by Simon Fowler
Still later wrote a book about his experiences as a prisoner of war: Prisoner of the Turks (1920), which remains one of the few accounts of the treatment of POWs in the Middle East.
Further Reading
Sarah Paterson, Tracing Your First World War Prisoners of War (Pen & Sword, 2012).
PENSIONS
Widows and disabled ex-servicemen were entitled to claim a pension. Much ill-feeling was created by the low level of the pension and the difficulties placed in the way of claimants by the government and local officials supervising the grant of awards. Most records have long since been destroyed. However, series PIN 82 at Kew contains an 8 per cent sample of widows’ and dependents’ papers arranged in alphabetical order. The forms give personal details of each serviceman’s name, place of residence, particulars of service and the date, place and cause of death or injury. They also give details of the assessment of, and entitlement to, pension awards, the amount awarded, and the length of time for which the award was granted.
There is a set of post-war pension appeal records at the National Records of Scotland (www.nrscotland.gov.uk) in series PT6. The records contain detailed pension applications from thousands of Scottish soldiers and their next of kin (usually widows).
The Western Front Association (WFA) recently rescued a series of pension cards relating to the granting of pensions and other payments to soldiers and their dependents. As with all records from the First World War, the content varies greatly between individuals but you may expect to find material about the individual and his family as well as the reason why payments were made. At present the records are being indexed by the Association, but they will do look-ups for enquirers for a small fee. You can find out more at www.westernfrontassociation.com/great-war-current-news/pension-records.html.
PERSONAL PAPERS AND EFFECTS
Soldiers (and indeed for that matter sailors and airmen) wrote about their experiences at the time in letters and diaries, and perhaps in old age they wrote up their memoirs. An increasing number are appearing in print or on websites. That they did this is not surprising: they were witnessing events unique in human history.
There was a very efficient postal service during the war. Most soldiers took advantage of this to write regular letters home. Because of official censorship and the soldiers’ own desire not to frighten their families, such letters tend to be fairly anodyne, reassuring the reader that they were well, perhaps indicating that they were safe behind the lines, and often asking for items to be sent out. In general they are not great works of literature, but even so after nearly a century they are treasured family heirlooms.
Neither officers nor men were allowed to keep diaries, although clearly many did. Some were just simple entries about the weather and unit locations in a pocket diary, while others were much more elaborate affairs, such as the one kept by New Zealander Gunner Ralph Doughty. On 6 June, for example, he wrote:
9 am. Another good old go yesterday. Mechinson, Shepherd, Moore, Archer and Lee casualties. Their heavy guns played havoc amongst our troops. Firing on and off all night. Rec. a paper from C.A. Some of our boys rec. boxes of sweets etc. while Rowlings (Motueka) rec. a xmas cake while someone else had a bottle of wine. GREAT FEAST. Very rowdy morning. Got action before breakfast and kept a warm fire for an hour. Immediately afterwards got to it hot and strong. Our gun was detailed to keep reinforcements from getting to the firing line, via a small nullah [ravine]. And it did. We just waited for them to come over the far crest and they got it. We had them on toast alright. Couldn’t advance or retreat and our guns cut off flanking movements by spraying each side with shrapnel. The only thing for them to do was to take cover in a bit of light scrub which they did and we got on to that scrub and searched every inch of it for 2 solid hours. I’ve just been to the observation station and had a look at it with the glasses. Not a man came out of it alive. The ground is packed thickly with them. Our Colonel, Major and a few more odds and ends performed the tango with great gusto. I am as deaf as a mule in the right ear and both hands burnt a bit. We’re having another go in a few minutes. Our Asiatic friends are paying particular ‘H’ just now, with their big mobile siege guns, one shell has landed 100 away, can’t see anything for smoke. Shook the ground like an earthquake. Gnr Sanderson badly wounded. Fighting all night. [Ralph Doughty diaries, www.thekivellfamily.co.nz/military_history/ralphs_diaries/transcribes/diary_one_p5.html. Also quoted in Peter Hart, Gallipoli.]
Memoirs are also important. Some are based on diaries and letters or correspondence with old comrades, while others were clearly written decades later for the grandchildren or to lay old ghosts to rest. There are many accounts of the Gallipoli campaign which have been mined by writers like Peter Hart and Lyn Macdonald to bring their books alive.
In some cases there will be no memoirs at all, except perhaps some vague family stories, while others may have collections of medals, army service discharge papers, pay books and photographs. If you have such a collection it is well worth considering donating it to the Imperial War Museum or a local record office or regimental archive. They may be willing to give you a set of copies in return for the originals. Certainly you should think about making some provision for their care in your will.
There is no central list of what personal papers are to be found where, although it is worth checking the National Register of Archives to see whether a collection of papers has been identified (www.nationalarchives.gov.uk/nra).
The Imperial War Museum has the most important collections of personal papers. They are described in the Museum’s catalogue at www.iwm.org.uk/collections/search.
Another important resource is the Liddle Collection at Leeds University’s Brotherton Library, with over 4,000 collections of private papers: http://library.leeds.ac.uk/liddle-collection.
The Liddell Hart Archives at King’s College (www.kcl.ac.uk/library/collections/archivespec/index.aspx) has papers for many former senior soldiers and sailors, including those of Sir Ian Hamilton. There is a list of their holdings for the First World War at www.kcl.ac.uk/library/collections/archivespec/catalogues/WorldWarOneguide01.aspx. Apart from a collection of photographs found in Sir Ian’s papers there is little online.
Regimental archives and the National Army Museum are also good sources. The Royal Artillery Archives in Woolwich, for example, contains much for the First World War, particularly for officers. In addition, small collections can sometimes be found at local record offices.
Lastly, an increasing number of diaries and memoirs in particular are being published or are appearing online, such as Ralph Doughty’s diary quoted above. Pen & Sword has published well over a hundred such memoirs, which you can buy direct at www.pen-and-sword.co.uk. Many others are available from the Naval & Military Press (www.naval-military-press.com).
The Imperial War Museum and other museums have impressive collections of ephemera, which in the case of the IWM itself can be seen in its online catalogue. Much of it is displayed in the new galleries at the Museum’s London site.
A fascinating Europe-wide initiative to collect personal items from each of the participating nations, including letters, diaries, photographs and ephemera, is being collated by Europeana at www.europeana1914-1918.eu/en. It is a collection that deserves to be better known. Several hundred items relate to Gallipoli. The vast majority are from the UK and Ireland, but there is also material from France, Germany and Turkey. In addition, it is possible to search similar projects in Australia and New Zealand.
OTHER USEFUL GENEALOGICAL RECORDS
It is easy to overlook the basic genealogical sources of birth, marriage and death records, census returns and wills in researching soldiers, but they are also worth checking out. And, of course, many researchers first become aware of having military ancestors from an entry in the census or on a marriage certificate. Most of these records are now available online.
THE CENSUS
Census records are an important source for family history, often revealing unique informatio
n about ancestors. In particular, because it was taken so close to the outbreak of the war, the 1911 census is a key source. The English and Welsh census is available through Findmypast and Ancestry. The Scottish 1911 census is at Scotlands People (www.scotlandspeople.gov.uk) and the Irish census is at www.census.nationalarchives.ie. The information in all three censuses is almost identical and they are fully indexed so it is easy to find an ancestor in it.
The 1911 census is unique for another reason. For the first time servicemen (and their families) serving overseas in both the navy and army were recorded, giving their name, age, rank and place of birth. Of particular interest are the returns for army wives and children. This is the first census for which such records exist. To access the military returns in the appropriate box on the search screen tick ‘Overseas military’.
There are no Australian or New Zealand equivalents.
BIRTH, MARRIAGE AND DEATH CERTIFICATES
National registration began in England and Wales on 1 July 1837 (Scotland 1855, Ireland 1864) and the system has remained largely unchanged since then. You can order certificates for men who were killed in action or died of wounds during the war, but there is little point, as they won’t tell you anything you don’t know already.
English and Welsh certificates can be ordered online at www.gro.gov.uk/gro/content/certificates/default.asp or by phone on 0300 123 1837. Scottish records are all online through Scotland’s People. Indexes to Irish births, marriages and deaths for the period (both North and South) are available through FamilySearch (www.familysearch.org), but you have to order the certificates from the General Register Office for Ireland (www.groireland.ie).
Also of interest are Chaplains’ Returns and Army Register Books recording births, baptisms, marriages, deaths and burials of soldiers and their families at home and abroad. Indexes are at www.findmypast.com and at The National Archives in Kew.
WILLS
It was natural for soldiers to make their wills before going into action. Indeed, the army pay book, which was issued to all soldiers, included a simple will form that could be completed. Generally any possessions were left to the individual’s wife or next of kin.
There may well be papers about wills and the disposal of personal effects in the files of individual officers and soldiers.
Details of wills proved in the Principal Probate Registry were published in the National Probate Calendars. The Calendars are online at Ancestry. Wills themselves cost £10 (at time of writing) and can be ordered by post from the Leeds District Probate Registry, York House, 31 York Place, Leeds LS1 2BA.
In addition, the Probate Registry has released details of some 200,000 wills that were made by soldiers in the field. There is an index at www.gov.uk/probate-search. You can order copies online for £10 each.
The National Records of Scotland has a collection of 26,000 wills for Scottish soldiers, which are available through the Scotlands People website. The Irish National Archives has some 9,000 wills available at http://soldierswills.nationalarchives.ie/search/sw/home.jsp.
LANDING ON GALLIPOLI
In this extract from his first novel The Secret Battle (1919), Sir Alan Herbert describes the landing of a battalion on Gallipoli a few weeks after the landings on 25 April. Sir Alan served in the Royal Naval Division.
The sun went down, and soon it was very cold in the sweeper: and in each man’s heart I think there was a certain chill. There were no more songs, but the men whispered in small groups, or stood silent, shifting uneasily their wearisome packs. For now we were indeed cut off from civilization and committed to the unknown. The transport we had left seemed a very haven of comfort and security; one thought longingly of white tables in the saloon, and the unfriendly linen bags of bully beef and biscuits we carried were concrete evidence of a new life. The war seemed no longer remote, and each of us realized indignantly that we were personally involved in it. So for a little all these soldiers had a period of serious thought unusual in the soldier’s life.
But as we neared the Peninsula the excitement and novelty and the prospect of exercising cramped limbs brought back valour and cheerfulness. At Malta we had heard many tales of the still terrifying ordeal of landing under fire.
But such terrors were not for us. There was a bright moon, and as we saw the pale cliffs of Cape Helles, all, I think, expected each moment a torrent of shells from some obscure quarter. But instead an unearthly stillness brooded over the two bays, and only a Morse lamp blinking at the sweeper suggested that any living thing was there. And there came over the water a strange musty smell; some said it was the smell of the dead, and some the smell of an incinerator; myself I do not know, but it was the smell of the Peninsula, which no man can forget.
We disembarked at a pier of rafts by the River Clyde, and stumbled eagerly ashore. And now we were in the very heart of heroic things. Nowhere, I think, was the new soldier plunged so suddenly into the genuine scenes of war as he was at Gallipoli; in France there was a long transition of training-camps and railway trains and billets, and he moved by easy gradations to the firing-line. But here, a few hours after a night in linen sheets, we stood suddenly on the very sand where, but three weeks before, those hideous machine-guns in the cliffs had mown down that astonishing party of April 25. And in that silver stillness it was difficult to believe. We stumbled off up the steady slope between two cliffs, marvelling that any men could have prevailed against so perfect a field of fire.
By now we were very tired, and it was heavy work labouring through the soft sand. Queer, Moorish-looking figures in white robes peered at us from dark corners, and here and there a man poked a tousled head from a hole in the ground, and blinked upon our progress. Someone remarked that it reminded him of nothing so much as the native camp at Earl’s Court on a fine August evening, and that indeed was the effect. After a little the stillness was broken by a sound which we could not conceal from ourselves was the distant rattle of musketry; somewhere a gun fired startlingly; and now as we went each man felt vaguely that at any minute we might be plunged into the thick of battle, laden as we were, and I think each man braced himself for a desperate struggle. Such is the effect of marching in the dark to an unknown destination.
Soon we were halted in a piece of apparently waste land circled by trees, and ordered to dig ourselves a habitation at once, for ‘in the morning’ it was whispered ‘the Turks search all this ground’. Everything was said in a kind of hoarse, mysterious whisper, presumably to conceal our observations from the ears of the Turks five miles away. But then we did not know they were five miles away; we had no idea where they were or where we were ourselves. Men glanced furtively at the North Star for guidance, and were pained to find that, contrary to their military teaching, it told them nothing. Even the digging was carried on a little stealthily till it was discovered that the Turks were not behind those trees.
The digging was a comfort to the men, who being pitmen, were now in their element; and the officers found solace in whispering to each other that magical communication about the prospective ‘searching’; it was the first technical word they had used in the field, and they were secretly proud to know what it meant.
In a little the dawn began, and the grey trees took shape; and the sun came up out of Asia, and we saw at last the little sugar-loaf peak of Achi Baba, absurdly pink and diminutive in the distance. A man’s first frontal impression of that great rampart, with the outlying slopes masking the summit, was that it was disappointingly small; but when he had lived under and upon it for a while, day by day, it seemed to grow in menace and in bulk, and ultimately became a hideous, overpowering monster, pervading all his life; so that it worked upon men’s nerves, while, day by day, it seemed to grow and almost everywhere in the Peninsula they were painfully conscious that every movement they made could be watched from somewhere on that massive hill. But now the kitchens had come, and there was breakfast and viscous, milkless tea.
We discovered that all around our seeming solitude the earth had been people
d with sleepers, who now emerged from their holes; there was a stir of washing and cooking and singing, and the smoke went up from the wood fires in the clear, cool air. D Company officers made their camp under an olive-tree, with a view over the blue water to Samothrace and Imbros, and now in the early cool, before the sun had gathered his noonday malignity, it was very pleasant. At seven o’clock the ‘searching’ began. A mile away, on the northern cliffs, the first shell burst, stampeding a number of horses. The long-drawn warning scream and the final crash gave all the expectant battalion a faintly pleasurable thrill, and as each shell came a little nearer the sensation remained. No one was afraid; without the knowledge of experience no one could be seriously afraid on this cool, sunny morning in the grove of olive trees.
Those chill hours in the sweeper had been much more alarming. The common sensation was: ‘At last I am really under fire; to-day I shall write home and tell them about it.’ And then, when it seemed that the line on which the shells were falling must, if continued, pass through the middle of our camp, the firing mysteriously ceased.
The SS River Clyde took hundreds of troops to W Beach in the early hours of 25 April. Subsequently beached, she became a temporary quay and breakwater as well as housing a dressing station in her hold.
Chapter 5
RESEARCHING UNITS
STRUCTURE
During the First World War the British Army expanded from a fairly small organisation in July 1914 to a huge institution by the end of 1918, which historians have suggested was the biggest temporary organisation ever created in Britain. During the war some five million men (that is, just over 20 per cent of the adult male population) were in khaki, and the vast majority of them served overseas. They had to be equipped, fed and trained before being sent into the fighting. It is astonishing that this large-scale expansion took place without a major hiccup, and remains so little known about today. The one exception was the shell shortage of the spring and summer of 1915, which limited British offensive plans. In particular, the British campaign in Gallipoli and the Dardanelles was severely affected by this lack of munitions.