accepted practice that at least one of the rifles, which were loaded usually by the APM and the officer in charge, was loaded with a blank cartridge. There are some orders concerning the execution of Private James Carr, of the 2nd Welch Regiment, who was executed for desertion on 7 February 1916, which state that ‘the officer should personally load the rifles, 9 with ball and one unloaded or loaded with blank’.
In addition, some officers then mixed up the rifles. All this was done to help alleviate any feelings of guilt on the part of those in the firing squad, although it is now accepted that an experienced soldier would not have been fooled, as evidenced by Rifleman Henry Williamson (Arthur, 2002): ‘We knew by the recoil if it was loaded with ball or not.’
Nevertheless, this practice did act as a palliative by allowing some of those compelled to be part of the firing squad to convince both themselves and others that whatever the strength of the recoil, they had not fired the fatal shot. An unintended consequence of this practice was that, as a result of the rifles being mixed up, those in the firing squad found themselves having to use a rifle that they were unused to, which did not lend itself to accurate shooting.
Babington (2002) summed this practice up well when he wrote: ‘Right up to the moment of taking aim each member of the firing party could continue to hope that he alone might be absolved from playing a part in the killing of a comrade.’
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One soldier, Corporal Alan Bray, recalled that while he was in the trenches he was told that he would be one of six men detailed to form a firing party to shoot four men from another battalion who had been accused of deserting. He said that this left him very worried because he did not think it right that Englishmen should be shooting other Englishmen, as he thought he was in France to fight the Germans. A further cause for concern was that he thought he understood why these particular men had deserted, given that they had been in the trenches without a break for several months under conditions that would affect any man, adding that consequently, he had no appetite for shooting them.
In letter No.2 that was sent to Ernest Thurtle, the author wrote about the execution, on 26 April 1916, of Private Henry Carter from the 11th Middlesex Regiment, who had been found guilty of desertion. He had deserted after six days and nights of continuous bombardment and was known by his comrades to be ‘a bundle of nerves’ . The condemned man had joined the army when just 17 years of age and was executed eighteen months later while still underage.
Letter No.5 is in a similar vein, as the writer makes plain that he considered Private William Scholes of the 2nd South Wales Borderers, who was executed on 10 August 1918 for desertion, to have been no coward and ‘one of his best pals’.
Even more disturbing is the case of Private James Smith of the 1st Battalion of the Lancashire Fusiliers, who was found guilty of wilful disobedience and sentenced to death. According to his great-nephew Charles Sandbach (Warren, 2009), most of the firing squad who sympathised with Smith first of all refused to shoot the condemned man and, when forced to do so, deliberately missed the marker over his heart, leaving him wounded but alive. Incredibly, his friend, Private Richard Blundell, was then ordered to shoot him because the officer in charge, Lieutenant Collins, could not do it himself. This story was repeated in the House of Commons during an adjournment debate in 2009, the full text of which is included as Appendix 3, where additional detail about the case of Private James Smith can be found:
Early on the morning of 5 September, a small patrol of soldiers from Jimmy’s own unit entered a barn at Kemmel Château in Belgium to clean their weapons prior to re-engagement with the enemy. They were told that, first, they had a special duty to perform, and they were taken outside