Clive Ward - Trench 31

‘Get back here you.’ Sergeant Shirley was not amused.

‘Excuse me, you can’t talk to me like that,’ said Bertram.

‘Shut up!’ The Sergeant addressed Bertram by talking close to his ear. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Bertram.’

‘Your surname you cretin, and it’s Sergeant to you.’

‘Ward, Sergeant.’

‘Right Ward, drop them for the medical examiner there’s a good lad.’

Reluctantly Bertram complied while everyone looked on, there was some sniggering from those standing nearby.

‘Oh dear, not very well made are we?’

‘With all respect Sergeant we’re only fighting the Germans, aren’t we?’

Everyone started to laugh at Bertram’s reply.

‘Silence you lot… so you think you’re a comedian do you Ward? Come and see me later. I have a little job for you, we’ll see who has the last laugh.’

Once they had passed the various tests the men were given lunch, their first army meal and then they marched back to the hall to make a solemn promise to do their duty. The ceremony was led by the recruiting officers. New soldiers swore an oath of allegiance to the King upon a Bible. The oath required every new recruit to swear to 'faithfully defend His Majesty, His Heirs and successors…against all enemies'. Also thrown in for good measure, each man was required to promise to obey the authority of 'all Generals and Officers set over them'. Lastly, all recruits had to pledge to serve as long as the war lasted. They all now belonged to the British Army and from that moment everything changed.

The men were split into groups of twenty-four and marched to the stores to collect their bedding and temporary uniforms. From there they made their way to their new temporary accommodation, a large brick building consisting of four, twenty-four man rooms, two on the ground floor and two on the first floor, with a central staircase and central latrines on each floor, along with a few smaller rooms.

It had been a long day so far. Thankfully, once they’d been allocated a bed space, shown around their new living quarters and had listened to a briefing about the next day’s events, the rest of that day was theirs.

Archie and David were trying out their new beds.

‘Not bad, not as good as my bed at home, but I’ve slept on worse and that dinner wasn’t too bad either.’ David said.

‘So, this is it, we are soldiers now, how does that make you feel David?’ Archie asked.

‘I’ll let you know in a few days,’ David replied, lying flat on his back puffing away on a cigarette.

‘Is that when we plan our escape?’ Bertram asked.

‘Talking of escape Bertie… here comes your new best friend, fat Sergeant Shirley.’ Archie had spotted the Sergeant striding through the door.

‘Oh bugger.’

‘Private Ward, I’ve been looking for you,’ Sergeant Shirley said, before informing Bertram of his punishment.

After speaking to Bertram, the Sergeant told everyone to make their way to the cook-house for tea. By five o’clock the men were all back in their billets, apart from Bertram, who had been instructed to stay behind. He’d been put on cook-house fatigues as punishment, washing and drying pans and peeling spuds for the next day’s dinner. It was almost eight o’clock before Bertram returned to his billet and although he was tired he was determined to record the day’s events in his diary.

Dear Diary,

My first day. The day started well until I was bawled at by this rather arrogant, short, fat Sergeant who, after giving us what for, ordered us all to strip off for the medical. I can’t believe I’ve been put on cook-house fatigues for not dropping my undergarments quick enough. But nothing could have prepared me for what came next. The most embarrassing part of the whole medical was when the medical examiner examined my scrotum to see if the testicles were descended and normal.

He didn’t have to do what he did? I could have told him they were correct. I can’t explain what he did, but it was most uncomfortable. But spare a thought for the handful of lads that failed the medical for a variety of reasons, wrong height, wrong weight, bad eyesight, bad heart, TB, syphilis, to name but a few. Training starts tomorrow, I can’t wait to start, but I feel I might end up regretting those words. And when the training is over I look forward to embarking on this adventure of a lifetime. Well, that’s what they told me when I signed up for this war.

Archie had made good his promise to write to Charlotte about his first day. He had spent some time composing his letter in his head before committing it to paper.

My Dearest Charlotte,

I know I’m only a short distance away, but I did promise I’d write to you straight away. I hope you don’t mind. Well, my love, I am now a soldier in the King’s army and feel very proud. We all passed the medical with flying colours, even Bertram!

They are saying we will be here for two weeks before we leave to do our basic training. We will find out tomorrow where we’ll be going, I hope it’s not too far away. In the mean time we’ll just be doing some initial training, we start tomorrow morning at six o’clock.

Today we were given a strange blue uniform and cardboard cap badges. We were the lucky ones, some of the lads didn’t even get a uniform. They told us we’ll get our proper uniforms soon and a rifle. It wouldn’t surprise me if the rifles were made of cardboard too. It’s understandable really with the number of troops here, it’s overwhelming.

We are lucky to be billeted in the barracks. It’s that full here some of the men have been billeted in the surrounding church halls, schools and warehouses.

Sorry I have to stop writing now, it’s lights out in ten minutes. I wonder what tomorrow will bring. I will write again soon.

Whilst stationed at Normanton Barracks the men were allowed to book out at the guardroom after tea and visit their loved ones, but they all had to be back in their billets before lights out. It took a few days for the men to adapt to the routine of army life. Bertram continued to keep a record of events.

Dear Diary,

Our day starts at five-thirty when the bugler calls reveille to wake us all up. After a quick tidy up of the room we grab a brew before fitness training at six-thirty. Wash, shave then breakfast at eight-thirty, and then we spend all morning drilling on the parade square. Twelve-thirty lunch, before returning for more fitness training and you’ve guessed it, more bloody drill until four-fifteen.

If you are the unlucky one or your drill isn’t up to the required standard or you have a Sergeant that has it in for you, you might be detailed off for fatigues or work parties. I’ve just about had my fill of fitness and drill and fatigues. When is the real training going to begin?

Returning from the cook house on their fifth day of training, the three friends relaxed until lights out. As yet, none of them had taken the opportunity to visit their loved ones.

‘I wonder what the German training is like? I can’t wait to get over there, and out drill them!!! So far that’s all we know how to do, oh and running, we are now trained in running,’ said Bertram, lying on his bed.

‘At least we’ll be able to outrun them if things get a bit scary out there, eh Bertie,’ Archie replied.

After some basic training close to home, the 10 thbattalion moved to Wool in Dorset. The recruits were put under the command of a regular officer of the Sherwood Foresters called Captain Stackhouse, an officer of high standing and a leader of men.

All new recruits underwent months of basic training in various camps dotted all over the country, where they were turned into soldiers and the new officers learned to lead their men. Inside these camps the transformation from civilians to soldiers began and they said goodbye to their old lives.