Clive Ward - Trench 31

The men arrived at Wool expecting to be wearing khaki or at the very least be able to lay their hands on a weapon of some description, but there was nothing. Not only did the majority of men have no uniform or weapon, there were no food rations for them either. However, the morale of the men was still good, but they were hungry after the journey from the Midlands.

‘What are we supposed to eat? It didn’t take long for things to start going downhill,’ Bertram said, shaking his head.

‘We can’t carry on like this, no proper uniforms, no rifles and now no food,’ Archie replied.

‘And we’re still in bloody Blighty. What will it be like when we move over there?’ said one of the men who was standing nearby.

The Captain who had broken the news to the men that the rations hadn’t arrived, ordered them to go into the woods and villages to forage for food and so that is what they did.

‘I can’t believe it. What sort of army is this? An army marches on its stomach doesn’t it? That’s what I’ve always been told, they didn’t tell us we had to chase our dinner around the woods,’ said Bertram.

‘Come on, we’d best start foraging hadn’t we, before there’s bugger all left,’ replied David.

It wasn’t long before the local countryside was crawling with men all looking for something to eat, nothing edible was safe. Archie and David descended on one local farm, while Bertram tried his luck at another. After explaining their situation, the farmer gave them a dozen eggs, a large bag of apples and a large loaf of freshly baked bread. They all returned to camp that night happy with their prizes, including Bertram, who returned with the biggest prize of all, a small pig, which he walked into camp on a piece of string.

‘Bertram you are a hero, you have a pig!’ exclaimed one of the other soldiers.

‘Yes, I exchanged him for my spare pocket watch. I’ve decided to call him Shirley after that fat training Sergeant at Normanton Barracks.’

‘That’s a kind gesture Bertie. I’m sure he would love that,’ Archie replied.

‘It looks like we’re feasting tonight boys, Shirley will feed us all,’ David said.

‘What! Oh no, I don’t want to kill him,’ Bertram answered, with a note of fear in his voice.

‘What are you going to do with him then?’ Archie asked.

‘I’ve grown quite fond of Shirley now.’ Bertram picked up his new friend and cradled him, reluctant to let him go.

‘I’m sorry Bertie old mate, the pig will have to go,’ David insisted. ‘A pet pig won’t be much use where we’re going old chap.’

Bertram looked down at his new friend with sad eyes and reluctantly agreed.

‘Ok, if you must, but I refuse to be responsible for Shirley’s murder.’

‘It will be painless Bertram,’ Archie assured him.

‘Well, who’s doing the deadly deed? Any volunteers?’ Bertram asked.

The men just sat looking at each other, nobody appeared to want to be responsible for dispatching the pig. Then David took out his knife, picked up Shirley and walked into the nearby woods, out of sight. A few minutes later they all heard a squeal. Shirley was no more. David soon arrived back with the dead pig.

‘Bloody hell look at all your glum faces. It’s only a pig, if you have a problem killing a bloody pig what are you going to be like over there?’ David had thrown his marker down and from then on, he was regarded as someone not to be messed with. ‘Right, get that fire going.’

That night they sat around campfires and feasted. It seemed to them to be an amusing way to spend their first night at training camp. Tomorrow, the real training would begin.

The next morning the new Quarter Master arrived at the camp. A Lieutenant, S.J. Pearsall, whose nickname was ‘Willie.’ From that day forward there was always rations forthcoming for the men. Soon other officers arrived and took up their posts, first the Adjutant, and then the Company Commanders.

Archie, Bertram and David were now part of C Company, commanded by a Major Moran. The officer that stood out most of all was the new second in command, Major J.C. Keown, who arrived wearing a bowler hat and carrying an umbrella. The men sat around watching the comings and goings.

‘Look at him,’ said Archie, ‘he looks like a detective.’

‘The case of the murdered pig… Who killed Shirley?’ Everyone started to laugh at David’s reply.

‘You’re not funny, we all know who the murderer was, don’t we David? I liked that pig.’ Bertram still hadn’t forgiven David.

‘So did my stomach!’ David answered.

The small group of officers had a mammoth task ahead of them and only a short time to complete it. The men were divided into companies and platoons and the job of the officers was to knock the men into shape, until they resembled a battalion of soldiers to be proud of, and this they did. It was said by some of the surviving members of the battalion, that the Commanding Officer, Captain Stackhouse, achieved this with an iron hand and the men respected him for it.

Captain Stackhouse’s job was done and he returned to the first Battalion. He was replaced by Lieutenant Colonel W E Banbury of the Indian Army, who took over the 10th Battalion. Sadly, Captain Stackhouse was later killed at Neuve Chapelle.

Bertram continued to write in his diary, although the entries became intermittent.

Dear Diary,

We are now part of the 51 stInfantry Brigade, 17 thDivision so I’ve been informed, whatever that means! It seems like new officers are joining us on a daily basis.

Today we were introduced to our new section commander and he’s an odd chap. Rumour has it he wanted to be an officer but didn’t make the grade, so they made him a Corporal. I have heard Corporal Robinson was an accountant before he joined up, this is evident in the way he has to record every small detail in a notebook he carries with him.

The weather has been damn wretched since we got here, we are still living in tents which are made from very inadequate canvas, one would be dryer sleeping outside. There is icy mud everywhere, even inside the tents, sometimes it is two inches high. The tent pegs lose their hold all the time, causing the tents to collapse. Blankets, bedding, clothes and the men end up plastered with mud. If these conditions keep up it could have an effect on our health and morale.

We heard one of the other regiments organised a strike against the weather conditions, this movement met with no encouragement from the 10 th.

Would you believe it, we actually have an officer in charge of drains, a Lieutenant Giles! Drains are being dug continually, zigzagging in every direction, we navigate from tent to tent using old duckboards, there are large holes everywhere. I fear if I slip I will disappear never to be seen again down one of these chasms. One of the lads saw a rat this morning, I hope this isn’t a sign of things to come.

We all enjoy the training so far, although it’s getting a little repetitive with virtually no equipment. If we are not running around the countryside, we are doing drill or bayonet practice which is easy and great fun, all we have to do is run at sacks full of straw screaming our heads off. Even I can do that. I’m sure the sacks will be easy to outwit in a battle situation!!

Bertram didn’t have to wait too long. The training was about to change from basic to more advanced. It began with learning field craft (the basics of movement in the field) then they were introduced to night operations and route marching. Later, when some rifles arrived, it was weapons handling, marksmanship and learning how to dig proper trenches and living in them. The average working day was around ten hours.