Monday, 12 September 2011

200209 A/Cpl Archie Walter Parker, 4th Suffolk Regt


I never met Archie Parker, but I received several letters from him in 1987 and 1988 and the following extracts are taken from these.

"My name is Archie Walter Parker and I was born in Ipswich, Suffolk on the 20th September 1895. I joined the 4th Battalion, Suffolk Regiment in 1912. Our drill hall was at Ipswich so it was easy to go there from our homes. We used to go about two nights a week which was very handy. I joined them because they were only territorials and we had regular work to go to. I was in the local A Company and my number was 1630, later 200209.


[The 1911 census shows Archie living at 65 Rendlesham Road, Ipswich with his parents Albert William Parker (aged 43), Emma Parker (aged 40) and eight siblings. Millicent, at 21, was the eldest, whilst Arthur Wilfred Parker, at nine months, was the youngest. Fifteen-year-old Archie was working as a boot packer for a boot manufacturer.]

"In 1914 we went to Yarmouth for camp for a fortnight - as we thought - and then the war broke out so we had to come back to Ipswich to be mobilized at our drill hall. We went to Felixstowe, doing duty on the coast, and our billet was a large golf house from which the golfers had had to leave in a hurry, leaving a lot behind. We were then relieved and we went in the country to sleep in the fields. One was in Tiptree in Essex, near a strawberry field. Then we went to Colchester, having to march about ten miles to the Severalls Hospital which was then a lunatics' hospital. We slept in tents there and we had to run around the hospital twice before breakfast. We used to march down to Colchester and do sentry duty at an officers' billets and we used to go out to a village called Elmstead to train doing trench building and the like.

"One day our officers asked who would volunteer to go to Egypt, Malta or Gibralter. Many of us did and we ended up on an old cattle steamer at Southampton. We landed in Le Havre, France, and what a surprise! We could do nothing about it, there it was. We marched up a steep hill and went into tents where there were some troops who had been wounded. I met a soldier there who had been wounded and was from Ipswich, and afterwards both he and I worked for the same firm. Then we went by train to Rouen for about two nights, and then to St Omer. This was the British Headquarters where General Roberts died and my brother, who was a sergeant, went down to the station as a bearer.


[Archie's brother was 1100 Sergeant William George Parker, later 83371 CQMS Machine Gun Corps, and later still RQMS MGC]

Sunday, 11 September 2011

9732 Pte Stan Brown, 1st Leics, later 32526 1st South Staffs


Stan Brown was the second Great War veteran I ever interviewed. I met him in 1981 and visited him many times until his death in 1987. A South Londoner, Stan had moved to my home town of Chelmsford in Essex and was an active member of the Chelmsford branch of The Old Contemptibles Association. He was also its youngest member and perhaps, not surprisingly, the last of that band to "fade away". Writing on behalf of the Chelmsford branch in the last ever issue of The Old Contemptible magazine, "the official organ of the Old Contemptible Association" in December 1975, Stan wrote,

"I am delighted to say we are going to carry on as a branch, after attending a full Area Committee meeting and finding the other branches with the Area are going to, we could not let them down and will soldier on. There are only six of us..."

Stan Brown was born David Stanley Brown in Dulwich on the 31st March 1897. I always knew him as Stan, and all of his surviving military records record him as Stanley Brown. Interestingly though, he signed off his editorial in the 1975 Old Contemptible magazine as DSB. He told me,

"I was christened David Stanley Brown but my mother never allowed me to be called David. As far as she was concerned, the name was like ditch water. I found out afterwards that my father's eldest brother was called David and he'd died in a bloomin' inebriate zone in Streatham."

On joining the army he told me,

"In 1913 I was apprenticed to a dentist. One day he accused me of making a false plate. I said I hadn't and I slung the thing at him. I knew I'd be in hot water so I ran away and slept on a park bench that night. I enlisted at Herne Hill the next day and became attached to the East Surreys."

A surviving entry in the Surrey Recruitment Registers notes that Stan joined the 4th (Extra Reserve) Battalion of the East Surrey Regiment at Kingston-on-Thames on the 16th May 1913. He would have been 16 years old, although he is recorded as being 17 years and 10 months. In Stan's words,

"I first joined the East Surrey militia [it would have been the militia before 1908 when it became the Special Reserve and Extra Reserve] after telling them I was eighteen. They didn't believe me but said if I stayed for four months they'd make me eighteen."

His papers note that he stood five feet, five and three quarter inches tall, weighed 116 pounds, had blue eyes and brown hair and a distinctive mole (which I personally don't recall). His trade was noted not as a dental technician but as an electrician's fitter, employed by W A Wilson of 150 Norwood Road, Norwood.

"When I joined the East Surreys," Stan explained, "the Commanding Officer asked if anyone liked gymnastics. Like a fool I said I did and I became the sparring partner for the battalion's boxing champion. This chap had a cauliflower ear and I must have clouted it because he whacked me about so much that he broke my nose and landed me up in hospital. The East Surrey Regiment had a bad reputation as a regiment and were known as the drunken half-hundred. After the boxer clouted me I think they were quite worried because he could have done me serious injury and I was still only young. Anyway, after the four months I joined the Leicesters as an eighteen year-old as my brother [Ewart Gladstone Brown] was already in the regiment and was well-liked."

Actually, as the records show, Stan's time with the East Surrey's amounted to a little over two months. He joined the Leicestershire Regiment on the 23rd July 1913 and was given the number 9732. His brother, who had joined the regiment in 1911 and would be invalided out of the army in 1915 with a bullet wound to his head, picked up at Neuve Chapelle, was 9302. Again, the Surrey Recruitment Registers noted Stan's particulars: eighteen years old (he was still only sixteen), five feet six inches tall, 119 pounds with a fresh complexion.

Fast forward a year and Stan is in France, having arrived with the 1st Battalion on the 9th September 1914. He was seventeen years and five months old and must have been one of the youngest soldiers of the BEF. His brother Ewart, (known to Stan as 'Glad) was serving with the 2nd Battalion in India and wouldn't arrive in France until December 1914. Therefore, although it was Glad who had seen more service with the Leicesters, it was Stan who would end up being the Old Contemptible.

"I saw fighting on the Aisne, in the caves on the heights above the Aisne. We went through a place called Vailley and we went three months without pay, cigarettes or anything else. By the time we got to Vailley our shoes had got holes and I remember Captain [W. C.] Wilson, my Company Commander, wearing a bloomin' sailor's overcoat and I was wearing a pair of German boots and a pair of short corduroy knickers. We never went out to France with our best uniform; that was supposed to be sent to Paris for when we got there. But we never got them and never found a bloke who had his either."

Stan also took part in the Christmas truce on Christmas Day 1914 when the battalion was at Chapelle Armentieres.

"At Christmas 1914 we had a kind of armistice if you like, to say there'd be no firing on Christmas Day, but it didn;t happen just like that. On Christmas Eve, as far as we were concerned, we was still at war, but in the evening on sentry-go we heard singing from Jerry. He was only fifty yards away and they was saxons to the best of my recollection. We had the Stand-To because we didn't know what all the singing was about to start off with. On Jerry's wire there were bits of paper, bits of rag, and all sorts of things saying "Happy Christmas", some in German, some in English because a lot of the Germans had worked in England. They held up a bottle of wine and I know our bloke shot at it. Well it all got quiet. I don't know if we had breakfast that morning, I suppose we did; we had a drink. Everything was peaceful and eventually one of the Germans held up a card with "Merry Christmas" written on it, and come on over the top.

"Everybody was dubious in our trench, saying kind of, should we or shouldn't we and all of this bloomin' caper, and then one or two more Germans come up. Then eventually we decided, well they haven't got any rifles on 'em and we went over. And our Buchanan-Dunlop who come to us as Battalion Commander, he kind of led the singing!

"We didn't all group in one place, we was spread along an area about a hundred yards and we mixed in with some others and they give us a bottle of wine and cigars and we thought to ourselves, well they must be bloomin' well-off in Jerry-land. All we got was a tin of Tickler's jam and we went back into the trench and brought out a couple or three tins of jam to give to these Jerries."

Sunday, 28 August 2011

Lt Frederick Mason Matthews 2/1st Essex Yeomanry


Frederick Mason Matthews was one of the first Great War veterans I interviewed, and I see from my notes that I met him at his home in Great Dunmow in Essex on the 7th October 1981 when he was 90 years old. Frederick was born in the nearby village of Good Easter on the 27th March 1891 and had been a farmer before the outbreak of war.

The 1911 census shows Frederick living at home with his family at Falconer's Hall, Good Easter. The family comprised his father, mother, brother Reginald and two servants. Frederick and Reginald are noted as assistant farmers.


Falconer's Hall was a significant property and the family was almost certainly well-off. This modern-day photo from geograph.org gives a glimpse of the property viewed from Souther Cross Road:


Whilst this aerial shot courtesy of Google suggests that the immediate area appears to be little changed since Frederick and his family lived there:



My notes state Frederick's number with the Essex Yeomanry as 1818 but his MIC (top) shows that this number was in fact a Hertfordshire Yeomanry number. I had known that he was later an Acting Captain and the MIC confirms this. I presume a service record also survives but I have yet to investigate this.

I do know from my own research into regimental numbers that 1818 for the Hertfordshire Yeomanry dates to around the 3rd September 1914 and that, according to Frederick Matthews, he arrived at Southampton in October or November 1914. The MIC indicates that he arrived in Egypt on the 8th November and so he'd been in khaki for little over two months. Frederick remembers that,

"We arrived at Alexandria after twenty-four days' travel and from there we entrained for Cairo. On arrival there we marched to Abassia Barracks which were being occupied by regulars of the 3rd Dragoon Guards. We took over their horses and they went out to France."

Frederick Matthews served in Gallipoli, reaching Suvla Bay in August 1915:

"There were no landing places and the ship was brought as near to the shore as possible and we were told to wade in. The Turks were up in the hills and they could see our every movement. We hadn't been landed more than five minutes when we lost our colonel, shot through the head."


Lieutenant Colonel Samuel Gurney Sheppard DSO (above) died of wounds on the 21st August 1915 aged 50. He was educated at Eton and had been a member of the London Stock Exchange since 1887. He had won his DSO whilst serving with the Imperial Yeomanry in the Second South African War. He is buried in Green Hill Cemetery on Gallipoli.

"After the initial landing we went to a rest camp and then we were told at night to get ready to go up to the front line trenches and that someone would guide us up there. A chap turned up and we later discovered that he must have been a Turkish officer in disguise. He told our C.O. to follow him and we all landed up in Turkish trenches. Of course, when we discovered where we were we all got our as quick as possible and made our way back to our own lines.

"Later on we were sent up to the front line at Chocolate Hill and the troops who we relieved had been there for three weeks without a break. They were absolutely dead asleep at their posts and our first duty was to bury the dead bodies which lay in front of our wire and which had been there for some while. The heat was unbearable and of course the flies were terrible. It was not a nice job. There were some wells which had been sunk by the Turks long ago but they'd all been poisoned. There was no end of illness with people going sick with dysentry and enteric fever. I cam away with eneteric fever and dysentry in October 1915. I was a stretcher case and was sent to Aberdeen for convalescence for three months, followed by two months' sick leave. I then applied for and was given a commission [with the 2/1st Essex Yeomanry] in England."

Frederick Mason Matthews, who was immensely proud of the fact that he was the first person in Good Easter to volunteer during WW1, died in Chelmsford in December 1983 aged 92.

Wednesday, 9 March 2011

A/200935 Pte Arthur Gilbert Sewell, 21st KRRC


I interviewed Arthur Sewell at his home in Galleywood, Essex in December 1982 when he was 91 years old. He was born in Galleywood on 12th May 1891 and was working as a storeman for Baddow Brewery when he attested under the Derby Scheme in December 1915. He was then aged 24 years and seven months and was called up on the 8th February 1916, joining the 3/6th Essex Regiment. He was given the number 5962. He was later transferred to the regular 2nd Battalion of the Essex Regiment and given a new number, 40474.

"We were moved from Chelmsford to Warley and then to East Ham where we were billeted in private houses. Then we were transferred to Wendover in Buckinghamshire where I completed most of my training. We arrived in France in mid 1916 and were training at Etaples for a short time before being moved up to the Somme.

"The trenches were awful, there's no getting away from it. You were up to your knees in mud and once it got under your skin it was weeks before it would come out again.

"You'd have a dug-out with old iron and bits and pieces and you'd go in there providing there hadn't been a gas attack. Our cookers used to get shelled and bust up and many a time we had to make do on cheese and bully beef. I remember one day we had a hard biscuit and a raw kipper.

"We'd go over the top having shelled their trenches and they wouldn't be there because they'd retreated. Then they'd shell us and even if we got back safely we'd hear the wounded out there and some of us would have to volunteer to go back through the barbed wire and get them.

"We'd have to go out on listening duty and it was the daftest thing. You could hear the Germans laughing and singing but we couldn't report what we heard because we couldn't speak German.

"In the trenches we'd do two hours on the fire-step, four in the trench and then rest. One occasion when it was bitterly cold and snowing I covered myself with blankets which froze solid on me. You can't really explain to anyone what it was like, you had to be there."

Fortunately, as I discovered this evening on Ancestry, water-damaged papers from Arthur's service record survive in WO 363. He was posted to the 3rd Essex Regiment on the 28th September 1916 and posted immediately to the 2nd Battalion on the same day. On the 11th September 1916 he was transferred to the 21st King's Royal Rifle Corps and given the number A/200935. Arthur recalled this number when I met him and also recalled his original attestation date as 15th December 1915 although his papers show that he actually attested four days earlier than this.


On 1st April 1917, Arthur Sewell was wounded. He recalled, "We were repairing a little opening in the parapet and although we didn't take much notice of it at the time, there was a sniper opposite it. On the occasion that I happened to be leading, he fired and I got a bullet which went through my chest and down into my arm, wrecking my nervous system. I was very lucky not to lose my life. The buckle on my braces directed the trajectory of the bullet and if it had gone the other way it would have been in my heart. They carted me off to a Canadian hospital at Boulogne and I was in there a month before being taken to Blighty. They said that I'd be near home in London but I found myself in Scotland where I stayed for nine months until I had my operation. I left there on Christmas Eve 1917 and was then transferred to Chelmsford hospital. I had electric treatment for four years and was finally pensioned off in 1921 after I had my final exam at Chelsea."

Arthur's service record confirms that he was admitted to Edinburgh War Hospital on the 26th April 1917 and that he was discharged on the 6th December that year, his home address given as Lower Green, Galleywood, Chelmsford. He was discharged from the army on the 27th December 1917 and was awarded a pension of 27 shillings and sixpence, reduced to 22 shillings after four weeks.

During my short time with Arthur Sewell, the only time I met him, he mentioned, "my mother received a letter saying that I'd been wounded and then another to say my brother had been killed."

Searches on Find My Past reveal that his brother was William (or Willie) Sewell who was killed in action on the 19th May 1917 whilst serving with the 2nd Battalion of the South Wales Borderers. Like Arthur who was one year older, Willie had previously served with the Essex Regiment. His Essex Regiment number - 33190 - suggests that he probably joined up a little earlier than Arthur. William Sewell has no known grave and is commemorated on Bay 6 of the Arras Memorial. The Commonwealth War Graves Commission notes that he was 24 years old and was the son of Arthur Peter and Lilian Sewell of Lower Green, Galleywood, Chelmsford, Essex.

Arthur Sewell, who lived in Galleywood all his long life, died the year after I met him. His death was recorded in the December quarter of that year.

Tuesday, 25 January 2011

12097 Pte Frederick James Cutts, Army Cyclist Corps



Frederick James Cutts was born in Brixton on the 27th December 1897. When I interviewed him in the early 1980s he told me that he had joined the army on Empire Day - the 24th of May - 1916. Surviving papers in WO 363 confirm that to be the case, but he had attested for service in January of that year. He had given his age as 18 years, his trade as "clerk" and his address as 144 Lowden Road, Herne Hill, South-West London. He stood five feet five and a quarter inches tall and gave his next of kin as his father, William Ernest Cutts, also of the same address.

Frederick joined the Army Cyclist Corps and was given the number 12097. He told me:

"After I joined up, my brother complained because I wasn't old enough. I got ticked off but I was sent to Chiseldon training camp in Wiltshire. Before the war, each division had a cyclist company and when war broke out they formed the Army Cyclist Corps. When I went abroad, I joined the 7th Corps Battalion. Our sign was the polar bear which obviously originated from the polar bear constellation of seven stars."

Frederick told me that he'd arrived in Rouen In January 1917. He was just slightly out as his service record notes that he embarked at Folkestone on the 20th February 1917 and landed in France the same day. He was posted to the VII Corps battalion on the 11th April 1917. On arrival in France, "when the company commander saw me he said, "oh, we've got the Boys' Brigade here."

Frederick Cutts spent three days in hospital in January 1918 with "debility" possibly occasioned by the freezing cold weather, and the following month he was given leave to the United Kingdom. He was in Peronne in France when the Germans launched their major offensive in March 1918 and remembered,

"On March 21st 1918 which was a foggy day, I was out on a detachment on my own when I was called back to HQ to be told that the Germans had broken through. We retreated so fast we had to leave a hundred bikes behind which we smashed up. A colleague and I were told to stay at our post at the citadel until our B Company commander came through with his party. My comrade and I observed a party of believed German cyclists accompanied by a section of the motorcycle machine gun corps and we made our way out of Peronne without further ado. We cleared the bridge which ran over the river just before it was blown up by the Royal Engineers."

In November 1918, Frederick received two weeks' compassionate leave to return to the UK to visit his father who was seriously ill. By the time he arrived home however, his father had already died and been buried. He remembers that when he left for the UK his place on the Lewis Gun team was taken by a man who was subsequently killed and "reported as the last man to be killed in the Great War." He had previously served with the Essex Regiment.

Frederick Cutts died in Chelmsford, Essex in June 1996 aged 99. A photo, taken in France, and his demob certificateare appended below.



Saturday, 18 September 2010

10707 Pte Leonard Baker, 11th Essex Regt

Synopsis
I interviewed Leonard Baker on the 13th July 1987 at Redbond Lodge in Great Dunmow, Essex. He was then 91 years old and in failing health. He was born at Duddenhoe End, Essex in April 1896 and was working as a farm labourer when war was declared. He joined the 2nd Essex Regiment in September 1914, joining up under regular terms of enlistment and as a career soldier rather than for the duration of the war. He was given the number 10707. Leonard was posted to the 11th Battalion soon after joining up and he arrived in France on the 30th August 1915 on the day that the 11th Battalion arrived as a battalion, overseas. The 11th Essex Regiment formed part of the 18th Infantry Brigade in the 6th Division.

Interview

PN:
Your name please.

LB:
Leonard Baker.

PN:
And when were you born?

LB:
I was born at Duddenhoe End, near Elmdon near Saffron Walden.

PN:
What year was that?

LB:
1896. I shall be 92 next April.

PN:
What was your trade before the war?

LB:
Farm labourer.

PN:
When did you join up?

LB:
I joined up, well, I joined up at Cambridge in 1911 but I didn’t pass. I went up to Whitehall, London but I didn’t pass there so I went home again. They took me down into a room and I had to wait there until four o’clock. I had a captain form the Navy and he come to see me and they wanted me to join the Navy [but] I wouldn’t join the Navy because I wanted to go with my mate. However, I got sent home again.

PN:
And that was 1911 you say?

LB:
That was 1911.

PN:
So that was a long while before the war then.

LB:
Oh yes.

PN:
You wanted to join the army because a friend was joining?

LB:
Yes.

PN:
Why were you at Cambridge?

LB:
Well we was out one Sunday night for a walk and two or three of us there said wed go down to Cambridge and try and pass and join the army.

PN:
Why weren’t you accepted for the army?

LB:
I was accepted at Cambridge but I wasn’t accepted up at Whitehall because my little fingers were [deformed]. I was born like that.

PN:
When the First War broke out, you joined up again.

LB:
Yes.

PN:
What year was that?

LB:
I joined up in 1914.

PN:
Where did you go to enlist?

LB:
I was out to France, up in the Ypres front. Nine months I was up at the Ypres front and then I got sent down. I can’t think of the name of the place now. I got sent right down south.

PN:
When you joined up when the war broke out did you join up with the 1st Essex or the 2nd Essex.

LB:
I joined up with the 2nd Essex when the First War broke out .

PN:
What division was that?

LB:
18th Brigade, 6th Division .

PN:
When did you first go out to France?

LB:
I think I went out to France the beginning of 1915.

PN:
Was it all Essex men in the battalion?

LB:
Yes, it was the Essex Regiment.

PN:
Did you join up at Saffron Walden? When the war broke out lots of men volunteered to join the army didn’t they? And you were one of them. Did you go down to the drill hall in Saffron Walden?

LB:
Yes.

PN:
And then you went out to France? Were you there for the Second Battle of Ypres?

LB:
I was there for the First Battle of Ypres.

PN:
In 1914?

LB:
Yes.

PN:
That was Christmas time?

LB:
Yes, I was out in 1914 .

PN:
Do you remember you number still?

LN:
My number? Ten seven oh seven. [10707]

PN:
And were you a private?

LB:
Private.

PN:
Were you wounded out there at all?

LB:
Well I did get hit in the leg with a bit of shrapnel but I never had to stop anywhere like.

PN:
Did you stay out in France and Belgium until the end of the war?

LB:
Yes. I was up the Ypres front over nine months and then they shifted us down south. I was in the 18th Brigade, 6th Division.

PN:
That was all regular soldiers wasn’t it? A regular division.

LB:
Yes.

PN:
So how did you come to be put into that division because you weren’t a regular soldier were you?

LB:
I joined up with the regulars you see. I was in the 2nd Battalion, 2nd Essex.

PN:
After you were refused at Whitehall in 1911 did you try and join up again?

LB:
Well yes. They refused me just because of my little fingers.

PN:
What I’m trying to work out is whether you joined up as a volunteer after the war had broken out or whether you’d already joined up and were called up as a reservist.

LB:
No, I joined up when the war broke out.

PN:
Where did you do your training?

LB:
Some at Brighton and several different places.

PN:
What were the conditions like when you got out there?

LB:
Poor; very bad. I was out on the Ypres front. I was at Ypres for nine months before I got shifted further south.

PN:
How far south? The Somme front or further south than that?

LB:
I was on the Somme front, yes. I can’t think of the names.

PN:
Do you remember playing Crown and Anchor or any of those sort of games?

LB:
Oh yes. I can remember being paid out one Friday and I went playing Crown & Anchor and I lost all my money that day.

PN:
I met a man last week in White Roding, who’s 95 now, and he used to run a Crown & Anchor board and he was quids in. He came out with a lot of money.

LB:
Me and my friend we used to run a Crown and Anchor board.

PN:
Because only three dice won didn’t they, and you’d take the rest of the money.

LB:
That’s it.

PN;
Did you play housey-housey?

LB:
Oh yes.

PN:
Did you come home on leave when you were out there?

LB:
Yes. I used to have leave every year. The first one I think was seven days and the next one was ten days,

PN:
You said you were in the 1st and 3rd Battalions [of the Essex Regiment] as well. Is that right?

LB:
I was in the 1st and the 2nd. I wasn’t in the 1st in the First World War; I was in the 2nd Battalion and the 11th Battalion .

PN:
What division was the 11th Essex in?

LB:
18th Brigade, 6th Division.

PN:
What about the 2nd Essex then?

LB:
I forget now. I liked the 2nd Essex. I was in the 1st Essex as well but that was when I come back and I was in Ireland.

PN:
So you were in the army for quite a while then weren’t you?

LB:
Yes, I done over seven years in the regulars.

PN:
So from 1914 until 1921?

LB:
Yes.

PN:
So you went to Ireland in 1921.

LB:
I had two turns out in Ireland. The first time I was out in Ireland I was up at… the big station in the north of Ireland.

PN:
Do you remember any places in France? Do you remember Albert and the golden virgin?

LB:
Yes, yes I do remember.

PN:
And when you were in the Ypres sector did you go to places like Poperinghe?

LB:
Poperinghe, yes. I know Poperinghe well. I used to come back for a rest at Poperinghe.

PN:
Did you got to Toc H at Poperinghe?

LB:
Toc H. I couldn’t tell you. I know our headquarters was at Ypres.

PN:
What was it like in the trenches.

LB:
To tell you the truth I was very lucky in a way. A captain come around – and this was before we had tin hats – and I should think there were three or four hundred [dead and wounded] soldiers laid in a heap under a tree. He come round and picked out seven of us and he wanted another one so he picked me out. We was to take these wounded – well wounded and dead, there was more dead than wounded – across to a sunken road where the horse ambulances came and picked them up. I was lucky really, in a way, because we were there at five in the morning when the fighting broke out again and we were kept in the road.

PN:
That sounds as though there was a big battle going on at that time.

LB:
Yes there was.

PN:
What was the food like?

LB:
Well, to tell you the truth, me and my mate had a biscuit between us for two days. We had half a biscuit a day. Then one morning they come round and said you’d have to come down the valley, about a mile down the valley, to pick up some rations. They’d got them down the valley and they couldn’t get them up to us like. I know that what they give me was the fore part of a bullock; you know, the front legs and that, and I can remember I hadn’t had grub for two days, just half a biscuit and I ate a big lump of fat out there. Well, to tell you the truth, I don’t know, I thought I was going to snuff it. I did feel bad.

PN:
Did you move down to the Somme front?

LB:
Yes.

PN:
What was it like down there?

LB:
Jolly rough. I can remember help burying some Germans and well, they were some of the biggest blokes I’ve ever seen. German Guards they were, great big fellas.

PN:
Were you at Passchendaele.

LB:
Yes.

PN:
What was it like there?

LB:
Bad there.

PN:
Where do you think conditions were the worst?

LB:
I can’t think of the name of the place we went. I was up at Ypres and Passchendaele and then they shifted our battalion in the 6th Division, right down south.

PN:
When did you transfer to the 11th?

LB:
Well we had to go where they sent you? You never knew where you was going to?

PN:
Do you remember when you transferred to the 11th? Would that be 1916 or 1917?

LB:
Well it’s a job to remember.

PN:
When you joined up in 1914 they didn’t say anything about your fingers then?

LB:
Oh no. They’d take anybody then. They passed you off, no trouble about that.

PN:
Were you a religious man?

LB:
Oh yes, yes.

PN:
Can you remember the names of any of your officers?

LB:
I know we had one officer by the name of Bartlett. I can’t think of the [other] names now.

PN:
Did you enjoy life in the army?

LB:
Oh yes.

PN:
I suppose you must have done because you stayed on after didn’t you?

LB:
Yes.

PN:
You didn’t want to make a career of it though?

LB:
No. I lost my father and mother while I was in the war.

PN:
What was it like coming home on leave. Was it a relief?

LB:
Oh yes. We had leave every year. I had seven days the first time and ten days the next time.

PN:
How did they do it, by alphabetical order?

LB:
Yes. I was usually first because I was B.


[Ends]

Sunday, 20 June 2010

33033 Sgt John Brett, 1st Bn, Essex Regiment


Synopsis

John Brett was born in Southminster, Essex on the 22nd March 1891. I met him at an old people's home in Chelmsford in 1982 and conducted a brief interview with him. I later returned with the then curator of the Chelmsford and Essex Museum - David Jones - who conducted a fuller interview. The transcript below is my edited version of the one that is held by the Essex Regiment Museum in Chelmsford.

At no time during either interview, did John Brett reveal his army number and in all likelihood he had forgotten it. A search through birth and death registers confirms that he had no middle name, and this in turn narrows down the possibilities when it comes to looking at medal index cards. There are two John Bretts with Essex Regiment connections: one of these men also served with the Royal Engineers whilst the second man also served with the Labour Corps. There are two J Bretts but both of these men can be ruled out as their numbers do not fall in the range of numbers issued to Essex Regiment recruits in 1915.

My hunch is that John Brett was 33033 Sergeant John Brett, later 615465 Labour Corps. He says in the interview that he spent three Christmases at home. We know he was at home in 1918 and that he joined up in 1915. I think he attested under the Derby Scheme in November or December 1915 and received his notice to join the Essex Regiment in late 1916. His number, 33033, dates to around November that year. And so he spent Christmas 1915, 1916 and 1918 in England, and Christmas 1917 in France.

I took the photo above of John Brett when I first met him in 1982 and he died in Chelmsford in 1988 aged 97.

Interview

Could you tell me where and when you were born Mr Brett?

Southminster, 1891.

And what did your father do?

He worked with his father on a small farm; sort of labouring or doing anything – thatching or any kind of work with his father.

You presumably went to the village school, did you?

Yes

What was that like?

Alright yes, but I’m afraid I didn’t get on too well with the headmaster. He’d got his favourites. There was a family called Hoad. Their father used to train dogs for Sir Daniel Gooch who lived
In the Highlands and they were favourites of Mr Jonser my schoolmaster. I don’t know why he disliked me because I tried. He’d got his favourites and the Hoad family, there were three boys, they were his favourites.

When did you leave school, how old were you, do you remember?

Fourteen, fourteen years.

And did you go to work with your father then or did you go into another trade?

No, unfortunately my father died when I was only eight – so I don’t know. I forget really what I was doing ‘til the war came.

You would have been what, just over twenty, twenty three when war started?

That’s right, yes.

What was – how did you feel about the war? – You’d obviously seen in the papers about the war – what were your feelings about it? – Did you think it was a right war?

I’m against war myself. I don’t believe in wars. Why should we kill each other. If I were to shoot you Mr Jones, or your comrade, I’d be sent to prison – but when the war comes, they give you a rifle – you can shoot anybody, shoot you enemy. But why? Why can’t we all live happy together?

When did you join up and where did you join up?

1915 at Warley – I went to Warley Barracks – there for a day or two. Then I went to Etaples, in France and done my training there.

I see. When you joined up were you on your own or did you go with some friends?

If I remember, I had notice one morning by letter to attend Warley Barracks. I went by myself.

When you got to Warley do you remember, what was it like, what was your impression of the place? Do you remember anything of the uniform you were given or whatever? Did you have a uniform straight away?

Yes, we were given all our kit at Warley before we went overseas.

What Battalion were you in then?

I wasn’t posted at Warley what Battalion I was going to join – but when I was at Etaples. [It would appear that John Brett when to France as a draft for the Essex Regt, was posted to one of the Infantry Base Depots at Etaples, and then subsequently posted as part of a draft to the 1st Essex Regiment.]

Oh, I see. Were most of the men that joined with you at Warley, were they mostly from Essex?
Oh yes. One fellow from Bradwell–on- Sea, name of Copeland . I remember his name; and a lot of Southminster boys; local lads that I knew, got killed in the war. And you think about them now; all those years have passed, but you still think about them.

Do you remember any of their names?

Yes. Jimmy, Jim Thorogood , Harold Bishop, Mr Coote, seven or eight I remember their names, used to be pally with them before they joined up.

What were the conditions like at Warley? Was it a bit rough and ready?

Well it was new wasn’t it you see. If you hadn’t been a soldier it was all fresh, fresh surroundings. Get up early in the morning and you drill and break for dinner and break for tea, you didn’t get much spare time; not to call your own.You were generally on the go.

Was it generally drilling that you did at Warley?

No, as I said to you just now, I did most of my, of my drilling at Etaples, in France.

How did you get from Warley to Etaples?

By boat from Folkestone.

How did you get to Folkestone though? Did you go by train or did you march it?

We went by train.

Ah yes, and when you got to the other side, to France, what – how did you get to Etaples?

Went with hundreds more, by train. Out there the trains, you could get out of the train and run and catch it up before it got very far. Trains were very slow in France – very slow.

What was the morale of the men like? Were they all, you know, sort of ready to fight do you think?

It’s hard to say, hard to say. Individuals, you don’t know what an individual thinks, do you? I don’t know what you think about now.

So when you got to Etaples then, what happened then? What was the training like?

Oh, that was just hell, the training was terrible. ‘Come here! Come here! Go there! Fall in this lot! Fall in that lot! The sergeants and the instructors were very, very thorough, you know. What was their remark? ‘You won’t be able to play with your Grandmother, you’re here to soldier. Come on here! A lot of red tape. Then we, in the training, we used to, we had this rifle and we had a row of bags stuffed with straw, they represented a German. It was about so far, it was off and the sergeant said ‘Now charge’!. So you stick the bayonet into the bag of straw, pushing it in and out, and off you go again as if to say, ‘Well he’s dead.

So you learnt, did you learn, you learnt obviously, to shoot the rifle? You had practice in that too?

Oh yes, I was a very good marksman with a rifle. Sergeant said ‘You’re good, you’re good’. I used to get a bullseye.

Did you get a marksman’s badge in the end?

I don’t think so.

How long were you at Etaples?

It would take me ‘til tomorrow morning, this time, to tell you all my life of France, out in France.
You would really like to know what? Where I went or……

Well yes. Where did you go when you finished training? What happened then?

I was sent with the draft. I was made a Corporal and I went with seventeen other men and myself made eighteen. We were picked to join 1st Battalion, the Essex Regiment. Well we marched one night, it was dark, like a firework display from the enemy, were shelling and bombing. So we got to this, where the Essex were, they were up in the front line at that time. So we went to that place, had some food and went to bed. We hadn’t been to bed about ten minutes before the Sergeant Major said ‘Where’s that draft that just come in’? Fall in! Fall in! And we had to fall in . Our job was to take petrol, petrol cans full of water, up the line to the Essex Regiment. That night, a lot of firing going on.

What time of year would that have been? Was it summer or winter or what?

That would be about mid summer.

And what happened after that? You got into the line then, obviously?

Yes, we took that water up, the Sergeant major said ‘You don’t know the way Corporal?’ and I said ‘No, we’ve only just arrived’. So he says that another Corporal had just come from the front line and he’ll have to go back again and take you. So he took me and the seventeen men with the cans of water up to the front line where the Essex Battalion was – and they’d suffered a lot of losses the day before.

Do you remember where that was?

Somewhere on the Somme. We went passed Amiens and Abbeville. Went through those villages up to the line, the front line.

And when you got into the line what was the fighting like? What, trenches presumably?

After we took the water we come back and were there at the base several days and then we were ordered up to the front line again and we were going to relieve the Inniskillens and they’d suffered heavy loss. We relieved them and it was a case of getting in a shell hole or anywhere to get a bit of cover. You see – were shelling that particular spot. Well, were there about a week then we were relieved, relieved and the whole of the Essex Battalion came back to -–I can’t remember where it was – and the morning we were relieved we were going to Freshard [?] At a certain place, he had a machine gun on a corner and he knew we’d be returning that way and the order came along ‘Every man for himself’. ‘Down you go’. Went flat down on the ground because he was firing at that particular place and we lost a lot of men through that particular place. So same as you had to turn Corporation Road and turn into Broomfield Road on that corner, well he had the machine gun laid on that corner and you got to pass. You had to go on your hands and knees. Get past it somehow.

Conditions obviously were very bad then. What was the supply situation like? Did you get enough food and so on – water?

It reminded me the other day. We had lovely corned beef here, and chips and peas. Corned beef – I’d never seen so much corned beef wasted. It was piled up, boxes and boxes and boxes, lovely corned beef. That was a sort of home made trench to protect you from the bullets, these lovely, lovely tins of bully beef. They’d cost no end of money now to buy. But we was always glad to get a small loaf. That was perhaps about six men for a small loaf. So you got a little piece of bread, you didn’t get much. Then we always had the hard biscuits. Something like sort of dog biscuits. Hard, hard. But you used to be glad of anything if you were hungry.

Was the food supply better behind the line, when you were relieved? Was that reasonably good?

Oh yes, that was better then.

What, did they have canteens or mobile canteens or something?

Shall I join in? While I was up there I got a septic foot. So the doctor says ‘How long has it been like that?’ I said about six weeks. He says’ Alright’ he says, ‘Get out of it’. So he marked me further down the line, down to base. So there was a lot went down. Some were on stretchers, others were hobbling on one leg, and we went down and we stayed on a camp and during the night I heard a train – engine on a train. Choo-choo-choo-choo. I wished it had of stopped for us. That stopped and somebody shouted ‘Those that can get on the train, go across and get on. ‘Cos there were stretcher cases – they couldn’t go. They had to be took on the stretcher but I – sorry – I’d got the one bad foot but I hobbled on one leg and got on the train. When we all got on I said to the sister, only female we’ve seen for weeks and weeks. I said ‘Where we going?’ She sais ‘You’re going to Le Havre’. So we went to Le Havre, to the Le Havre hospital. I was there three weeks and got this leg, got it healed up. Hot formentations and it got better. After a time I was sent back to Etaples, where I had come from.

What were the hospitals like?

Ah, lovely. They got to heal well, then I was stopped for another week and help with the floors . We used to polish the floors. The hospital’s a lovely place there . Then after three weeks I was sent to a convalescent camp at Le Havre. That was another nice place . Where fellas got fit again after flu and gunshot wounds.

There was presumably no gas at that time ?

No gas, no. Really and truly I could go on telling you but it wouldn’t be interesting. I went back to Etaples so…so when we got back the Sergeant Major says ‘If you’ve got anything to report, report when you see the Medical Officer in the morning. So there was a lot of us – 20 or 30 -went in front of the doctor. He passed some and some he wouldn’t pass. He said ‘ You feeling all right?’ I said ‘Not too good’. The old ticker was not too good. He says ‘Alright you can stop here at Etaples for another week until you get better.

What happened to you after you, you were better again? What happened then?

I went to this convalescent camp and while I was there the Sergeant Major came along and said ‘Brett’ he says ‘I’ve got a job for you’. I said ‘Yes Sir?’ So he says ‘There’s about two or three thousand people want to get across to Blighty, to England – but it was so rough, the weather was so rough. And he said to me he said ‘I want you to go over to that marquee, pick what men you want and make up the bunks and get tea ready for them. But stop here the night’. Because it was so rough for them to come across the water to England. That’s where they were bound for. So prevention was better than cure. So they were there three or four days alright. So I went back again. I was still at Etaples. Sergeant Major said ‘Ah, Brett, I’ve been looking for you.’ He says, ‘Where you been to?’ Well I said ‘ I been here’. So he says ‘I’ve got another job for you’. So I says ‘Right Sir’. So he said ‘Corporal, somebody has done his time in the service’. He was an old soldier and after he’d done his time he would enlist again for the present war’. So he was due to go back to England and he was in charge of one of the dining huts, D Company. There was A,B,C and D – 4 dining huts. So he says ‘I want you to take charge of D Company dining hall. ‘Cos the other Corporal was going home I took his place.

What did that mean for you? What did you have to do?

Order the food or…… Sunday I take two men and go to the cook houses, draw our breakfast, perhaps rashers of bacon, and we used to cut the bread. Get the breakfast all ready, same like dinner, same like tea. I was there six months. I was fortunate.

So that would take you into 1916, wouldn’t it?

Oh yes, well beyond that.

What happened to you after you, after the dining …..?

While I was there I got to know the officer and the colonel.

Who were they? Do you remember?

I don’t know their names now. One was a Scots doctor and the Colonel, I don’t know what he was. They used to come round every Saturday morning inspection. Every man had to be on parade , or he used to come round and inspect the dining hall see if they were all right. The tables had to be scrubbed, soap and water, made look nice, place kept nice. He used to come round. I’ll blow my own trumpet, he said its very clean and neat. So while I was there I got pally with the young lad who worked in the Officers’ quarters, he used to do the Colonel’s cooking. He used to have flowers on the table so when I went they were nearly dead he used to throw away, he used to give them to me . So I used to have flowers ….. on the table. He used to come round and said ‘Very, very nice’

And, to cut a long story short one fella, I’m sorry to say , he got put in the glass house. I felt sorry for him but it was his own fault. See there was six men sit down to a table – 3 each side – had to be. There were six pieces of bread. Well you know what men are, they went for the biggest, biggest piece and there was one small piece left. One fella said ‘I ain’t gonna sit there’ he said ‘and have that lousy bit of bread’. I said ‘You’ll sit there. I tell you to sit there’. ‘I’m not going to sit there’. ‘Alright, I’ll get you another piece of bread’. He sit on another table. So when the officer come round – ‘Orderly Officer, any complaints’? So this fella got up and said ‘Yes Sir’, he said ‘I only had a small piece of bread’. So I explained to the Sergeant Major who was with the officer, I said ‘He refused to obey my instruction.’ I said ‘If he‘d stopped there I’d got another piece of bread’. I said ‘He wouldn’t stop, he sat on the next table what he shouldn’t have done and he got cross’. So the Sergeant Major said ‘Alright’ he said, ‘Fall in two men’. And they took him off and he got three months in the glass house. A silly thing to do , he could have took my advice and sit down at that table. See and he got rude to the Sergeant major, see and the Sergeant Major said ‘Alright, fall in two men’ and marched him off to the guardroom and the last I heard of him he had three months in the glass house. So I felt sorry but there you are. I’m afraid I’m not much help, am I?

Yes you are. What, do you remember what happened next? Where did you go from Etaples? What happened to you after that?

When I went to back to Etaples – before I left that camp – I saw a Scotch doctor and said ‘You ought to rest’ he said ‘You’ve been scrubbing them tables and made your heart bad’. He said ‘There’s thousands of little muscles all round there and you’ve strained them’ he said, ‘You’ve worked them too hard’. So he says ‘I’m going to put you in the rest centre for a fortnight’. So I went in a rest centre. Well the n after that I went back to Etaples. So I saw a Belgian doctor, I think he was. He said ‘ You feel alright?’ I said ‘ Excepting a pain here’. He said ‘ How much do you smoke?’ I said ‘ A packet a day’. He said ‘ You’re a bloody liar’, he says ‘ just look at you hands, you smoke more than your issue’. So to cut a long story short, I went on parade the next morning. I saw this doctor and he said ‘Come to me in a fortnight’s time. Leave off cigarettes, it’ll never get better’.

So I smoked not so much . So I went back again. He wouldn’t pass me. He put me down for the medical travelling board. That was we’ll say eight or nine would be at Chelmsford and we’d have to march say Maldon to Chelmsford for this exam. So there was one poor fella, he had to walk and had an old piece of wood for a walking stick, went in front of me, he could hardly walk. So he went in, so the doctor said ‘ What’s the matter with you? What have you got that stick for? And he kicked the stick away from him and he fell down. I don’t know what happened to him, but he was a sick man. Some used to play on it. See, the doctor didn’t know whether they were genuine cases or not. What you call ‘swinging the lead’. But to cut a long story short, the next morning we went back to the base at Etaples. So the Sergeant major, when we were on parade, so he says ‘ Corporal Brett, George Smith, Tommy brown and George – somebody else – four of us, out of about one hundred men were marked P.B. That was Permanent Base. Then I was transferred to a Prisoner of war Camp, where prisoners came in. I was sent to Abbeville. I was there about a year. I was made up a Sergeant there and the prisoners used to come, thousands used to come some days. Another day there was only a few. So you might as well say I was one of the lucky ones that didn’t see, that wasn’t in the trenches. I was fortunate in that way.

I went to ‘Abbeville’, that was the main cage for the prisoners. They were taken prisoner; the Germans were taken prisoners. We’d dealt with thousands there, and the interpreter was a German. I used to call him ‘Floose’ – Valouse, but I said ‘Floose, I want a thousand men on parade now and they have got to go to Le Havre’. So he used to parade all the men then he would be with me and we would count off a thousand. Then we used to have them at the main gate ready to march off. There was the guard, about twenty men, used to take them to the station to go by train to Le Havre. I must tell you about this ‘Floose’, he was German. ‘One night’, he said ‘ I was on reconnaissance work ‘ he said, ‘And somehow in mistake I got into one of your trenches. Yes’, he said ‘I was very nearly shot’ he says. ‘I got in – where am I? – I must be in the wrong trenches’. So he walked a little further and there was our fella on duty looking across ‘no man’s land’ so he had the presence of mind, he says ‘Wake up! Wake up! He hit him on the back. He says ‘Here comes the officer!’ and he turned round he says, and walked out the same way as I come in. That was his tale. It was true.

You said you were at the prison camp for about a year. Did that take you up to the end of the war?

Yes, yes.

When were you demobbed then?

In Southminster I was the first one to be demobbed.

Really?

Because I was home. I was lucky, I had three Christmas, Christmases at home.

Oh, you’d had leave then, you were able to get home?

Yes, yes. So I was on leave in nineteen hundred and eighteen. I was home….1918 on leave and the Armistice was signed. So the soldiers who were on leave like me, they grumbled, said why should we go back to France, then ship us back there, ship us back when we are already in England. So I used to see the paper and it came out one morning – all men that are home on leave-no need to go back to France.

So you were able to stay there, stay at home then?

At that time I knew a farmer in Kent, so I explained to him. So he said ‘I’ll give you a job’. Said ‘You don’t want to go back do you anymore’? So I said ‘No, I don’t want to go back, I’m already in England. Why go back to France then ship me back again’. See, so it came up in the daily paper, if you’d got a job to go to, report to the Crystal palace. So I borrowed a bicycle and cycled to the Crystal Palace and got me discharge.

One question you asked of me; while I was at the main cage with the prisoners of war the Americans wanted two thousand for Bordeaux. The Americans were putting up big warehouses. They’d come into the war and they wanted these big warehouses made. We’d lend them two thousand prisoners and we went up to Bordeaux. So I got up to Bordeaux and had several months up there. These prisoners, we used to post sentries all round where they were at work. The guard, the British guard, these prisoners would be putting these big warehouses up. The Americans were coming into the war.