THEY were the men who marched away, a generation inspired by a ringing, rallying call to arms, that took them to face the horrors of a conflict the world thought was to be the war to end all wars.

In proud lines they trudged through the streets of Southampton, passed gathering crowds who cheered them on their way.

Southampton became No.1 Military Embarkation Port and in the years that followed more than seven million men embarked and disembarked from the troopships, nearly four million tonnes of stores were handled and sometimes up to 30 vessels left the quaysides in a single night.

The way Southampton handled the huge ebb and flow of servicemen, including the first expeditionary force to France, has been described as one of the great achievements in its long and distinguished history.

But those who marched through the Bargate, down through the High Street, and those who stood on the pavement waving the Union Jacks, had no idea of the human tragedy that lay in wait for the young soldiers.

In the trenches and no-man’s-land of the Somme, Ypres and Mons, that same generation was to disappear in a hail of artillery fire and withering machine gun bullets.

For years opposing armies stood facing each other, sometimes only yards apart, while overhead the pilots of the Royal Flying Corps, most of whom could count their life expectancy in just a few short days, flew battlefield sorties.

At sea, sailors on board HMS Southampton were in the thick of the North Sea action.

“At Jutland she endured a perfectly astounding hammering from the heavy pieces of capital ships of the enemy sleet at point blank range,” records the history books. How she lived through it her crew could never understand. In this and other engagements, HMS Southampton was at the front of the line.”

As the terrible toll of the war mounted, more recruits were urgently needed and in Southampton even the trams were pressed into patriotic service, with the band of the Hants Royal Garrison Artillery playing from the top decks.

Even the team members and ground staff of the Hampshire County Cricket Club answered the recruiting sergeant’s call and joined up all together, while Southampton football hero, Fred Harrison, once the idol of the Dell, was injured in the fighting.

During the conflict there were many cases of local lads joining up to fight while they were well under the enlistment age of 18. One of the youngest was Private Charles H. Spearing, of Wellington Street, Shirley, who actually enlisted before he was 14 years of age, and within a year he was drafted to Mesopotamia.

There was great excitement when the first batch of German prisoners arrived in Southampton after the battle of Neuve Chapelle.

“They streamed through the town in thousands, and were generally escorted along the Western Shore to the skating rink at Shirley,” said the records from the time.

“Those early men were for the most part of smart and soldierly bearing, in strong contrast to the ragged legions that were to follow. They passed through the town without any hostile demonstration.”

When finally the last bullet was fired and peace returned to the world. The Southampton Pictorial, forerunner of the Daily Echo, was one of the first local newspapers to look back over the fateful time.

“For the past four years and more we in Southampton have witnessed the passing through our main thoroughfares the greatest pageant in history,” said the newspaper.

“That can be positively asserted, for even though there may be wars in the future, they assume an altogether different character from the Great War which has just closed. From the fateful hour when Britain declared war on Germany, up to the signing of the peace treaty, Southampton has been the hub of the whole Empire’s military machine.

“From the four corners of the world they came, men of every race, colour and creed.”