By September 1914, the war on the Western Front had been raging for over a month, the small professional British Army (The Old Contemptibles) had faced the larger German forces in a series of bloody battles. These veterans had taken heavy casualties and were a spent force - it was clear that a new army was needed to carry on the fight. Encouraged by Lord Kitchener's famous (or infamous) poster, thousands of men answered the national call for recruits. This initial enthusiasm was echoed in cities all across Britain, and no more so than in Birmingham, where amongst the flood of new volunteers was a midland lad named William Butt.
Typical of Great War volunteers, William is remarkable for his ordinariness. He was 37 years old, and a married father with three young daughters. His occupation was listed as a 'bone toy maker' - an original trade - but not one that I imagine brought in a comfortable income. I often wonder why William volunteered at his age. It may have been to help the country in a desperate time, or it could have been for more pragmatic reasons, such as a better wage and the the prestige of becoming a soldier. I think it was probably a little of both.
William enlisted in the 10th battalion (A Company) of the Royal Warwickshire Regiment, the volunteers were then posted to a training camp on Salisbury Plain, where they began the tough training to shape them into soldiers. Over the next three months, William and his fellow recruits (some nearly half his age) underwent endless drill with rigourous route marches to get their fitness up to scratch. Weapon practice consisted of training with spring loaded bayonets wearing padded jackets and firing on the range using the Lee Enfield rifle. Finally the time came when the 10th battalion was ready to be sent to the killing fields of northern France.
The 10th battalion, as part of the 19th (Western Division) arrived in France in July 1915, where they had a first taste of front line life. William and the other lads of the 10th were no doubt used to hardship and deprivation, but the lice and mud of the trenches must have come as a profound shock. In September 1915 the battalion had its first baptism of fire when it took part in the Loos offensive - however, its greatest test would arrive in July 1916 at the Battle of the Somme.
It would be easy - so the rumours went. After all, the Germans had been pounded senseless with heavy guns for a week, you could shoulder your rifle, light up a fag, and stroll across no-mans land to round up the dazed survivors. Some of the old army sweats probably doubted this naive advice and steeled themselves for a grim and costly assault. The defending Germans had simply crawled into their dugouts and sheltered from the storm of shot and shell. When the initial bombardment ceased, they emerged from cover, set up machine guns and waited for the inevitable allied attack.
As part of the 19th Division, the 10th Warwicks were part of the assault to capture the fortified village of La Boiselle. In the early morning gloom of July 3rd, William waited to go 'over the top'. Fellow midland regiments, the Staffords and the Worcesters had already gone forward and soon it would be the turn of the Warwicks. From across no-mans land, the sounds of a savage battle raged from the direction of the village. Finally the moment came, the shrill blasts of the officers' whistles sounded and the Warwicks clambered out of the trenches and into the teeth of the rattling machine guns.
In the ruins of the village, the German defenders had clung on stubbornly - however, battered from all sides by the waves of attacking Tommies, these brave soldiers began to fall back, and by nightfall, the British finally captured the village of La Boiselle. The human cost had been heavy - too heavy -thousands of British and Commonwealth soldiers had been killed in the assault. The 10th Warwicks lost 43 of its men during the battle, and amongst them was Private William Butt.
For William's wife, Annie and their daughters Lizzie, Jessie and little Elsie, the devastation at losing a husband and father can only be imagined.
Like many soldiers of the Great War, William has no known grave. However, his name is recorded on the 'Thiepval memorial to the Missing', which commemorates nearly 70,000 other Commonwealth soldiers.
One day I would like to visit the memorial, and pay my respects to that midland lad that never came home.
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