Dan Snow's History Hit - The Battle of Passchendaele

Episode Date: November 10, 2025

In partnership with Findmypast, Dan narrates the extraordinary story of the Western Front at its most unforgiving. Passchendaele became a byword for the futility, endurance and industrialised slaughter of the First World War.In a battle that lasted from July to November 1917, men, horses and equipment trudged through a swampy moonscape of shell holes in an attempt to crack the German line in Flanders. It became a relentless, attritional push along a low ridge east of Ypres through constant rain, gas attacks and hurricane barrages.Genealogist and specialist researcher for Findmypast, Jen Baldwin, joins Dan to share incredible details about what Passchendeale was really like for the men who were there through the records, newspaper accounts and diaries left by the men in the Findmypast archives.You too can search the incredible records in the Findmypast archive to piece together your own family’s forgotten heroes. To mark Remembrance Day, ​millions of military records are completely free to access and explore from 7th -13th November. Visit findmypast.co.uk/remembrance to start delving into your family’s war stories.Produced by Mariana Des Forges, Jen Baldwin, and edited by Dougal Patmore. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In the summer of 1917, young men from cities and towns and villages across Britain and its massive empire found themselves waiting, as soldiers are wont to do, in trenches around the city of Iperra in Belgium. There was a massive attack in the offing, and these young men would fight and many would die as soldiers are wont. want to do. Some carried postcards from home, pictures of loved ones, a small cake baked by a mother or sister. The men joked with one another, they lit cigarettes in the drizzle, they sure tried not to think about what the next whistle would mean.

The battle that followed was the third battle of Ipra. We call it Passiondale today. It opened on the morning of the 31st of July 1917 when British and Imperial forces, Canadians, Australians, New Zealanders and others, with support from the French, attacked the German army. The main assault went in after about two weeks of bombardment. More than four million shells were fired. It's very difficult for me to describe the landscape that they advanced over.

It's hard sometimes to even call it land-scape. Even before the hundreds and thousands of tons of explosives that had been poured onto that ground that summer, that terrain was smashed. It was devastated. It was dead. The landscape in that part of Belgium has always been a liminal space on the edge of Europe. For centuries, the sea and the land have battled for supremacy and fought themselves to a kind of swampy's tailmate. In more recent centuries, clever human engineers had drained it, but what human hands can build and dig out, they can certainly destroy. In 1914, in 1915 and 16, explosives, shovels and the boots of millions of men and undone the work of those drainage engineers. Ditches were filled

in with rubble, sluice gates smashed, dikes blown to pieces. The ground had reverted into a swamp, a sea of mud, punctuated by mounds of barbed wire and grotesque limbs of the unburied dead from previous assaults. The Battle of Pashendale lasted from the end of July to the middle of November, and it really was the Western Front at its most unforgiving. It's the kind of Western Front that you've seen in the movies. Men and guns and horses, even tanks were swore. followed up in a moonscape of shell holes and liquid mud, while all the time artillery thundered day and night. The intention, the hope, had been to perhaps crack the German line in Flanders,

this top end of the Western Front, force the Germans to send in reserves of men they didn't really have, so grind down those reserves, push forward, threatened the U-boats, which were based along the coast, but actually it just became a relentless, attritional wrestling match along a low ridge to the east of Ypres. All that high-faluting geo-strategy was forgotten

as the men slogged it out through rain in clouds of gas amidst concrete pillboxes. When Canadian troops finally took the ruined village of Pashendale in early November, well, the ridge was won. It was a success, but it was at a cost so stark that Pashendale has become a byword for futility for human insurance, for industrial slaughter of total war.

As with so many battles in the First World War, the casualty figures are hard to comprehend, but each of those digits, each of those individuals was a man with a family, friends and a community. each of them left a gaping hole when he didn't return home. Today, over 100 years later, we're going to be piecing together the stories of some of those men

who gave their lives in the First World War. In today's episode, we're going to tell the story of the Battle of Passiondale as it happened, and we're going to be looking at the testimonies and records that have been found in the Find My Past military archives. The person who's done this incredible research is the genealogist and research specialist for Find My Past Jen Baldwin. She is painstakingly shifted through, documents, newspaper clippings and diaries to piece together the human stories to make sure

they are not forgotten. And if you want to uncover your own family connections to the Great War, find my past.co.com.uk is the place to go. Their detail-rich records and newspaper archives and family tree building features help you delve deeper into your ancestors' lives to really understand their stories and the world they lived in. Just a warning before we proceed, some of this stuff, Some of this testimony is pretty harrowing. They're detailed accounts of human suffering here, so proceed with caution. You're listening to Dan Snow's history. This is the Battle of Passiondale.

Hindsight is a wonderful thing. After the monstrosity of the First World War, people engaged in a huge round of trying to explain, to vindicate, to blame, to wriggle out of it. In 1934, there was a particular bout of hindsight and the argument that it always brings. The British people became focused on a battle that had taken place in the summer of 1917 around Ypres, and it was a battle so nightmarish and bloody that it reignited discussions in pubs and in newspaper columns, and even in the Houses of Parliament, almost 20 years later. These debates were sparked by the publication of the former Prime Minister David Lloyd George's memoir

in which, remarkably, he condemned the Paschendale offensive as a disaster. He said he regretted it during his time in office, and he devoted huge chunks of his book to explaining how he'd attempted to stop the offensive but to no avail. He wrote, Paschondale was indeed one of the greatest disaster of the war, the battle which, with the Somme and Verdun will always rank as the most gigantic, tenacious, grim, futile, and bloody fights ever waged in the history of war. Strong words there from my great-great-grandfather, my great-great-tide, as they say in North Wales.

I'm one of his many descendants. At the time of the battle, though, back in 1917, the public didn't know the Prime Minister harboured these reservations, and they really didn't know much about what was going on at Passiondale. The government, the military, had to censor the horror of those three months. The details were just too grisly, too depressing, and it was worried that they might just simply destroy, the national will to go on. Instead, newspapers and communiques gave coverage that was optimistic

and emphasized progress and heroism rather than talk about the horrific conditions. In the wake of Lloyd George's memoir, a national newspaper ran a submission from an anonymous soldier who wanted to share with the nation his experience of the Battle of Passiondale. And by doing so, he demonstrated considerable bravery once again. So through this episode, as we take you to the battle, you'll hear details of that testimony brought to life by the wonderful Martin Esposito. The anonymous submission starts. It happened to be my misfortune to be in the salient on the day we took Pash and Dale and the memory of that days and those which preceded and followed it will always be with me. There were days such as I wished no man to see again, lived in conditions of hardship and terror,

such as no man should ever again be asked to face. I was with the 18-pounder guns in position some 2,000 yards behind the front line. Probably we faced day after day, a greater concentration of shell fire than the infantry did, and we were in the line not for three days, but for weeks on end without relief. The time we spent in front of Passiondale was sheer unmitigated hell. In the summer of 1917, Field Marshal Haig, who was the commander of the British Expeditionary Force in France and Belgium, he wanted to strike a mighty blow against the tiring Germans.

He wanted to wear down their manpower even further. That just meant kill and wound more Germans than they could kill and wound of us. He also wanted to sure up the tenuous hold of the Allies on the city of Ipra by securing the Gweveldt to Paschendale Ridge. He was optimistic, that the Allies would be able to push even further. They'd be able to push along the Belgian coast, perhaps take hold of some of those ports and stop German U-Boats operating out of them, relieve the pressure on British imports on British shipping. Now, to be fair to Haig, though, determined attempts had been made to learn the bitter lessons from the battle the Somme the previous year. He was more cautious in his objectives. He sought a sort of

step by step. It's got a bite and hold strategy. There'd be a creeping barrage. This is a massive artillery fire to subdue the enemy, which moves forward. The targets slowly extend away from the guns. And behind that moving curtain of flame and explosives, the infantry advance. They then take an objective. Everyone stops. You dig in. And then the inevitable German counterattack is repelled by the infantry with their weapons, but also by the artillery, which knows exactly where to fire to break up this German advance. It's all carefully pre-programmed. Then the process starts again. The infantry training manual was rewritten after the Battle of Somme to absorb the lessons. Tanks had been trialled at the Somme, and Hague wanted to deploy large numbers of those in the summer

of 1970. The problem was that the Germans had been learning too. So Hague's forces would be facing, the strongest defensive line in history. Gone were the long lines of trenches. Instead, the battlefield looked very different. There'd be concrete pillboxes, deep bunkers, machine gun nests, a web of barbed wire that channeled attackers into killing zones, vast numbers of heavy guns, which were pre-sighted so they're sort of pre-programmed, if you like, they would unleash unspeakable volumes of high explosives or gas, poison gas, directly into the line of the British attack into these killing zones where they knew the British would be. As I've already said, by July 1917, the battlefield was a viscous bog where men and horses and

guns and tanks just sink into the quagmire. Any trees, well, that's laughable. The trees have been stripped bare by shell fire. You might get a few sort of blackened stumps that survive, the odd skeleton on the horizon. But any cover was gone. Along the line, they were forced to use miles and miles of duck boards. These just wooden planks, wooden walkways. They'd been laid down, and they were essential. They're the only way of moving around the battlefield. People could walk along them, machinery, horses. Stepping off that duckboard was extremely dangerous. You could go down to your waist or even worse. And as a result, movement was really complicated and arduous and slow, and particularly, you know, evacuating the wounded could take hours, if not days.

The offensive opens on the 31st of July. There's a colossal bombardment. The British imperial troops and some French troops advance forward on a broad front. They took parts of the Pilkhelm Ridge and Steenbeck, but as dangerous for the Germans was the rain. The rain started falling almost at once, and then the German counterattacks began to bite as well. Among those advancing was Private James Morby of the Wiltshire Regiment. He was 19 years old, he was actually from Buckinghamshire,

and he was now marching out into the hellscape that was no man's land. Jen, you've been looking to the story of Private James Morby through the Find My Past Records. What did he be a little about it? Tell me about who he was and I guess will his life before the war? He was 19 when he joined up and fought in France.

He's from Buckinghamshire. He's the youngest son of William and Matilda Morby. And when I was researching James and his family, actually what I found is you could really trace the Morby family through census records on Fund My Past decade after decade. So they're living on Spencer Street and Stantonberry.

You see the parents there, William and Matilda, all the children listed together. And then in a very kind of slow and heartbreaking way, as the war unfolds, their names start to reappear in military records and memorials. You just kind of watch this entire family unravel in the documents. But at the same time, that's the power of these records. They don't just give us facts. They show us how the war reached into these ordinary homes. He was so young.

He was a teenager when he went to war. What do we know about him, well, on the first day of Paschendale? Yeah, so he's injured on the first day of Paschendale. And it's actually pretty tragic. So his attack really starts in kind of a moment of promise. He is pushing forward. He gains ground along Pilkham Ridge with his unit. Of course, the rain start, as we know. And so the shell holes are filling with water. All of this kind of happening in a short period of time that that hope turns quickly into struggle. But James himself was in a somewhat unique situation, I think mentally and emotionally. His family had already. suffered in this same field of battle. One of his brothers was killed earlier in the war at Ypres. His other brother was wounded at the first battle of Ypres and ended up with his leg amputated. So here's James now with the Wiltshers, pushing forward in a no man's land, probably knowing full well that his brother was lost here, that his other brother was

injured. So you kind of wonder how much that history impacted his mental and emotional status on that day. And there's all sorts of ways you can think of that, right? He might have been out to avenge his brother's death. He might have just been quite sad or not quite focused. There's all of those kind of elements built into his wartime story, but you wouldn't understand that just from military records alone, right? You have to use the full collection of historical records available to us on Find My Past to really understand that concept and that context. I actually got a quote here from our anonymous gunner from his newspaper's submission. He describes what James experienced. We made our wagon lines in what had presumably once been a field, but was now Quagmire.

The horses stood up to their hocks in mud. The guns were buried to the hubs in it, and we simply spread our ground sheets on the mud and slept there. At least, we would have slept, but shells began to pour into the camp. We could do nothing but crouch close to the ground and hope the next one wouldn't reach us. he's wounded but survives he actually passes away a couple of days later so he ultimately is killed through his injuries so the family lost not one but two of their boys

in that battlefield in Flanders yeah and the tragedy of that being a couple of years apart knowing that you're sending your sons to the same battlefield kind of repeatedly has to be as a parent I'm not sure that I can really comprehend what that would have felt like or that experience would have been like Was he taken back dressing station? So was he properly buried or is he missing? He's actually missing. He's one of the more than 54,000 men that are commemorated on the men and gate.

So most of those men have no known grave. And of course, each evening today, the last post still stands beneath its arches. So this daily act of remembrance for men like James, who never came home. It's one of the most moving sort of historical experiences, if you like, that you can have. So I highly recommend going to Iepra and standing at the mening gate. They do it every night. It was a very special place indeed. Huge credit to the local people who keep up that tradition. Do we know what the impact on the family was? We know that just like so many other families,

they just kind of had to keep marching forward, right? So the brother who has his leg amputated, of course, comes home, continues to live out his life. We never found any evidence of his marriage or any children. The parents continue their life, just kind of work and live through the rest of their life, and the family continues on. But that process of mourning and grieving, I'm sure, is something that was with them for the rest of their life. And, of course, that constant reminder in the brother because he's had his leg amputated and his life has completely changed as a survivor of the war.

There's no escaping this battle or this field in France for this family. Tell me about private Stanley Toya. That's been one you've been looking at. Yeah, Stanley is quite interesting. He is 27. His impact actually is felt on the third of August. 1917, that's actually when he dies. It's another one who passes away a couple of days after his injuries. He's from Luton in Bedfordshire, and like so many in his town, he works in the Straw Hat Trade before the war. His father, Alfred, was a hat blocker, his mother Martha, a straw hat sower. Stanley joins the Lancashire Regiment in 1916, so he leaves behind, of course, his work, his family, but also his cycling club in Luton, which is one of those interesting little details

that the newspapers on Find My Pass tell us that we wouldn't otherwise know about. So on the first day of battle, a shell explodes in the trench beside him. He was mortally wounded. He dies on the 3rd of August. His injuries linger for just over three days. And his mother later receives a small pension as his dependent, which is one of the ways in which military records help us understand the full story because, of course, the military record process doesn't stop at his death. There's actually pension records that go on for several more months. So we can understand a little bit more of the impact of his death on the family. He's mortally wounded. Was he evacuated or was he lying out in no man's land? He was lying out in no man's land. It was, as far as we can tell, quite kind of a lingering three days, probably in a shellhole or in a trench, and of just days of lingering pain. And sadly, his story is quite ordinary, right? But that's precisely why it matters. He's a young man from a family trade swept up by the war, carried off to Belgium, killed in the mud, like so many others. Through August, the offensive was just, well, it was just deeply painful. The British troops repeated their attempts to push forward in appalling mud, but had very limited gains. I think the ground, actually, even more than the Germans, was their worst enemy.

Private James Morby and Stanley Toyer, of course, certainly did not live to see the hell of those endless, wet August days. But our anonymous gunner did. He wrote this. We drew again into action in the mud, facing the Germans with infantry. infinite toil over mud to keep our guns supplied with shells. Day and night there were shells to carry and shells to fire. Our bodies moved automatically. We became dead to our fear and our suffering. Every feeling was submerged in the dull misery of those awful days.

Sometimes we could get no water for days at a time and drank the green gas inoculated slime from the shellholds. My body was covered with boils and I could scarcely drag one leg before the other but day and night there were shells to carry and shells to fire. The toil was incessant. The significant action that month

took place around the 16th of August with the Battle of Langermark. Waves of British attackers crashed against concrete pillbox They experienced heavy machine gun fire. There were well-timed, skillful counter-attacks. British gains were small, they were uneven. North the village, the French actually did better.

They battered these blockhouses. They suppressed the fire, and they pushed up to the canal junction at Drey Grafton. But the attack as a whole failed to achieve a decisive breakthrough. It was another costly offensive, a very little return. It's estimated by the end of August, the Allies had already suffered well over 100,000 casualties. The Germans around the same amount. There were already conservatively hundreds of thousands of men killed, wounded and missing on both sides, and there's very little movement in the front line to show for it.

By late August, the Battle of Passchendale had slowed into almost stalemates. There's a slow grind going on. The ground was so waterlogged that each shell would blow a crater, and that would just instantly fill with water. Our anonymous gunner writes, At least we would have slept, in spite of mud and cold, For we were dog-tired and terribly dispirited in this land of grey mud and skeleton trees. We could have slept.

But no sooner had dawn fallen, then shells began to pour into the camp. In a stationary line, in complete darkness except for the flashes of the bursting shells, we could do nothing but crouch close to the ground, clutch at the gunlimbers, hoping against hope that the next projection, Jetile would not breach us. All night, arms and cartridges piled between us. The few who slept, slept in fits and starts and without rest. Into this nightmare stepped Captain Edwin Vaughan. He was of the Royal Warwickshire Regiment. He was not yet 20. He'd been to a Jesuit school in London. He'd joined the artist's rifles, which sounds probably more romantic and glamorous than it was, before taking a commission

in the Warwickshire's. His diary survives, and it's one of the most haunting accounts of Passiondale. Jen Baldwin, you've come across this extraordinary diary during your research. I mean, that's the dream, isn't it? Yeah, and this diary in particular is actually readily available for everybody. It was published by the soldiers family in the 1980s. It's actually considered to be one of the reads of World War I because it's such a compelling account of the battle and this particular soldiers' experience. Actually, I should probably say it's quite difficult to read. it's not very long. It's just incredibly emotional. And the way that he writes, it's very true. Obviously, it's not written for publication. It's a diary. So it's his thoughts and his emotions. And it really makes the

battlefield very real. So we should probably introduce our author of this diary. Captain Edwin Vaughn at this point, the slate August when he writes his diary, the ground is so waterlogged that each shell kind of creates this crater that fills with water. In some cases instantly, but in other cases it takes a little bit longer. So, Dan, I'm just going to read you one of his entries. This was written on the night of the 27th of August. And in this, he says, from other shell holes from the darkness on all sides came the groans and wails of wounded men, faint, long, sobbing moans of agony and despairing shrieks. Powerless to move, they were slowly drowning. Horrible visions came to me with those cries of men lying maimed out there trusting that their pals would find them, and now dying terribly,

alone amongst the dead in the inky darkness, and we could do nothing to help them. So as they retreat, he says, quote, the water was right over the tops of the shell holes. They had drowned. So he realizes why the cries of these men have reduced. He's realized, of course, that these people have drowned, right, in these holes. So he goes back into where the base camp is supposed to be, where he's supposed to report back in, and he gets into this situation where he's realized. that the base camp has actually been bombed as well. So he has to actually climb over this mound

of bodies that have been hit, that the headquarters had been hit by shell after shell, and its entrance was this long mound of bodies. So he has to climb over this pile of people to get inside. And as he does this, a hand reaches out from the pile and actually grabs his leg. So there's a living man kind of buried among these dead. When dawn breaks, he goes back to his tent, and he counts his company. Out of 90 men, only 15 have remained. And he also describes gas, doesn't he? Yeah. So the Germans had been using gas in the war already. They'd been using chlorine and foschene. But at Pasterdale, they employed mustard gas on a large scale, really, for the first time. They have shells that are marked with a yellow cross. So if you see that, you know it's coming,

or you can see the stockpiles. The shells unleash this chemical, but it is far more destructive than what they've used before. It doesn't just suffocate men, and it certainly isn't instantaneous, at least not in every case. It clings to your skin and clothing. It contaminates the ground for days. It could incapacitate men long after the shells had fallen. So it turns parts of the battlefield into these no-go areas, adding this secondary layer of terror to these already horrific conditions. So men have gas that clings to their uniforms. They have blistered skin, they have burn lungs. They would cough up blood. stumble blindly or even just collapse into the mud and then drown as a result of the weather conditions. There were lots of ways to die on the Western Front. But do you think there was something

about gas that affected the morale of men as well? Were they particularly nervous about it? I couldn't imagine that you wouldn't be. Mustard gas especially didn't kill outright. It just kind of burned any part of the body at touch. So if it gets in your skin and you have a gas mask going, you rip the gas mask off to try and get that out. Your eyes are swelling shut. Your throats and your lungs are being blistered. Your skin comes up in these raw sores. So even a tiny dose could blind or disable a man for weeks. The psychological toll must have been absolutely immense. And many men describe the pain of the gas as worse than being shot. So there's this entire environment where men are out and exposed, right? So the whole area has been reduced to a moonscape.

There's no trees. There's no cover. There's just craters and kind of this shattered drainage. So in this really open space, this gas is just drifting freely and then pooling into the shell holes and the low ground. So if you're injured and you're seeking cover in these craters, picture yourself on the battlefield. You run in or you dive into a crater. It feels a little bit theatrical almost. And you finally get to the point where you can open your eyes and look around and take sense of what's going on around you. And you see this gas sitting at the bottom of the crater. So now you're stuck. You have no escape. You can't go back into no man's land, but you also know that this gas is slowly creeping towards you. And probably the pain is already starting. Extraordinary testimony from one who would

not survive the battle. Edwin Vaughn has written this diary that was published. Have you been able to find out so much about him, Jen? So there's a lot of information about Edwin Vaughn because he has this published diary. And his diary puts us there, right, in the darkness and the mud surrounded by these cries of these men drowning in shell holes. His words, the scale of the disaster so much more personal and vivid, really unforgettable, I don't think I'll ever forget Vaughn's diary. Most families don't have that, right? So for Vaughn and his colleagues on the field, we have other opportunities for research. We have records on Find My Past that set a soldier into context, right? His parents, where he grew up, what his schooling was like. And that's

often how we bring someone's story back to life. Find My Past has such depth in British and Irish records that you can really just start with a name and then delve deeper to gain this richer understanding of the entire community, their childhood, their military experience, the aftermath of that experience can look through the Find My Past newspaper archives to delve into his community and his military unit. And then, of course, we add on to that all of the traditional resources for academic research, and we understand on a much broader scale what family history can actually add to the depths of the World War I story. By September, the battle was like a metronome. Strike, stop, dig in, replenish, go again. A general, Sir Hubert Pluma, took charge and ordered smaller, more carefully planned surgical attacks instead of the big push approach. First came the offensive for the Menin Road Ridge, then Polygonward, and then sites were set on Brudzander in early October. Troops would just advance a short distance behind heavy, well-timed artillery fire,

Then they would stop, they would dig in, and then they would meet that German counterattack. Small groups were taught to sort of work around German bunkers rather than trying to charge straight at them and suppress them. At Polygon Wood, which I think is one of the best battlefields in the Eap sector, it's such an interesting place to explore and see the old German concrete pillboxes. Australian units grabbed their goals and held them bitterly, and step by step, they got closer and close to the main ridge. And this approach gave the Allies some momentum. counter-attacks that formed up were massacred by the huge Allied artillery fire that was brought down on the areas where they knew those Germans would be gathering to counter-attack.

The cost was still huge, but for the first time in weeks, the Allies felt like they had a plan that was working. And that momentum on the battlefield relies on lots of moving parts. There's a kaleidoscope of different factions and crews and units. That's modern warfare, artillery and machine gunners, infantrymen, pilots, tank crews. The engineers who have to lay the track for the light railways. They have to build bridges, signalers and runners laying down and repairing field telephone lines so that all these different units can talk to each other. People who are sending and receiving the pigeons that are carrying the messages between posts as well. There are men running the mule trains and the horse trains.

There's vets who take care of those animals. There's teams figuring out how on earth to get water and rations to thousands of men isolated, perhaps even stranded on the front line. Then there are the medics and stretcher-bearers, the chaplains, there's the burial teams. My great-grandpa was one of those doctors. My grandma just said he was a very hard man after the war. He didn't really like talking about him. The carnage must have been overwhelming for him and for all of them. He and fellow doctors had to play God.

They had to triage. They decided within an instant who there would help when so many voices were screaming out. They had to dismiss those who were beyond help. There were moments when they were overwhelmed by the sheer volume of casual. and the blood and the guts and the death that he and all of them had to deal with every day. It's just too much to comprehend, in fact. William Eli Bacon had been an insurance clerk from London before the war. At Passiondale, he drove horse-drawn ambulances with a field ambulance unit of the Royal Army Medical Corps.

Jen Baldwin, tell me about William Eli Bacon's letter that you wrote home. Yeah, so he writes this letter home, and ultimately it ends up in the hands of the local newspaper, which is where we access it on the Find My Past newspaper archive. It's been digitized and made available now. Like so many letters, it's sent to a family, a loved one, and it ends up with these local papers, which is something they actively recruited and were trying to obtain during the war.

So his letter gives us kind of a firsthand account of what it was like to drive one of these ambulances. And I just want to read you a snippet of the letter itself. He says, here is a horse ambulance proceeding slowly, to hospital wards. It is full of wounded prisoners, just such a lot as I myself brought down the line a while ago. That poor devil, half sitting, half lying inside the ambulance, surely life must be a bitter thing for him. His mouth has been blown away. By his side is one with both legs smashed and a wound in the head, and a third with both hands swabbed in bandages. Another lies on a stretcher behind my seat.

His clothes and face are plastered with mud, and he moans and mutters in his delirium. So in this letter. He really brings us to his ambulance. That's just one trip. You'd have been doing that day in, day out. It's hard to see how he could cope with that. Yeah, he tries to put a bit of a positive spend on the circumstances. And possibly this is him writing to his family and trying to say, it's not all totally bad and I'm okay. But he talks about how his last load of wounded and the other work of his colleagues, the last of our own casualties on this section have been cleared to hospital, which, quote, speaks in volumes for the efficiency of our medical arrangements here. So they really try to find themselves in kind of the routine of it and the job of being an ambulance driver versus the emotional toll.

I find it extraordinary that it was a horse-drawn car, but I guess that is the fascinating thing about the First World War, its particular timing. It must have been really brutal, right? So you're thinking about the chaos at battle and the idea of triage, which is a relatively new concept to the military field. Medics had to make these decisions really in seconds. So who can survive if I carry them back? But who is beyond saving? I can't imagine actually just walking past someone or running past a soldier who's injured and crying out and knowing I can't help you. So I'm literally just going to keep going. So they're looking for signs of life, wounds. They know they could stabilize and tried to move those men first. But it's all part of the trauma that these stretcher

Barry's carried, these just impossible choices that they had to make every day. You talked about looking for the positives in a way. The medical science was making giant strides forward in this war. I mean, it was utterly tragic. But the sheer volume of injury, the sheer volume of practice that people were getting, and the funding coming in from the government, from the armed forces, to get people back on the battlefield, meant that they were learning, they were improving so much the whole time.

Yeah, absolutely. The history of medicine development actually during this period is absolutely fascinating. This is really the first military engagement where a field ambulance is being set up or a casualty clearing station. And these are often just a couple of tents or maybe a few huts, but they are surprisingly effective. And then they have this whole system of hospitals behind that. So the casualty clearing station could stop the bleeding, set broken bones, maybe perform emergency surgery, give basic pain relief. If a man could be stabilized there, he had a good chance and making it to a base hospital further back,

and then from there, sometimes even home to Britain for recovery. There's actually an incredible record set available on Find My Past that we digitized in partnership with the National Archives, and it's the records of these soldiers' medical records, and many of them are created at these hospitals. So you have records from the casualty clearing stations, from the stationary hospitals, the general hospitals, and then, again, back home in England.

And you see the variety of injuries, Everything from, you know, on a single page, you might see a sprained ankle, shell shock, a gas wound to the face, gunshot wounds, obviously, broken arms. And that's all just documented there, ready for us to understand and see. And it's a really eye-opening way to understand the medical experience of World War I. A superb resource. It's fascinating. Interestingly, in that description, he's helping Germans, that he's gathering up the wounded prisoners from the battlefield. Yeah, he specifically refers.

to Germans that he puts in his ambulance. And I think this is universal. Medics and stretcher bears were kind of bound to help anyone they found, whether it was friend or enemy. So you see that in the letters and diaries that are written home. All these German soldiers lying in the mud

right alongside the British forces, all of them suffering in the same way. From the medics, there's really no difference. They're just men that have a need, and they can help them. Tell me one more thing about Eli Bacon before we move on. Tell me something striking about him.

I think what really struck me when I looked into Bacon's life is his experience before the war and kind of alluded to this earlier in the podcast that he's just this ordinary person, right? He's an insurance clerk of all things. He's newly married. He's got a brand new wife at home. So the census and the marriage registers show this ordinary life just before everything is upended. But again, that's what these records do on Find My Pass. They remind us that each soldier is this whole person with a family and a future. And this all happens, of course, long before he becomes part of this historic battlefield.

By October, the British were nearing their final objective, the ruined village of Passionette. The activity now was really all in the Canadian Corps. It was under Lieutenant General Stratharthur Curry. He studied the ground closely and he told his superiors the truth. He could take the ridge, but only in very small bits, one bite at a time and at a very heavy price. He asked for more guns, he asked for more duckboards, more carrying parties. Every inch of that approach had to be laid with planks so that they could move more shells and ammunition and rations up to the front. The plan would be, again, a staircase, if you like, of assault,

each with very tight objectives, each followed by consolidation until the village itself was within reach. Initially, there were very small unit-level attacks to clear certain German strongholds before a slightly wider assault could take place. Second Lieutenant Douglas St. George Pettigrew was one of the men chosen trying to take those attacks. He came from Pannath, the only surviving son of his family, from a long line of soldiers. He'd already been badly wounded at Tiefval on the Somme in 1916. Jen, tell me about Pettigrew.

What does he tell us about the kind of men that were fighting here? So this man is Douglas St. George Pettigrew. His story really comes alive in October when the British are kind of nearing their final objective, right? That ruined village of Pashneil itself. Canadians are going to take the lead on this part of the campaign, but in the days before, there's these smaller attacks that they used to try and clear these German strong points. And second lieutenant, Pettigrew, is one of those people that's kind of chosen. He comes from Pannarth, and he's from a long line of soldiers.

He's with the Sherwood Foresters. His great-great-grandfather actually fought through the Peninsula War. and he was at Waterloo. And Petty Grew himself is actually born in County Waterford in Ireland, but he's educated in Bath. So all of these little facts, right? We've got Wales, Ireland, Bath. It's all mixing together to tell us

that he really has this family tie through the military. Tell me about the mission that he and his men were given that day. So they're tasked with one of the most dangerous jobs on the battlefield, which is storming these German pillboxes. The positions had to be taken if there was, really any hope of advancing towards the village itself. Artillery couldn't destroy them really. The only way to handle this was to get in close and kind of fight it out. So Pedigrew and his platoon were specially selected to lead that attack on the 22nd of October. Did they get less

for preparation for that? So we know that he was right there at the front of the assault. His role was to lead his unit up against the pillbox through this mud and relentless fire. There's all kinds of small but essential operations that are happening all over the field like this that allow these Canadian Corps to make the final push. So he leads his men quite literally. He's at the front of the attack and they do take the pillbox. But in the process, he's mortally wounded and he actually dies the next morning on the 23rd of October, 1917, at the age of 25. So it's quite tragic to think that after surviving all these earlier battles and having been through all these experiences throughout the war, recovering from his wounds, his life ends here and kind of this

brutal push for just a few hundred yards of ground. When you read about a guy like that, do you think his chances of surviving the war were so slim? I mean, he seems to have done more than his fair share of time on the front line leading these attacks, and yet the war would rumble on for another year. So these young men, the toll must have been extraordinary on them. Yeah, and the cycle was relentless. So you could have a man who fought in all these major engagements, be wounded, It's been months recovering, and as soon as he's fit enough, he's just sent right back. So that process just repeats itself so often, and the physical toll is really obvious. We can see that in the records.

The part we have to infer for ourselves is the mental exhaustion, the emotional exhaustion, which would have been staggering. Many of these men were asked to endure more than any human being reasonably could, and yet they just kept going until their bodies or their luck gave out. You say lead from the front, because you actually know that. That's interesting. So the records tell us that, do they? Yeah, the military records don't give indication of that kind of activity.

But, of course, the newspaper reports do. So when we're reading newspaper accounts, we can see the quotes from his men, that he led from the front alongside his platoon, that he was admired, that he shared their risks. And, of course, that ultimately cost him his life. But there are quotes that tell us that he was actually idolized by his men. And that's all available through the archives on Fun My Past. The front line edged ever close to the village. Passiondale was in their sights.

By the village, I mean, there were roofless outlines, shells of houses, barely anything left standing at all. Behind the front, light railways screech through the darkness with more shells, ammunition and mortar bombs for the offensive. Stretcher parties fought the same battle in reverse. They were trying to get people away from the front line hauling the wounded back over the slick boards, one lurch at a time. On the 6th of November, in the half-light of dawn, the barrage began. The Canadians moved up in a coordinated way. The German counter-bombament luckily fell behind many of the advancing troops. And almost everywhere, that attack went quite well for the Canadians.

They encountered the most opposition from pillboxes at the north end of the village of Passchendale. But in less than three hours, the village had been secured, or rather what was left of it, was now in allied hands. In the aftermath, that capture, Hague called for an end to the offensive. He deemed it a success. But it is very difficult to see it that way. Over three and a half months, British and Imperial Forces advanced barely five miles while suffering horrendous losses. In the aftermath, Hague was heavily criticised for persisting long after the operation

had lost its real strategic value. I think he was very lucky to keep his job at the end of 1917. And certainly Pashendell has come to epitomize the First World War's horror and human cost. Our anonymous gunner wrote of it, In the morning we carried our dead and dressed our wounded and betook ourselves elsewhere. In succeeding days, when exhaustion was returning, I felt the pain of my boils and the awful pricking behind my eyes and the fearful weariness of my soul.

That was Passiondale, and to me nothing can ever justify its like again. It's estimated that both sides lost about a quarter of a million casualties. Some 90,000 bodies were never identified, tens of thousands more, of course, were never recovered. Jen, I guess it was the nature of the landscape in part, but just a huge, number of those that were killed at Passiondale were never identified, but many never even recovered. And I suppose you're searching in your own way in the archives to bring that information to light, to give them back their identities. It is, and it can be quite difficult research to pursue, right? These are men that often are kind of forgotten to history a bit.

When we think about family history and a website like Find My Past, we often think of kind of that traditional pedigree, right? I want to know about my grandfather, my great-grandfather, but trees don't just only grow up vertically. They also grow out. So as we explore the history of World War I and our direct ancestors, we can think about all of those men who never came home. So it might be your great-grandfather's cousin or your great-grandmother's brother, somebody who never had a descendant to do their research, to carry their family line forward, and to kind of remember them and honor them. to record the legacies that they really deserve by discovering and sharing these remarkable stories.

And you mentioned that those trees got, I guess the exciting thing is if somebody finds something out, it can actually have a huge impact on another family's story, perhaps these newspaper articles or whatever, it might mention other names. How can people find that forgotten hero in their family tree? So it's a relatively straightforward process. You can start with yourself and your own family and then start to expand. It's a real opportunity because find my past military records are completely free to explore from November 7th through the 13th. So you have this chance to really delve into these records, into the history, to really explore and understand the environment, the family setting, not just the paper records, but also kind of explore some of these emotional angles that we've talked about and really think about and expose these men who have never come home.

Thank you so much, Jen Baldwin. It really is the most astonishing archive of records. So please go and check out your family's forgotten heroes on Find My Past. And to mark Remembrance Day, millions of military records are completely free to access and explore until the 13th November. Visit findmypass.com.com.uk slash remembrance to start delving into your family's war stories. Thank you very much for listening. See you next time. I don't know.