1st July 1916

On the first day of July at seven thirty precisely thousands of British soldiers got up out of their trenches to begin the 'big push' that they hoped would soon end the war. Nine out of ten of these battalions were 'Kitchener's New Army' battalions. There were fears they would not be good enough for the 'Territorials' so Kitchener had to call them the 'New Army.' Most had volunteered in the heady emotional days of 1914 desperate not to miss the excitement of a short European war. By now they realised just how 'real' war differed from the imaginary.

For over a week the guns had been shelling the enemy trenches. More than a million and a half shells had headed towards the Germans and hopes among many were high, success in some minds appeared inevitable. The long blister educing marches, the combat training, learning how to dig trenches, understanding the army and its many peculiar ways, and most of all quickly understanding that the British soldier is better than any other at moaning about his lot, yet just gets on and does it well! All this had been suffered over the past year or so, and now it was going to be put into practice. Few had any experience of trench life let alone war. Most were enthusiastic about the adventure but apprehensive about how they would behave in action. All feared the bullet with 'their name on it.'

As the shelling stopped they stood in the trenches crowded together as they had been all night, many sleeping standing up. With the taste of strong army rum in their mouths, expect for the chap lying on the ground being kicked by the Sergeant Major for drinking too much and having passed out, the watched the sun rise in the blue sky and listened for the sudden silence. At seven twenty eight the mines dug under the German front line exploded. There was a sudden trembling under the feet, the earth began to shake quite violently in some places and then, erupting like a volcano and spewing earth, and sometimes men, hundreds of feet into the air the result of sixty thousand pounds of amonal explosive appeared. The noise was deafening and high above spotter aircraft were thrown about as the air swept past them. Two minutes later the men attacked.

Now a great deal of planning had gone into this operation. The French being 'bled dry' by Von Falkheneins army at Verdun were desperate for a united Anglo-French attack to relieve pressure on them. Haig had insisted on attacking at Ypres over well known ground, but Joffre the French commander wanted an attack in the Somme region. Haig had no choice but to agree, reluctantly, to attack over what he saw as difficult ground. The plans were laid and much effort was put into training the men involved. They listened eagerly as this was the reason for their enrolment and they were not intending to fail. Morale was high.

In 1914 many had derided the 'sportsmen' of the land for not rushing to the colours when war was declared. Many wrote indignant letters to the press demanding 'sport' should be stopped and all players enlisted. Women, with no idea about war other than a romantic one, gave out white feathers in the street in an attempt to embarrass men into enlisting. Football players in particular were subjected to abuse with many demanding the League was stopped until wars end. In November 1914 the Heart of Midlothian first team squad enlisted. This brought to an end the debate about football and sport in general being played during the war. The announcement of their joining the colours brought others from Raith Rovers, Falkirk and Hibernian to join them, along with over a thousand other citizens. The Mossend 'Cowpunchers' as Mosend Burnvale F.C. were known enlisted en masse. Many of them destined never to return. They took their place with the rest on this fateful day.

The problem, as any general will tell you, with plans is a simple one, they always fall apart the minute the battle begins. The end of the shelling followed by the mines erupting indicated to the surviving Germans, hidden deep underground in well constructed shelters, that the attack was on. The two minutes between the mines going off was sufficient for them to place the machine guns at the ready and prepare for defence. As the men clambered out of their trenches and made their way through their own wire the defenders sent up coloured rockets asking for artillery aid. The attackers then found themselves subject to intense machine gun, rifle and artillery barrage. From all sides the seemingly destroyed enemy were firing at them. Those that made it to the enemy wire found that most of it had remained intact, the shells that had fallen were either dud or incapable of cutting wire. The tac-tac of machine guns, the crack of falling shells mixed with the screams of the wounded and shouting men. Confusion reigned everywhere.

In the southern attack some distance was achieved and enemy trenches captured and held, however further north little advance was made. The footballers of George McCrae's battalion,* the 16th Royal Scots, did manage to find a place in the enemy line they held on to. This small group comprising the four regiments in the brigade and stragglers from elsewhere, fought a lonely hard battle yet managed to keep the ground taken. Others continued the advance and reached the target of Contalmaison only to be taken prisoner. One of the few successful advance in that part of the line. Possibly the furthest advance of any brigade that day. Their division, the 34th, suffered over eighty percent casualties on the first of July. The Tyneside Irish being wiped out! Making the footballers effort all the more remarkable.

Just under sixty thousand casualties fell that day, almost twenty thousand dead. Three Hearts players died, and several were severely injured. The nation suffered it greatest ever defeat at that time. The Heart of Midlothian never recovered from the effects of the war on their playing staff and the potential Championship side were regarded by the whole of Scotland as winners in a differing sense after the war. Those who demanded others 'go,' rarely went themselves, few made much effort to aid the returning wounded, and some would say in that respect life for those who served has not changed all that much, has it?



Jack Alexander's excellent book 'McCrae's Battalion' tells the story of these men. It covers the Edinburgh story leading up to and through the war, and what happens to the survivors. For those interested in the Great War, Edinburgh or the Heart of Midlothian this book is a 'must read!'