.

I remember so well that the one and only hotel at Rottingdean they had a waiter or somebody who was a German. And when the news came through by telephone to say that war had been declared against Germany, I can see him now rushing out into the road there and wringing his hands and in his guttural English saying, ‘It is madness!’ He was really shocked.

Frederick Holmes was 17 when he heard of the outbreak during a carefree holiday.

I was on the river, boating. The River Nairn at Northampton, it was a favourite place for boating. And we were there when we heard from the river bank that war had broken out. Well, I was with two other fellows on the boat and oh, I think we were all excited and we anticipated we may have a go!

Elizabeth Lee, who was 22, hardly gave the news of war a second thought.

At the particular day when war was declared, I was on holiday, lots of people were on holiday – and it came suddenly. I was away staying with some friends and it was on the newspaper placards when Dad came home at night and he said, ‘War has been declared on Germany!’ People who followed politics of course expected it, but I don’t think I bothered much about it; you don’t when you’re young and having a good time!

Angela Limerick was among the crowds of people who cheered King George V and Queen Mary – and the news of war – at Buckingham Palace

In London, there were scenes of patriotic enthusiasm when people realised they were at war. Angela Limerick, a teenager at the time, remembers what she witnessed.

It was all very unreal of course, I mean all very exciting. I remember when war was declared going outside Buckingham Palace and cheering with all the crowds as the king and queen came out on the balcony and being frightfully excited and thinking it was splendid that we were going into the war and all the rest of it – so different from the outbreak of the last world war, where there was none of that.

In Leeds, too, the reaction was overwhelmingly positive, as Horace Calvert, a 14 year old from the city, describes.

It was a lovely August 4th morning. I was going from home to work for seven o’clock. As I got to the end of Richmond Road, there was a newsagent’s shop and outside was a big placard, ‘War Declared on Germany’. In the evening I went to Bellevue Barracks. There were crowds round there, everybody was excited. It was very patriotic, songs and singing and all that – ‘Rule Britannia’.

In some cases, the patriotism spilled over into acts of violence against German businesses. George Wilkinson describes two such instances in County Durham:

In one part of Crook where we lived there was some German butchers there and people went and had a riot and smashed their windows and smashed them up and so forth, I remember that quite plain. And there was another butcher who’d been supplying, they went and smashed his as well because he’d supplied this German butcher with meat. Which was just idiocy.

Percy Snelling, a trooper in the 12th Royal Lancers when war broke out, was pleased with the news

For members of the armed forces, war meant a chance to put all their training into practice. Percy Snelling was a trooper in the 12th Royal Lancers.

We were delighted. We had been preparing for the previous fortnight for the annual cavalry manoeuvres which would take us down into the south of Salisbury Plain. And it wasn’t so very popular. And when we heard that war was declared, everybody was delighted. And we thought it far more amusing to go and see some part of the continent than to go on manoeuvres. Literally cheers went up from each side of the barrack square, from the men, when somebody gave out that war was declared.

It was the same for Britain’s new enemy, as German naval officer Lieutenant Commander Dehn explains.

We didn’t know until the last moment whether or not England would come in, but we were not surprised when we heard this news. And we took it up very, very cheerfully, because after all if you are a commissioned officer in the forces you don’t want to drill all the time and learn, you want to show what you’ve learnt. On the other hand we fully realised that the size of the German fleet was practically nothing in comparison with the almighty British fleet.

A member of that fleet, William Vorstius of HMS Antrim, was told of the outbreak of war in a very sobering way.

In the morning our admiral, Admiral Sir Charles Madden, he had everybody brought up and he said to us about the war being declared. And he had with him – I’ll always remember it – a case. And in that case was a white suit, with blood all over it. And he said to us, he said, ‘Ship’s company! This is war’. Not what we’d been doing, playing around, he said, ‘This is war’. He said, ‘I was wearing this when several men was killed’ – he was in the Japanese war.

Not all servicemen realised the outbreak would affect them. Private Maydwell, who later fought in France and Belgium, was at Krugersdorp, South Africa when he heard.

I remember we was on manoeuvres at Krugersdorp and I was walking down the road in the cool of the evening, relaxing, when a motor driver came along all grim and dirty with sand, ‘Can you direct me to brigade headquarters? England’s at war with Germany’. Well I told him where to go, but the fact that England was at war with Germany didn’t convey a thing because 7,000 miles away meant that we shouldn’t become involved. 

Even those who were children at the time of the outbreak clearly remembered their feelings that day. Heinrich Beutow was a schoolboy in Germany.

I was in a small German garrison town in 1914 and I remember very well the tremendous enthusiasm. Of course, we schoolboys were all indoctrinated with great patriotism when war broke out. My father was an active infantry officer and I shall never forget the day when they marched out to the trains. All the soldiers were decorated with flowers, there was no gun which didn’t show a flower – even the horses I think were decorated. And of course all the people followed them. There were bands playing, flags flying, and a terrific sort of overwhelming conviction that of course Germany now would go into war and win it very quickly.

I’m Nigel Steel, Historian at the Imperial War Museum. To mark the centenary of the outbreak of the First World War in 2014, we will be bringing you a series of podcasts that reveal the impact the war had on everyone who lived through it. Each episode will feature the authentic and diverse voices of those who were there.

To find out more about First World War Centenary events, commemorations and more go to 1914.org.

Listen out for Podcast 3: Joining up.

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