WW1 service records

[littlebill]

Hi

How easy/difficult is it to obtain WW1 records when you don't know what regiment but you do know full personal history.

I am looking for James William Mcbride who according to family legend was gased and left for dead until a friend went to collect his personal effects and found him still breathing.

Walter Mcbride who was shot in the leg. Both born and bred in manchester.

Any advise would be welcome.

[casalguidi]

Firstly, there isn't a very high success rate for WW1 records but you may get lucky:

http://www.catalogue.nationalarchives.gov.uk/RdLeaflet.asp?sLeafletID=18

It might be a long search with nil result even with a soldier's number.  A place of birth and age was given in the records that I have seen - depends how common a name McBRIDE was in your area?

Have you tried local sources to try and establish a regiment/number ie. absent voter's on the electoral register for those over 21 c1918.  Enquire at the main local library or archives.  Again, the same repositories may have local collections/newspapers which may have reported on casualties and even those enlisting at times.

Hope this helps somewhat.

Casalguidi

[littlebill]

Many thanks for the link I'll give it a go.

Jane

[Swampy]

Hi jane,

Firstly, try searching the World War One medal index online:

http://www.documentsonline.nationalarchives.gov.uk//

Just follow the links. It's a good place to start, and they yield valuable clues about a man's service for just £3.50 per record. Casalguidi is spot on though, the individual service records at Kew are very sparse, many having been destroyed during the last war whilst in storgage. However, the records for men who were wounded, and therefore may have received a pension, are slightly more complete. Be prepared for disappointment though, and bear in mind that those records are not online, and must be inspected in person at Kew.

Your man's name brought this poem to mind, it's one of my favourites, and I thought you might appreciate it.


No Man's Land by Eric Bogle


How do you do Private Willie Macbride, do you mind if I sit here down by your graveside, and rest for a while in the warm summer sun, I've been walking all day and I'm nearly done.

And I see by your gravestone you were only 19, when you joined the great falling in 1915. And I hope you died quick and I hope you died clean, or young Willie MacBride was it slow and obscene?

Did they beat the drum slowly, did they play the fife lowly, the rifles fire over you as they lowered you down, did the bugles play the last post in chorus, did the pipes play the flowers of the forest.

And did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind, in some faithful heart is your memory enshrined. Though you died back in 1915, in some faithful heart are you forever 19?

Or are you a stranger without even a name, enshrined forever behind a glass frame, in an old photograph torn and tattered and stained, and fading to yellow in a brown leather frame?

Did they beat the drums slowly, did they sound the fife lowly, did they sound the death march as they lowered you down. Did the bugles sing the last post in chorus, did the pipes play the flowers of the fallen?

Well the sun's shining now on these green fields of France, a warm wind blows gently and the red poppies dance. The trenches have vanished under the plough, no gas, no barbed wire, no guns firing now.

But here in this graveyard it's still no man's land. The countless white crosses in mute witness stand, to man's blind indifference to his fellow man, to a whole generation who was butchered and damned.

Did they beat the drums slowly, did they sound the fife lowly, did the rifles fire oer ye as they lowered you down. Did the bugles play the last post in chorus, did the pipes play the flowers of the fallen?

I can't help but wonder now, Willie Macbride, do those who lie here know why it is they died? Did you really believe them when you told you the cause? Did you really believe that this war would end wars? For the suffering, the sorrow, the glory the shame, the killing the dying was all done in vain, for young Willie MacBride it's all happened again, and again and again and again and again.

Did they beat the drums slowly did they play the fife lowly, did they sound the dead march as they lowered you down, did the bugles play the last post in chorus, did the pipes play the flowers of the forest?

Regards,
Swampy

[littlebill]

Thanks to all who have posted advice.

thanks for the poem, I have come across this before and it makes you take time out and think doesn't it. James was know in the family as Willie when he was younger and Bill when he old, so it did freak me out a bit when i came across this name. However, McBrides are like amoebas, you start off with just one and by the time you've found date of birth another twenty have sprung up from somewhere!!!!

Regards Jane