Herbert Stevens was born in Lincolnshire in 1873. Little record of his early life remains, but his mother, Rachel, was born in Cambridgeshire.
Herbert had at least two siblings; Arthur was ten years older than him, and had been born in Liverpool. Alice, who was six years Herbert’s junior, was also born in Lincolnshire.
By the time of the 1891 census, Rachel had been widowed. She was living with her three children in Chatham, Kent, and working as a laundress. Arthur was a labourer in the Naval Dockyard, which may be what brought the family so far south. Herbert, aged 18 by this point, was a stable hand, while Alice was still at school. To help make ends meet, the family had also taken in two lodgers, Joan Kitteridge, who was a tailoress, and her daughter, two-year-old Florence.
On Christmas Day 1898, Herbert married Sarah Beed. Her father was a ship’s carpenter, based in the Dockyard, and the couple set up home in neighbouring Gillingham. The young couple went on to have seven children.
Herbert went on to become a labourer in the Dockyard, but then found employment for the local council, working as a carman, or carter (presumably his work in the stables and his affinity with horses stood him in good stead).
War was on the horizon, however. He enlisted in May 1915, enrolling in the Royal Army Service Corps, and gave his trade as a groom. Private Stevens was assigned to the Remount Depot in Romsey, Hampshire, where he would have been partly responsible for the provisioning of horses and mules to army units both in England and abroad.
Split across ten squadrons, at times there were as many as 4,000 horses and mules stables at the Romsey Remount Depot, so Herbert’s life would have been a busy one. It seems, however, to have been a strenuous life too an, on 23rd March 1918, after nearly three years’ service, Private Stevens died of heart failure. He was 45 years old.
Herbert Stevens lies at rest in the Woodlands Cemetery in his adopted home of Gillingham, Kent.
William Henry May was born on 10th August 1854, the oldest of three children to James and Selina May. James was a carpenter’s mate from Plymouth, and the family lived in the Stonehouse area of the city, right next to the dockyard.
Maritime adventure was obviously going to be in William’s blood; by the time of the 1881 census, at the age of 25, he is working as a gunner’s mate and instructor for the Royal Navy. He married a Mary Jane Channing, the daughter of a labourer and fishmonger, in 1879; the coupe were living in their home town of Plymouth.
There are definite gaps in the William’s trail; this may be because he was abroad, or because the documentation relating to him has been lost or destroyed. He next appears on the 1901 census.
By this point, William was a Warrant Officer in the Royal Navy. He is married to Kate Doling, from Gosport in Hampshire, and the couple were living in Sheerness, Kent.
William continued to live close to port; ten years on, and aged 56, he and Kate had moved along the Kent coast to Gillingham, not far from the dockyards at Chatham. The couple had been married 23 years by this point, but had had no children.
By this point, William’s naval service had come to an end. He had served for twenty years, and had reached the rank of Lieutenant, but the census lists him as retired.
War arrived, however, and William’s services were called upon once more. He was assigned to HMS Pembroke, the shore-based naval barracks in Chatham, and served with the rank of Lieutenant Commander.
From this point, however, William’s trail goes cold. His gravestone confirms that he passed away on 23rd March 1919, at the age of 64, but I have been unable to find a cause of death. His entry on the Commonwealth War Graves Commission site confirms he was the husband of the late Kate Emily May, so she too must have passed away at some point after 1911.
William Henry May lies at rest in the Woodlands Cemetery in his adopted home of Gillingham, Kent.
John Chapman was born in October 1892 in the small Somerset village of Ashwick, just to the north of Shepton Mallet. One of five children to Albert and Mary Ann, John followed his father into mining, and, by the time of the 1911 census, he was listed as a coal mining hewer.
In November 1914, he married Louisa Elizabeth Perkins from Shepton Mallet. The war had begun by this point, and before the couple had even been married a year, John had enlisted.
His background made him ideal for the Royal Engineers, and soon Sapper Chapman was bound for France with the British Expeditionary Force. He seems to have been abroad for around six months, and was shipped back to England at the end of April 1916.
John was admitted to a military hospital in Brockenhurst, Hampshire, with bronchial pneumonia, and this is what he succumbed to a matter of weeks later. He died on 2nd June 1916, at the age of 23 years old.
John Chapman is buried in the village of Croscombe, Somerset, where his widow now lived.
An additional tragedy to the loss of this young life is that Louisa was pregnant at this point. The birth of their daughter, Selina, was registered between April and June 1916, and, while I have been unable to pinpoint an exact date of birth for her, it is likely that John never got to see his daughter.
Harry George King was born in Somerset in December 1894, one of nine children to John and Sarah King. John worked as a cabinet maker in Wells, and Harry followed in a similar vein to his father, becoming an upholsterer.
When war broke out, Harry – who stood at 5’3″ (1.6m) tall – enlisted in the Royal Navy as a Cook’s Mate. He trained on HMS Victory I in Portsmouth, before transferring to the HMV Vernon, a land-based ship, also in Portsmouth.
While on leave in 1917, Harry married Alice Trickey, who had also been born in Wells.
Harry’s first sea-going assignment was on the HMS Hermione, which was a guard ship off the Southampton coast. After two years on board, Cook’s Mate King was transferred to another vessel.
The HMS Glatton was a monitor vessel requisitioned by the Royal Navy from the Norwegian fleet at the outbreak of the First World War. After a lengthy refit, she was finally ready for service in the autumn of 1918, and positioned in Dover in preparation for a future offensive across the Channel.
At 6:15 on the evening of 16 September, there was a small explosion in a 6-inch magazine below decks, which then ignited the cordite stored there. Flames shot through the roof of one of the turrets and started to spread. The fire was not able to be brought under control, and there were concerns that, if the ship’s rear magazine exploded, the presence of the ammunition ship Gransha only 150 yards (140 m) away risked a massive explosion that would devastate Dover itself. The decision was taken to torpedo the Glatton, in the hope that the incoming flood water would quash the fire.
In the event, sixty men aboard the Glatton were killed outright, with another 124 men injured, of whom 19 died later of their injuries. This included Cook’s Mate King.
While the incident wasn’t reported in the media of the time, Harry’s funeral was; it gives a little more insight into the tragedy.
News reached Wells… that 1st Class Cook’s Mate Harry George King… was lying in a hospital at Dover suffering from severe burns caused through an internal explosion on the ship on which he was serving. His wife (…to whom he was married 12 months ago) and his sister at once proceeded to the hospital, where they arrived only a few minutes before he died.
The unfortunate young man had sustained shocking injuries and was conscious for only two hours on Friday. He lost all his belongings in the explosion.
Wells Journal: Friday 27th September 1918.
Harry George King was only 27 years old when he died. He lies at rest in Wells Cemetery, Somerset.
Harry’s widow, Alice, did not remarry; the couple had not had any children, and she passed away in their home town of Wells, in January 1974.
Victor Charles Edelsten Bracey was born in October 1897, the only child of William and Florence Bracey. William was a physician and surgeon, practicing in Lancashire when Victor was born. The young family soon moved south, however, and by the time of the 1901 census, they were living in Wedmore, Somerset, where William had taken up as the village’s general practitioner.
Military records for Victor are not available, but his life can readily be pieced together from newspaper reports of his death and the de Ruvigny’s Roll of Honour, published after the war.
TWO PILOTS KILLED IN THE NEW FOREST
Two air fatalities have occurred within twenty-four hours of each other in the New Forest. On Saturday [22nd September 1917] Second Lieutenant Ernest Hargrave’s machine nose-dived from the height of 200ft, and crashed to earth.
Second Lieutenant Victor Bracey was flying on Sunday morning at a height of 300ft, when his machine turned and came down in a spinning nose-dive.
At the inquests verdicts of “Death by misadventure” were returned.
Western Gazette: Friday 28th September 1917
BRACEY, VICTOR CHARLES EDELSTEN, 2nd Lieut., RFC, only child of William Edelsten Bracey, LRCP [Licentiate of the Royal College of Physicians], Lieut. (Hon.) RAMC (retired), by his wife, Florence Marion, dau. of the late James Canning Gould.
[Victor was] educated St Peter’s School, Weston-super-Mare, and Blundell’s School, Tiverton, where he was a member of the OTC [Officers’ Training Corps]; passed into the Royal Military Academy in April 1915; joined the Inns of Court OTC in December 1916; was gazetted 2nd Lieut. RFC [Royal Flying Corps] 27 April 1917, obtaining his wings in July, and was killed in an aerial accident at the Beaulieu Aerodrome, Hampshire, 23 September, while testing a new machine.
A brother officer wrote that he was a gallant gentleman and a most skilful pilot.” He was a keen cricketer and footballer, and while at Blundell’s played in the First Cricket XI and the Second Football XV, and was also captain of the First Hockey XI; later played for the Royal Military Academy, Woolwich, and the RFC Rugby Football XV at Oxford.
de Ruvigny’s Roll of Honour, 1914-1919
A note on Second Lieutenant Bracey’s Roll of Honour states that he was ineligible for medals as he saw no overseas service; this seems to have been challenged by Victor’s father in 1921, but nothing confirms whether this anything was subsequently awarded.
Victor Charles Edelsten Bracey lies at rest in the churchyard of St Mary’s in Wedmore, where his father continued to practice. He died, aged just 19 years of age.
William’s prominence in the village played a big part in Victor’s legacy. A Memorial Fund was set up; this helped fund “necessitous cases for medical requirements and for conveying patients to hospitals“. The Victor Bracey Cup was also awarded into the 1940s for sporting achievement in the schools he had attended.
When carrying out research on the Commonwealth War Graves, information remains tantalisingly elusive.
Sometimes just you can chance upon one document and the life of the person behind the name is laid out in front of you.
But in the majority of cases, the someone’s history has to be pieced together from a combination of sources.
Henry Harry Trevitic was born in around 1879 in Burton-upon-Trent, Staffordshire.
There are no records of Trevetics in and around that area at that time, nor are there any permutations of his surname – Trevethick or Trevithick, for example.
The first evidence I have found of Harry is on his military service records. He enlisted in the King’s Royal Rifles in August 1897, listing himself as a ‘cycle fitter’. The document asks if the applicant has previously served in the armed forces; Harry’s reply is that he is in the militia – the 4th Worcestershire Regiment.
Rifleman Trevetic’s military career is extensive; his records show continual service in the King’s Royal Rifles from 1897 to his death in 1915. This included three years in South Africa, two in India and eight months as part of the British Expeditionary Force within weeks of the outbreak of World War One.
The 1901 census finds Rifleman Trevetic at a convalescent home in Hanbury, near Droitwich, along with eleven other soldiers. He is marked as a Visitor, rather than a Resident, so it can be assumed that the owner of the home, whose brother is party of the military party, has put them up for the night (or longer).
Harry next turns up in 1902 when, in December, he married Frances Boyes in Southampton. His military career continued, however, and moving to the 1911 census, and Rifleman Trevetic is barracked in Woolwich. He is listed as married, while Frances is also based in the town, in female quarters.
While the details of his early life are pretty scarce, those surrounding his passing are much more in depth. Because of the circumstances, an inquest into his passing was ordered into his death; this included four pretty in-depth witness statements.
In January 1914, Rifleman Trevetic was appointed as an assistant to Captain Adjutant Makins in Winchester. In August of that year he was shipped with Makins to France and remained his servant.
On 14th September, Captain Makins was badly injured, and Harry helped carry him to the church in the village of Soupir in France, which was acting as a dressing station.
In Makins’ own words “there were 300 wounded closely packed, occupying the whole of the floor space. The groans and the smell, night and day were most distressing. Fresh wounded were constantly being carried in and dead carried out. Shell fire was constant and the general conditions were such as would severely try a highly strung man. During all this time, [Rifleman Trevetic] was my only attendant.”
Makins was moved to various hospitals in France, always accompanied by Rifleman Trevetic and eventually invalided home. Given the seriousness of Captain Makins’ injury, he was permitted to bring Harry back home with him.
On 1st March 1915, Captain Makins was passed fit for general service, and rejoined his battalion, along with his servant. Conscious that he may be sent back to the Front at any point, he warned Harry to be prepared for France again.
Captain Makins’ testimony takes up the tragic story.
On March 9th, he came to me and asked if I would see the Doctor on his behalf privately. He told me that every since his time in the dressing station at Soupir, his nerves had been ajar, and that he could neither eat nor sleep. He asked whether I could get the Doctor to do something for him, as he feared if he went sick in the ordinary way, he would be passed unfit for the front, and be unable to accompany me there, which he was very keen on doing.
Later in the day he came to me and asked me to take no notice of what he had said in the morning, that as a matter of fact he had taken to drink, which was the true cause of his trouble, and that he was entirely giving it up and would be right within a week.
His whole manner was strange and he appeared under the impression that I had discharged him. This was the first intimation I had of any strangeness in his manner.
Being busy I did not pay the attention to it that perhaps I should, more especially as I knew him to be a thoroughly sober and reliable man.
The following day he called me as usual.
About 8:30 am I was called from the mess and asked to proceed to my room at once. On arrival, I found the door locked, and various Officers’ servants outside. The key was on the inside of the door but so turned that the body of Rifleman Trevetic could be seen through the keyhole lying on the floor.
I broke open the door and found Rifleman Trevetic shot through the heart, my revolver lying by his side. The revolver contained one empty shell, I cannot say where this was obtained. There were a few rounds of ammunition in the room, but the marks did not correspond nor am I able to trace any similar ammunition in the Fort.
Captain G Makins’ statement, Inquest from Rifleman Trevetic’s service records
Three other servicemen gave statements into the tragic events of that day, and all summed up Harry’s demeanour in the same way as Captain Makins.
Rifleman Trevetic has throughout his service to me, been a model servant, and had during my time in hospital not only been invaluable to me, but also to the hospitals themselves. He was very happily married, and constantly spoke affectionately of his wife and as far as I can tell, was in no financial difficulties.
Captain G Makins’ statement, Inquest from Rifleman Trevetic’s service records
The inquest found that his death was self-inflicted and “at the time he shot himself he was temporarily insane, and that his mental condition was clearly caused by what he saw and went through when on Active Service in France, and that there was no other contributory cause.”
Temporary insanity, shell shock, war neurosis, combat stress, cowardice; however it was badged Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is commonly recognised these days, but was frowned upon in the Great War.
Sadly, while appearing eager to accompany his superior, it seems that the thought of actually returning to the Western Front was so terrifying to Rifleman Trevetic, that he felt there was only one route out. He was 36 years old.
Harry Trevetic lies at rest in the quiet graveyard of St James’ Church on the Isle of Grain, metres from the fort where he ended his life.
Harry’s widow Frances lived on. Whilst there was no mention of her husband’s death in the newspapers of the time, she received a handsome war gratuity and a pension that reflected Harry’s long service. She went on to marry again in 1917, to Jack Finch, a Sergeant in Harry’s battalion.
Given the stigma around mental health in the early twentieth century, and, it is amazing that the documents have survived as part of the Harry’s military records. The inquest into his death was carried out within days of his passing, and I find the findings of the report forward thinking in the way that it was written.
Harry was obviously a man who experienced way more than his mind was able to cope with – the trauma of that dressing station must have been so much worse than he had seen before during his two decades’ military service. But the report is clear in that it apportions blame for his death on the fighting and bloodshed in France; this was clearly out of character for Harry, and it was his experiences in the field of battle that drove him to his death.
What is less clear is how much Frances was told of his death. While the inquest was decisive, suicide was as much of a stigma as shell shock at that time. Would the King’s Royal Rifles have be honest with her about how he died? Or, while they where internally open, would they have pulled ranks around their own and protected Frances from the truth and themselves from rebuke?
Death and Service 