William James Bradbeer was born in the spring of 1888, the youngest of eight children to Alfred and Jane Bradbeer from Bridgwater in Somerset. Alfred was a carriage trimmer, fitting out the train coaches for the local railways.
Sadly, William lost both of his parents in 1910; by this point he was 22, and was working as a schoolmaster along with his older brother Alfred. Five of the Bradbeer siblings were living together by this point, along with Sidney Palfrey, a photographer, who was boarding with them.
On 27th December 1911, William married Selina Nurse, who was also from Bridgwater, and whose father was a master mariner. The couple did not have any children together.
There is little evidence of William’s life after his marriage. He was enlisted in the Royal Garrison Artillery during the war, although no details of his military service are available. The battalions provided support in key forts primarily along the south coast of England, but also in places like the Channel Isles, Malta and Sierra Leone. Without Second Lieutenant Bradbeer’s records, it is impossible to know specifically where he served, but it would seem likely that he remained in England during the war.
The last years of William’s are also shrouded in mystery; he passed away on 8th August 1920, at the age of 32. I have been unable to uncover a cause of death, but it seems likely to have been an illness, as there is nothing in the contemporary media to suggest anything unusual or untoward.
William James Bradbeer lies at rest in the Wembdon Road Cemetery in his home town of Bridgwater. Sadly, though, his grave is also lost to time, and I was unable to pinpoint its location. In death, as in his later years, William remains a mystery.
Note: The grave at the top of this page, however, is of a couple of his Bradbeer relatives, buried in the same cemetery.
One of the things I have found during this research is that occasionally a mystery will come to light. In the case of the gravestone in the Somerset village of Coxley – nestled on the main road between Wells and Glastonbury – it was the very identity of a person buried there that threw me.
The headstone in question simply says “WG Collins served as Private G Clark in the Army Veterinary Corps”, but the research tools I normally use drew blanks.
Unfortunately, the Findagrave website does not have the burial listed under either name, so that too was a dead end.
The British Newspaper Archives site – a record of media across the UK covering 250 years – similarly has no entry for either name around the time of his death, which suggests it was either not ‘out of the ordinary’ (not headline-grabbing) or his death and funeral were just not submitted to the local paper.
Fold3 – which stores military records – has a record for 9978 Private Geoffrey Clark. The Register of Soldiers’ Effects confirms that a war gratuity was awarded to his sister, Ada Jane Waldron, after his death.
And, as it turns out, it was Ada who proved the key to the mystery of her brother. Working on the basis that Ada’s maiden name was Collins, I used Ancestry.co.uk to try and track her down. The site presented a family tree featuring both an Ada Jane Collins and, more importantly, a William George Collins, and the game was afoot…
William George Collins was born in the Somerset village of Coxley in the summer of 1889. He was the youngest of seven children – Ada was his oldest sister – to James Collins, an agricultural labourer, and his wife Jane.
Following the death of his mother in 1901, and his father a decade later, it’s evident that William wanted to make his way in the world. By the 1911 census, he had moved to Wales, working as an attendant at the Glamorgan County Lunatic Asylum. The asylum, which was in Bridgend, South Wales, was home to nearly 900 patients, and William acted as one of the 120 staff looking after them.
War was on the horizon, however, and the mystery surrounding William returned once more. Military records for William (or Geoffrey) are limited; he enlisted in the Royal Army Veterinary Corps in the summer of 1915 and was shipped to France in September of that year.
There is no record why he enlisted under the name Geoffrey Clark, nor does there seem to be any evidence of either names in his family. As to his passing, there is nothing to give a hint to how he died. All that can be confirmed for certain is that he passed away at the University War Hospital in Southampton on 25th October 1918, at the age of 32.
William’s probate records give his address as Railway Terrace in Blaengarw and show that his effects went to his sister, Ada.
William George Collins – also known as Geoffrey Clark – lies at peace in the graveyard of Christ Church, in his home village of Coxley.
Joseph Wilkinson was born in the village of Greystoke, Cumbria in the summer of 1888. His parents were John and Margaret Wilkinson, and he had two siblings, also called John and Margaret. Joseph’s father worked as a railway signalman, and the industry employed a large number of people in the village.
Joseph’s life was to take a different turn, however, and it was likely the railway that took him there. He next appears on the 1911 census, boarding in a house in the village of Wedmore in Somerset. At 23 years old, he is listed as a Solicitor’s Cashier.
As with so many other fallen men and women, Joseph’s trail goes cold. There is not enough evidence to detail his military career – he joined the Royal Army Service Corps as a Driver and was promoted to Sergeant.
The UK Army Register of Soldiers’ Effects show that he was married to a woman called Ethel, although there are no records of their wedding. The document also confirms that he died at the Union Hospital in Winchester, Hampshire on 17th October 1918, but there is no cause of death given. He was 31 years old.
“He did his duty” says his impressive gravestone, but it is tragic that that duty is lost to time.
Sergeant Joseph Wilkinson lies at rest in the churchyard of St Mary’s in Wedmore, the Somerset village that came to be his home.
William Collard was born in August 1891, the youngest of two children to William and Agnes Collard from Wedmore in Somerset. William Sr was a carter for a local miller and his son followed him into labouring when he left school.
William’s life seems to have been a tragic one. His mother died in 1910, while his sister Mabel passed a year later.
William married Eva Heal, a woman from the same village, in April 1914. The couple didn’t go on to have any children.
There is limited information relating to William’s military service. What is apparent is that he enlisted in the Royal Army Medical Corps, presumably at some point after the start of the Great War.
Private Collard’s battalion, the 3rd South Midlands, were based in Essex and were shipped to France in March 1915. There is, however, no evidence that William went with his troop. His training must have gone well, however, and he was promoted to Lance Corporal.
Details of his death are vague; William’s gravestone confirms he passed on 18th April 1915; the cause of his death was not reported. He was 23 years of age.
A brief notice in a local newspaper gives a little more information:
Mr W Collard [Senior], of Wedmore, one of the patients at the Country Sanatorium, received last week the news of the death of his soldier son. The funeral took place on Thursday at Wedmore in the same grave as the mother and only other member of the family, a sister of the deceased.
Shepton Mallet Journal: Friday 30th April 1915
William Collard lies at rest in the churchyard of St Mary’s Church in his home village of Wedmore, Somerset.
William is remembered in on a plaque in Bristol Cathedral; this commemorates the fourteen members of the 3rd South Midland Field Ambulance who fell during the war.
Comment should also be made of William’s father. In the space of four and a half years, he had lost his wife and both his children. He was already in a sanatorium when his son died. He too passed away, in December 1924, at the age of 58.
William’s widow, Eva, never remarried. She went on to live the age of 96, and passed away in Poole, on the Dorset coast.
William Newman was born in Dorset in 1880, the oldest of six children to George and Margaret Newman. George worked as an agricultural labourer and a carter, and, after leaving school, William followed suit.
William’s life has been a challenge to piece together; however, I have managed to sketch together some information from a number of sources.
By the 1911 census, he was living with his now widowed father and three of his siblings. Listed as single, he was working as a labourer.
When William joined up, he enlisted in the Devonshire Regiment, before being transferred over to the Labour Corps. He was assigned to 652 Agriculture Company, serving on the home front, presumably somewhere close to home.
There are no details of Private Newman’s death – contemporary newspapers do not highlight anything out of the ordinary or sudden about his passing. I can only assume, therefore, that he passed through natural causes, perhaps influenza or pneumonia.
He died on 29th October 1918, in the village of Martock, Somerset. He was 37 years old.
It appears that William did not marry – his war pension was allocated to his sisters Edith, Alice and Louisa and no spouse is mentioned (nor is his father).
William Newman lies at rest in the quiet churchyard of St Margaret’s in the Somerset village of Tintinhull.
Francis George Richards (or Frank) was born in 1889, the oldest of five children to William and Rhoda Richards. William was an agricultural labourer and the family lived in his home village of Long Sutton in Somerset.
Frank followed his father into agriculture, and, by the 1911 census, was working as a carter.
And that is where the trail of Private Richards goes cold.
What records do exist confirm that he enlisted in the Wiltshire Regiment, serving at its depot in Devizes. This suggests he was part of the 7th (Service) Battalion, raised through the Kitchener Scheme.
The battalion were shipped to France in September 1915, before being moved on to the Balkans, where they fought in the Battle of Horseshoe Hill and the Battles of Dorian. As there are no records of Private Richards’ service, it is not possible to confirm how involved in the fighting in Europe he was, or whether he remained on the Home Front.
Frank’s death also remains a mystery. All that can be said for sure is that he died in hospital on 11th April 1917, in a hospital in England. He was 27 years old. He does not appear to have married, and his pension was assigned to his father.
Frank George Richards lies at rest in the quiet graveyard of Holy Trinity Church in his home village of Long Sutton.
There are some times where no amount of research on a person will reveal their information.
William George Allen is one such person.
The only details I have been able to uncover for this man is his gravestone and the Army Register of Soldier’s Effects.
William Allen was a driver for the Royal Field Artillery. His troop – the 156th Camberwell Brigade – was raised in South London in early 1915, although I have no record of when Driver Allen enlisted.
At some point, the 156th Brigade were stationed at Port Victoria – the fort on the Isle of Grain in Kent.
It was during their time at the fort that William died. He passed on 7th August 1916 and there is no cause of death recorded, and he does not appear in any contemporary newspapers. This might suggest that his death was not out of the ordinary or unexpected.
Unusually for the Register of Soldier’s Effects, nobody is listed for the war gratuity payments to be made (this would normally be a next of kin – father, mother or spouse). In total a payment of £6 19s 2d was paid out, not an extravagant amount for that regiment.
So Driver Allen remains a mystery. A (presumably) young life lost too soon, and lost to time.
William George Allen lies at peace in the graveyard of St James’ Church in Grain, North Kent, metres from the fort in which he passed.
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?
What I have discovered while researching the Commonwealth War Graves, is that, despite the general themes I find, the people behind the names always have an individual story to tell. Sometimes that story raises an eyebrow, or produces a gasp.
Such was the story of Private Harry Pullen.
What raised the eyebrow? Two words, written on the Army Records of Soldiers’ Effects.
Accidentally Drowned.
Harry Pullen was born in Shirehampton, Gloucestershire in 1886. His father, Robert Edward Pullen, was a carpenter; he and his wife Hannah Presulga Cissy Pullen had three other children, Gwendoline, Herbert and John.
By the time of the 1901 census, Robert is boarding in a house in Bristol with his three sons; Hannah and Gwendoline are not listed (nor do they appear on any other census records I have been able to locate).
Harry is listed as a Telegraph Boy, as is his brother Herbert, but he seemed to have wanted to take up a trade; by 1910 he had moved up to London.
In March of that year, Harry married Harriet Critchell, a spinster fifteen years his senior. On their marriage records for Christ Church, St Pancras, Harry lists himself as a tradesman. The census a year later confirms this – head of the household, he is an Agent for the Provident Clothing Supply Company. (Founded in Bradford, West Yorkshire, Provident’s mission was to help working-class families provide for themselves through the use of vouchers. These were exchanged for goods in local shops, and paid for in affordable instalments.)
Harry enlisted at some point after 1916. His regiment, the 1st (Reserve) Garrison Battalion of the Suffolk Regiment, was not formed until March of that year, and, after starting in Buckinghamshire, it moved to Tilbury in Essex and Gravesend in Kent. The battalion was finally settled in Grain, North Kent in 1918, and it was here that he served.
Here the trail goes frustratingly cold…
Private Pullen’s enlistment and service records are not available, so research is limited to the Army Register of Soldier’s Effects and the Pension Ledgers.
All we have about his death are those two words – Accidental Drowning. There are no contemporary news reports of his passing, which you might expect given the circumstances, so the circumstances surrounding his death are elusive.
Private Pullen died on 10th July 1918. He was 31 years old.
His records confirm that Harriet was entitled to a weekly pension of 15s for the duration of the war and twelves months after.
Harry Pullen is buried in the graveyard of St James’ Church in Grain, Kent, close to where he was stationed.
Edward Carver is one of those soldiers whose details have been lost in the mists of time.
From the information I have been able to gather, Edward was born in Kent in 1887, although I have been unable to track down his parents or any firm census records.
Edward married Violet Ethel Caroline Belsey in April 1918 and enlisted in the Royal West Kent (Queen’s Own) Regiment, although he later transferred to the Labour Corps. I have nothing to confirm, however, in which order these three events happened.
The Army Register of Soldier’s Effects records that Private Carver died at home – Chestnut Street in Sittingbourne – and confirms that this was on 20th November 1918, around six months after he and Violet married.
Nothing in contemporary media suggests that his passing was unusual, so it can only be assumed that something like pneumonia or influenza was the cause of his death. (It might also had had something to do with his transfer of regiments, although, again, I have nothing to confirm that this might be the case.)
Edward Carver lies at rest in the churchyard of St Mary the Virgin in Newington, Kent. He was 31 years old.
As an aside, Edward’s widow, Violet, married an Arthur Beaumont in December 1919, and the couple went on to have two children.
Death and Service 