In 10 September 1914 the British Prime Minister, H.H. Asquith, reported to Parliament: `We have been recruiting during the last ten days every day substantially the same number of recruits as in past years have been recruited every year'. The total figure he quoted in his speech was `practically 439,900'; eventually a further 2,500,000 would follow this first wave of volunteers in offering to bear arms for King and Country.

Some of these men would find themselves at the front sooner than they expected as replacements in Regular or Territorial units which had suffered heavily in action. The vast majority, however, became members of the so-called `new armies', which were also often known collectively as `Kitchener's Army'; in other words, they were `Kitchener's men'.

These photographs show volunteers going through the process of transformation from civilian to soldier. The first is notable for the social mix of the recruits. In a group of half a dozen can be seen at least three classes, each identified by appropriate head-gear; the cloth-cap of the working-man, the straw-boater of the `gent' or `toff , the trilby of the man of business or professional man. There is also a typical range of ages. The original requirement in August had been for men between nineteen and thirty; on 11 September 1914 the age limit was raised to thirty-five. The youth at the front appears to be very near the lower limit, the (?) business man in the trilby near if not past the higher one, but then the age-limit was frequently breached through the patriotic complicity of enthusiastic applicants and `blind-eyed' recruiting sergeants.
 

The  soldiers' uniforms were supposed to be khaki. Many recruits, however, trained at first in their own clothes or in any uniforms that could be found; one new battalion of the Devonshire Regiment even briefly used the traditional redcoats of the British Army of Wellington and the Crimea.
 
 
 
 

S7532 Rifleman Bernard Britland, C Company, 8th Service Battalion, the Rifle Brigade.

Bernard Britland from Marple, Cheshire, was an enthusiastic Kitchener volunteer, typical of many thousands who answered the nation's call in 1914. Cheerful, optimistic, always making light of difficulties, he joined the colours as S7532 Rifleman Britland, C Company, 8th Service Battalion, the Rifle Brigade. Short but athletic, he was an outstanding cross-country runner, winning numerous medals during his period of training. Proving an excellent shot with the rifle, he was picked out as a likely sniper, tempering his pride in being chosen for that key role vvith assurances that he would be in no greater danger when he reached the front than any other of his comrades. The following extract from a letter written to his family in January 1915 from his camp at Hindhead, Surrey, not only shows a soldier fully contented with his new life but gives a lively and detailed description of its daily routines:

We are doing champion here. We get up at 6.30 then we have to roll our beds up, fold our blankets neatly, then fold our greatcoats up. We are sleeping on a soft mattress on the floor and we have three good blankets so we are quite comfortable and warm. We roll the mattress up and then tie it up with a piece of rope. We have to put our kitbags on the back of the bed and we haven't to leave anything lying about. It looks quite neat I can tell you when we have straightened up.

At 7.15 we have the first parade but before that we have a cup of tea and two biscuits. At 8.0 we have breakfast. On the first parade it is mostly marching about the field and doubling to keep us warm. After breakfast we have to shave and tidy ourselves up for the next parade at 9.0. From then until 12.30 we are kept hard at it. Company drill first, then Swedish drill, then company drill again. We have a short interval between each so it is not so bad. We have dinner about 1.0 and then on parade about 2.0 till 4.30, tea at 4.45 and then a lecture at 5.30 till 6.30. After that we are free for the night. We have to be in by 8.30, lights out at 9.15, so you can see we are fully occupied.

The Sergeant Major was so set up with the progress we made that he served twenty-five rifles out to the smartest of us. I was one of the twenty-five so you can bet I didn't half feel proud of myself. The draft that was here before us were two or three weeks before they got their rifles and we had them in three days so that is something to be proud of isn't it? I was drilling with the rifle yesterday, it made it a lot more interesting.

Today (Sat) I was orderly man for our room so I did not have to do any parades. I was busy helping to serve breakfast, then we had to wash all the pots up, scrub the tables, sweep all the rooms and tidy up generally. This morning we were inoculated for enteric fever. My arm has become stiff and swollen since and just before dinner I felt a bit seedy but after I had had my dinner I felt a lot better but my arm is still sore. Some of the fellows have been ill with it, couldn't hold up but I haven't been like that.

We are being well fed here. This morning we had a tin of sardines each for breakfast and we have half a pound of bread for breakfast and the same amount for tea. For dinner we generally have potatoes, haricot beans, roast meat, stewed meat, cabbage and green peas so there is plenty of variety. Will you please send me one pair of running knickers, two pairs of slips and if you can a small mirror? If you have any old toothbrushes send one or two as they come in very handy for cleaning our rifles.

Rifleman Bernard Britland to his mother, 14 February 1915:
 

I had my Photo taken yesterday (Sat) and I am sending three of them home. I only had 6 taken as I did not know how they would turn out. I was taken at 5.0 and they were ready by 7.45 so you can see it was sharp work.

They only cost 1/- for the half dozen. In the photo my face looks white but that is with the glow of the electric light. At the present my face is very brown. You will notice we haven't got brass buttons, the Rifle Brigade doesn't wear them. Our buttons are brown with a horn or a crown on them. They look smart I can tell you, on the khaki. You must let me know how you like me in my uniform. We have not got belts yet so the tunics look something short.

You will see from Pollie's letter that we have had it a bit rough this week but it has done me no harm. It is surprising what we can stand.

Like the majority of his fellow-volunteers, Britland was eager to go to France to take on the enemy - that, after all, had been their purpose in enlisting. Typically when the time came he wrote, in a letter to his sister Pollie: `Above all things don't worry about me but trust to providence.'