The dust has settled and I'm now basking in the glow of knowing I was a part of something incredible last week. I must have read every online news article and seen every photo shared. I can't believe that it was back in early April that I became involved because the time has gone so quickly.

My involvement began when I was talked into it by a colleague from Volcano Theatre Company who shall remain nameless. Nameless, becuase she told me EVERYTHING. This was before I signed the gagging order, sorry, contract or even knew of its existence. This actually worked to my advantage because when I told the head of HR at my employer, Coastal Housing Group, she was so enthused that she agreed to give any participants day release. Once I had read and signed the contract it was damage limitation to make sure she didn't tell anyone herself! I think we got away with it...

In the end, I had four colleagues signed up. This disappointed me a little, but when you're sworn to secrecy it's difficult to convince men working in property and building to spend their evenings and weekends at the base of a progressive theatre company, based solely on my promises that it would all be worth it and no, there'd be no acting or dancing or any of that. I can honestly claim that believed it would be as good as it was right from the start and indeed, the Monday following the event several other colleagues said they would have joined in had they known what it was. There had been a poster in the office kitchen for over a month! Exasperating. But I digress.

I have lost count of the actual number of sessions I attended, but it was most of them. All participants were informed from the outset that we would be drilled so as to break the uniforms in, so in my head we were going to march around a bit. I incurred the ire of my colleagues when without warning we were subjected to arduous physical exercise involving push-ups, burpees and actual running, all while wearing woolen trousers and tunics - the poster had required that we be physically fit, but this all came as a shock. Thanks, Anna and Gethin. My prediction of being marched around a bit was to come true, but from the very first session I learned that this was largely to be conducted in public. I appreciate that fairly large group of young men walking silently in single file is startling for onlookers when they are in uniform and their reasons for doing so are clear. When we did this on Swansea High Street at 9 o'clock in the evening reactions from witnesses ranged from confusion and incredulity to outbursts of hysterical laughter, not to mention the odd facetious comment. It seems Swansea High Street is a vast repository for failed comedians.

As soon as we were issued our uniforms, we learned the identity of the soldier we were to represent and encouraged to research their life and involvement in the conflict. I was given an officer, Captain Alexander Arbuthnott Hughes, and so finding out details of his life turned out to be fairly straightforward. I've included a brief biography at the bottom of this piece, which I hope you read. This is not to demonstrate the amount of research I completed in an effort to impress you - it's my tribute to just one of the 19,240 men who died on the first day of the Battle of the Somme. Sharing his story so that you think of him too is the best I can offer him. Being given a name was when the significance of the project hit me. This wasn't just a fun evening activity with a great group of guys any more. We would be presenting people with a living face of an ordinary someone who had tragically lost their life a century previously. The cards we would offer them would only be able to tell a tiny part of the story of a person who was once as alive and real as any of us.

Despite the initial sense of revulsion at being told to arrive for costume at 06:45 on the day, I managed to be on time. After all of the sessions, everyone had got to know each other and the sense of excitement in the changing rooms was palpable, broken only by the poignancy of the two minute silence at 07:30 - exactly the time the first wave of soldiers left their trenches. The project in Swansea had felt special, but seeing video footage of the other groups from all over the UK made us realise we were part of something much bigger. The atmosphere in the room when we cheered the first group out on their way was something I just wish I could experience more often. There were some nerves which led me to spark up my first [herbal] cigarette with somewhat shaky hands soon after arriving outside Swansea railway station, but as commuters filed past us the effect this would have became apparent. Gone were the jeers, replaced by clear understanding and in some cases, visibly emotional responses. From another position on footbridges above a major road junction in Swansea, we were constantly hailed and beeped as part of the overwhelmingly positive response.

I can't do justice to the experience through words on a computer monitor. Even climbing Mount Pleasant Hill in the July heat in riding boots and a woolen overcoat and cap just seemed to add another layer of authenticity. I won't even try - on proof-reading a lot of this already sounds corny and hyperbolic. I'm a self-confessed pacifist, who had no prior interest in war or military history. To anyone of a similar mindset I would offer this. This was a conflict on such a scale that it affected literally everyone at that time and left an indelible mark on our collective history. The story of the First World War is more than military history, it is social history. Most of the dead were volunteers or even conscripts, who would never have imagined themselves in such a situation. That's the tragedy and relevance of the both world wars. It's why it was particularly galling when we were subjected to homophobic abuse in Townhill and called Dad's Army and even fascists at one point - ironically always by young men.  

The feeling in the room upon our return is one I won't forget. From swapping stories and sharing a beer to an impromptu rendition of 'Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau' by 40 men in full WW1 uniform, it was a wonderful end to the whole experience. Such was the bond between participants that most are now connected through social media - links only made after the event. There's even rumblings of a reunion trip to the Thiepval Memorial on the anniversary of the end of the battle. I can only hope that the buzz lasts long enough for us to see it through.

When we say 'we shall remember them', we often mean a number, or an indistinct group of soldiers from years ago to whom we have no real connection. We remember the abstract narrative of their sacrifice, learned from school books or museum exhibitions. As part of 'We Are Here', we were each able to put a name to one of the innumerable casualties and the significance of this was easy to read on the faces of so many people who we met that day. I hope that the men named on the cards would approve; they gave everything for us.

I'm still annoyed that we couldn't keep the uniform, mind.


Alexander Arbuthnott Hughes, 1887-1916

Born in February 1887, the son of Col Arbuthnott James Hughes of Presteign, Warwick Park, Tunbridge Wells at Woolwich, London. He was one of three children, two surviving; brother to Phillip Robert Hughes (1891 - 1951). He attended Clifton College, Bristol, before attending Sandhurst RMC, 1905 - 1907. Upon passing out. he left to join South Wales Borderers as a second lieutenant.
The 1911 census records at living at home at Bramhope, Old Charlton, Kent, with his parents and several house staff. His occupation listed as 'Army Lieutenant'.
He spent time in 1912 with the King's African Rifles. I'm not clear when he rejoined the 2nd Battalion SWB, but if it was prior to 1914 it's likely he was at Gallipoli prior to moving to the Somme.  
On the morning of the attack, he was leading his men when an eyewitness recalls seeing him shot in the shoulder and falling. Another account says he was seen later where he fell, already dead. Despite this, his body was not recovered until August 1917 when he was identified by a cigarette tin which was returned to his parents.
He is buried at 'Y' Ravine Cemetary, Beaumont Hamel in grave C9.
He was posthumously awarded the 1914-18 Star, Victory and War medals.

2nd Bn SWB arrived in France with 29th Division, its first big action being the 1st July 1916. It attacked the 'impregnable' position of Beaumont Hamel. 2nd Bn was advancing south of the village when the leading line was mown down by machine gun fire in the first few minutes, losing 11 officers and 235 men, with 4 officers and 149 men wounded. The total was 21 officers and 578 men. Some reached the German line 300yds away, but the attack did not succeed.

Probate notice;
HUGHES Alexander Arbuthnott of Darmsden Bushes Bamford near Ipswich. Captain 1st [sic] battalion South Wales Borderers. Died 1st July 1916 in France. Probate London 15th February to Caroline Mabel Hughes (wife of Arbuthnott James Hughes). Effects £4,126 17s 6d.