'Finding' Fred - but not his photo!

[Mark88]

Memories of my Maternal Grandfather.

36064 Pte. Fred Detheridge,

Worcestershire Regt.

I was close to my Grandad, but never close enough for him to ever drop his guard and talk freely to me about The Great War.

Despite being somewhat gruff and reserved and able to keep his own company and counsel for long periods of time, it was rare that my Grandad ever showed any signs of irritation or short temper with me. When he did, I had often asked for it, and it was usually when I tried to talk to him about the war.

My closeness to him and my Nan had resulted from my parent's long and acrimonious divorce in 1955, when I was 5. From the moment they parted, I saw no more of my Father's family, including my paternal Grandparents. I saw no more of my Father either. Sad.

Fortunately I had no siblings, and me and my Mother would have been almost destitute had it not been for the kindness of my maternal Grandparents. Although we remained in the council house that my parents had obtained in the early 1950s, my Grandparents and their youngest Son, my Uncle Harry, stepped in at every opportunity to ensure that we would survive. They also ensured that I had sufficient and correct male influence in my young life, and, basically, that I wanted for nothing.

In fact I had more than many of my friends who did have Fathers.

This is a debt of love and gratitude I can never repay, and the close bond that existed between me and them was only broken with their deaths in 1970 and 1998 respectively. Uncle Harry is still with us, now aged 83.

I did make many attempts to engage my Grandad in conversation about The Great War, but, as with the vast majority of those who somehow survived 'The War to End All Wars', he had, it appeared, taken a vow of silence.

Below is a brief chronology of his participation in that war, which ended with the loss of his left foot and then leg below the knee, due to gangrene setting in to the original wound.

Chronology

5^th September 1897: Born – Cakemore, near Blackheath.

August 1916: Attempted to volunteer for the RFA with best pal Billy Higgins, at Curzon Hall, Birmingham. Deemed too small at 5ft. 2ins. and rejected. Decided then

to wait for his call-up papers. (Bill at nearly 6ft. was accepted).

9^th September 1916: Subsequently conscripted and joined Worcestershire Regt. at Norton Barracks, Worcester.

24^th December 1916: To France. 4^th Btn. 88^th Bde. 29^th Div. Tours of trenches: Morval, St. Pierre Vast Wood; then the First & Second Battles of Arras & Fist Scarpe.

3^rd May 1917: Home (Wounds).

7^th August 1917: To 6^th Btn at Plymouth. (Tregantle Fort? – Raglan Barracks?).

8^th September 1917: To France.

11^th September 1917: To 3^rd Btn, in billets at Thiennes. 7^th Bde, 25^th Div. No action with this Btn.

23^rd September 1917: To 1/8^th Btn. 144^th Bde. 48^th (S. Midland) Div. Action at Poelcapelle, then Div. moved south to Vimy Ridge. Moonlight patrolling & trench raids.

November 1917: 48^th Div. to Italy. Have been unable to determine the date or location of his second wound, which led to the amputation of his leg. (See below).

5^th June 1918: Left Italy after amputation of left leg.

Queen Mary's Convalescent Auxiliary Hospital, Roehampton, London for fitting of artificial leg.

8^th November 1918: Discharged from the army.

Regarding the loss of Fred's leg, I was fortunate enough to be able to speak at length to his closest chum Billy Higgins in the mid 1980s. He surprised me by saying that he was more or less 100% certain that Grandad had lost his foot/leg due to an accident during transit from the Western Front to Italy.

I had already been told by Fred that the journey south was more or less idyllic compared to what all travelling had previously experienced in France & Flanders. At some stages, the train would be forced to travel quite slowly, often as they were passing through apple orchards on either side of the tracks.

It was more than the soldiers could resist, and they were hopping off the train, scrumping some apples and then jumping back on board to share their spoils with the other 39 lads in each cattle truck. It was during such an escapade that Fred apparently missed his footing and fell under the train which promptly ran over him and all but severed his left foot.

I still am unable to conclusively prove or disprove this, but other evidence to hand does seem to bear out this hypothesis. On his Army Form B. 2079, Discharge Certificate, it clearly states he is only entitled to one Wound Stripe. (2^nd Scarpe, April 1917). Having subsequently obtained his entry in the Roll Of Individuals entitled to the "War Badge", I find it clearly states that he was discharged from the Army on 8^th November 1918 as a result of 'Sickness'. I was certainly told that after the initial operation, gangrene took hold in his leg and they had to operate a further few times until they were sure they had got it all.

One Wound Stripe and discharged sick certainly seems to indicate he did indeed fall out of the train and had to lose his foot.

He would never discuss the loss of his leg with me, nor had he appeared to have done so with any other family member. I was under no misapprehensions that it was a battle wound, but I suppose I had always assumed it was. And we all know how dangerous assumptions can be when researching factual history.

I can remember that he would counter any questions about wounds by saying that he did not feel hard done by and was happy he had been wounded as he was and not gassed, which he always professed a great hatred and fear of.

Battle wound or not, it crippled him for life and he was periodically plagued with massive carbuncles on the stump of his amputated leg for the rest of his life, due to pressure and chafing of the artificial limb.

It has to be said though, that his return to civilian life did not have a very happy beginning. I am sure it was my Nan who told me that, on arrival back home in Hurst Green – at this stage with no limb fitted and still on crutches - his Mother, Elizabeth, opened the door, took one look at him, and said:

"You can't work like that!" then promptly shut the door in his face!

Whether he was eventually allowed in or forced to seek accommodation elsewhere is not known to me, but he did not let any of this prevent him from eventually leading an active and productive life.

In October 1965 I had a rather bad motor cycle accident, which resulted in my Grandparents offering to have me stay with them for my convalescent period, to allow my Mother to continue working. This was vital, as were what is now commonly referred to as a single parent family. I was to stay with them throughout the winter of 1965/66.

During this time, I got to know Grandad better than I had up to that stage, and often we would spend an afternoon talking, and during the course of these chats I would often slip in a question or two about the Great War, but I now realise I did not really know then which questions to ask. Not once did I get much out of him, other than a few anecdotes recounting some of the good times he still remembered.

The only story he told me involving anything like a memory of the line was of the near-loss through drowning of his chum who apparently lived by the church in Blackheath High Street, one Percy Parkes. This was with the 1/8^th Battalion Worcestershire Regiment in The Salient; Battle of Poelcappelle, October 1917.

He told me they were moving up in darkness on duckboards lashed by wind and rain, where men were being blown bodily into shell-holes. Immediately in front of him, Percy was suddenly picked up by a furious gust and hurled into a nearby shell-hole. The file came to a halt while concerted attempts were made to get a hold of him and drag him out. Apparently, Percy was a diminutive fellow, (he must have been small, Grandad was only 5ft 2ins), and as they were doubtless loaded like pack-mules, he was sinking fast.

After much struggling and no doubt swearing, a pick helve was eventually pushed under his pack straps and he was duly pulled to safety from certain death by drowning.

Many years later I managed to obtain a photo-copy of RQMS Edward Corbett's excellent War Story of the 1/8^th (Territorial) Battalion, and, on page 76 I found this passage:

"Then, in a furious gale of wind, a torrent of rain and unbelievable darkness we moved up. We went without orders and without an objective, for no-one quite knew where the fighting-line was or what was doing there. The weather surpassed itself. Men were blown off the causeway into shell-holes, and a small but very valiant warrior was nearly drowned."

I felt immediately that this 'small but very valiant warrior' had to be Grandad's chum Percy, and it gave me immense satisfaction to have some verification of a brief story recounted by him to me twenty years previous.

One day, in the vain hope that it may stir him to share other memories even then I knew were still vivid in his mind, I decided to ask him if he had any medals. He replied by tapping his artificial leg and saying,

"This is my medal here, chap"!

But he did then say to Nan, "Where are my medals, Hilda?"

"How do you think I know where your medals are?" was the answer from the kitchen.

I was very interested now and badly wanted to see them, so I prevailed upon her to look. Eventually, she gave in, went upstairs and did find them. She gave the two medals – BWM & Victory - to Grandad, who passed them over to me. At first I thought I was just being given them to look at and was much taken with their brightly-coloured ribbons and the profile of a serious-looking King on one and the lady with outstretched wings on the other. Until then I had no idea they were named and I was delighted to see his name impressed around their rims. Also, this was my first sight of the words 'The Great War For Civilisation', and I was, I suppose, firmly hooked.

Reluctantly, I went to give them back to him, but he waved them away, and gave them to me there and then. I couldn't believe my luck and of course I have them to this day. I am certain he thought I would soon lose them or swap them for a bag of marbles or something. Not a chance!

In 1984, many years after Grandad's death in 1970, Nan suddenly produced his War Badge King's Certificate and Discharge Certificate. I had been given the Silver War Badge itself and large Bernard Partridge 'Served With Honour' scroll at the time of his death. I had asked Nan for them, and, after asking Uncle Harry, my Mother, and her other son Dennis if they wanted them, which was fair enough, they were mine to go with his medals.

This caused me to seriously think about exactly what he had done, where he had served – I only knew it was 'The Worcesters' - but had no idea of battalions or locations, etc. – or for how long. Of course I knew about his amputation and that he had been wounded on a previous occasion, as I had been aware of a blue swallow-shaped scar right on the top of his bald cranium. Quite a large one it was too and I would definitely think he owed his life to Mr. Brodie.

Being used to research through an interest in RAF Bomber Command, I set about applying any experience I had gained to the search for my Grandad's contribution to the sad history of The Great War.

Firstly, I found that there was indeed a published Regimental History of The Worcestershire Regiment in The Great War, and also that it was held to be one of the most detailed and sought after written.

Even back in 1984, copies were commanding premium prices and no one had got around to re-printing them at that stage. There were only originals available at that time and I foresaw a problem in sourcing this prize. A casual word to a medal collector friend resulted in the loan of his copy, and I was delighted at the size, scope and content of this masterpiece.

Also, I now knew what it looked like, which would be an advantage when scouring bookshops and book fairs. I did not know at that stage that there were copies available for reference at Bromsgrove, Brierley Hill and Stourbridge Public Libraries. But, much as I wanted a copy, it would prove of little use until I knew his battalions, for I now knew he was not mentioned anywhere in the Regimental History by name.

At this time, the mid 1980s, I don't think Great War soldier's records were on public askance, although War Diaries, trench maps, Operation Orders and other documents were available in the Public Record Office at Kew. I was to go there much later, when I knew what I was looking for.

Nevertheless, I decided to approach Army Records on the basis of 'nothing ventured, nothing gained', but, where the devil do you start; who do you direct your enquiry to? Again, luck was with me, as I had a friend who worked in the Medal Office, which was then in Worcester Road, Droitwich, and he pointed me in the right direction, but could not give me a contact name.

I fired off a very polite letter which did employ a degree of subterfuge. I wrote it as though my Nan was the author – she had no problem whatsoever with me doing this and even signed it – and waited with bated breath to see if I would be lucky enough to receive a reply.

Three weeks later, after a further prompt, I got a card acknowledging my enquiry, and giving me another internal department at Hayes, Middlesex, where I should direct any further correspondence. After an initial letter that partly answered my questions, I took my courage in both hands, tried again and this time struck gold!

Back came a very brief letter that nevertheless told me exactly the battalions, (4^th, 3^rd & 1/8^th); time served with them and dates of wounds and periods in the UK recuperating. I wrote, thanking the lady who had helped us in the warmest manner possible.

I have since found it strange that 36064 Pte. Fred Detheridge's Service Records do not appear to be available when searched for via Ancestry. All I can find is his MIC, and entry on the Roll Of Individuals entitled to the "War Badge". There must be more than these two sources hidden away somewhere, otherwise I would not have been able to receive the comprehensive answer obtained nearly thirty years ago.

Or is it just me not using Ancestry properly!?

Now, I could go after the Regimental History in earnest. I discovered the dates and times of all book fairs within a 30-mile radius taking place over the next few months and prepared for a long and probably fruitless search. None of the military book dealers I was then in contact with by catalogue could help me.

On the following Saturday, 10^th March 1984 to be precise, I was in Halesowen, and wandered into Clent Books, owned and run by a chap I used to live near, one Ivor Simpson. I must have been on an off day, because I did not think to ask him if he had a copy, thinking that would be just too easy, and was idly browsing his bookshelves.

He asked if there was anything in particular I was looking for, and I told him there was but I didn't expect to find it here. Looking back, I don't quite know why I said that, because he had always specialised in military books and had as much chance of having a copy as anyone else! I told him what it was and he disappeared into a small alcove at the side of his desk. When he reappeared, he casually held up a huge green tome which I now could instantly recognise.

"One of these, you mean?"

You could, literally, have knocked me over with a feather, and I lost no time in wresting it from his grasp and speedily paying him the 30 quid he was asking for it!! Thank you, Ivor!

The rest, as they say, is, literally, history. Armed with this I was able to trace in detail all Fred's movements and even translate them on to copies of contemporary maps and walk the ground, where possible, myself. Also, Captain Stacke, MC, the book's author, has provided so detailed a coverage of all the Worcestershire's activities, trials, tribulations and victories, that it is possible almost to be beside Fred as his experience of that supreme trial of men unfolded.

There is just one not insignificant downside to all of this.

Despite all the luck and kindness recounted above, I do not have and have never seen a photograph of my Grandad in uniform. Repeatedly, I asked my Nan if one existed, but she always became evasive and quickly changed the subject. I was thinking that she did have one, but did not want to part with it, even to me. I had told her that I would get it copied and return it to her. Still I had no joy and eventually gave up asking for fear of perhaps upsetting her further.

And there it lay until a chance conversation with my Mother in 2009. On the mention of the possible whereabouts of this photograph, I received the answer my Nan was never going to give me.

"I can tell you what happened to that, Mark. When we moved from Long Lane to Summerfields Avenue in 1944, Mother, (Nan), threw it out to make more room when we got to the new house."

'Make more room when we got to the new house'!!!

I was, and still am, speechless when I think of this. No. 325 Long Lane was a small, two-bedroomed terraced house which had no doubt struggled to accommodate a family of five. No. 6 Summerfields Avenue on the other hand, was a large three-bedroomed semi which housed them with ease, as my Mother had by now married and left home.

Believe me; I have spent more time than is healthy reflecting on the logic of this frankly unreasonable action, but am no further forward now than when I started.

Nor never will be.

I loved my Nan and still do, even though she is gone, but will never understand how a photo that had been found drawer space in a small house suddenly could not be found the same in a house three times the size!!

And so is history lost.

My Nan, bless her!!

Edited 8 March , 2013 by Private36064

[Roger H]

A fascinating read!

Roger

[Mark88]

Many thanks, Roger - much appreciated.

Used to work at Meteor Ford, Moseley - 1986 to1989, and in the Summer we would store surplus vehicle stock at the side of the rugby pitch. Sadly, I never saw a game there.

[spconnolly007]

A fascinating read!

Seconded!! Really enjoyed that Mark, thanks for sharing.

Kind regards,

Sean.

[Mark88]

Hi Sean,

From a man of your talents, I consider that praise indeed! Thank you.

Kind Regards,

Mark.

[Andy Wade]

Yes, that is a fascinating read and a great shame you haven't been able to locate a picture of him, thank you very much for posting it!

Of course you could still strike lucky if you can find any regimental 'group photos' that he might be on, or if one or both of his injuries were reported in the local paper, you might be able to find something. The newspaper local to me ran many pictures of men every week and I have over two thousand that I've photographed from the newspaper archive. You never know...

[Martin Bennitt]

A fascinating tale. I hope you find the picture you are looking for

cheers Martin B

[gilbo139]

Really interesting,4th was my Great grand ads battalion although sadly they wouldn't,t have met as he died of wounds in Nov 16 . I've also spent some time around poelcapelle trying to weigh up the 1/8th movements during the battle , in my own amateurish way!! Have you tried the local papers of the time for a photo, I found one of my GGrandfather in the Worcester Berrows Journal of 1917 and that's the only one I,ve got ...Regards. Colin

[Kath]

Thanks, Mark.

Very interesting.

Kath.

[mrjustinhayward]

I kept finding myself drawn back to the photograph of your grandfather, and the way he regards the camera given his story. Thank you for sharing such an interesting post and good luck

Justin H

[Mark88]

Lady & Gentlemen - Thank you most sincerely for your kind comments, good wishes and most constructive and helpful comments on this post.

Andy & Colin - why I had not thought of newspaper archives as a possible source for a photograph of Fred, I just do not know! Probably spent too much time trying to reconcile the irreconcilable and indulging in a tad too much self-pity to think straight! Your advice has provided a timely boot up the backside, and this avenue will be explored with some diligence and the result, whatever it may be, duly posted here. Either way, as soon as I read your words the 'spell' was broken, so to speak. Thank you.

Justin - Having had that photograph of Fred for many years, I suppose I have become used to it, and now I look at it without seeing it properly. Your words have made me study his expression - one I was used to seeing in real life - which does give an intimation of his undoubtedly determined nature.

Briefly, with the £300 gratuity he received for the loss of his leg, he bought an old cart and a horse named Billy to pull it. He got Billy cheap because his previous owner said he had no more work left in him. Fred found a field for Billy to rest and play in on a nearby farm and slowly they became friends. Came the day when the horse was shown the cart, and he backed between the shafts without being asked.

Fred and Billy worked together for some years, hauling coal, fire clay and anything else they cold find that needed moving. Fred subsequently bought a Model 'T' Ford lorry and became a successful haulier and was still in business when he had a bad fall from a coal hopper in a colliery and broke his pelvis in the early 1950s Up to then, he had not used a stick and many who worked with him were not aware he had a false limb..

Son Harry was already in the business with him and continued until he sold it in the mid 1970s Fred later got a job as a lift driver in Lewis's department store in central Birmingham and had to be persuaded to retire at the age of 67.

He died in 1970 aged 72, a game little scrapper to the last.

So, Justin, to pick up on his manner of regarding the camera is most perceptive of you.

Many thanks again for all your interest and comments.

Mark.

[jbw541]

I hope that you find Fred`s photograph. That is a wonderfully written post, thanks for sharing it.

[phildee]

I am New to the Forum,but may I just say what a Fantastic Post I found It quite Moving.Well Done

[madgarry]

That was a great read,many thanks

[themonsstar]

Hi Mark

Thank you for sharing your family history,I know I am fortunate in knowing my grandmother (Dads side of the family), who told me stories about her younger brother who was killed in the war and also my grandfather ( mothers side of the family) , whose older brother was killed, also in the First World War.

Both of them generations are gone now, I was one of them little boys, who was always asking questions, fortunately I did get a lot of questions answered about who, what, where and when. and I have fond memories of all of the characters who played a part in shaping my life today.

Its just a shame my little two rug rats/ Jam eaters don't seem to have the same inquisitiveness of family history that I have, but in my defence, I probably got enough to last 10 lifetimes.

Roy

[enoch beard]

hello,

might be somewhere in your tree! arthur detheridge from the county express held at stourbridge library on microfilm

enoch

[Mark88]

Many thanks again for all your kind comments and good wishes - I am just glad that Fred's story has proved of some interest to forum Pals. Thing is, if he were still around I know he would kill me for posting as I have, but, on the other hand, now he is gone his story, like the many others as yet untold, belong where they can be read, shared and even perhaps prove a piece of the jigsaw in someone else's research.

Sorry, Fred, but it just had to be done!

Roy - apart from the classic description of your two children, I found the phrase, "I have fond memories of all of the characters who played a part in shaping my life today" absolutely spot-on. It could not have been better stated and, of course, echoes mine and many others' feelings for family we can see no more. It is clear that without doubt, you posses sufficient inquisitiveness to last many generations and you need no defending! You never know, we were all 'rug rats/jam eaters' of a kind once, and your evident enthusiasm may prove more than they can resist as they get older.

Enoch - I was rather hoping you would respond, and I offer friendly greetings to a fellow 'Blackheathen'.

Many thanks for posting Arthur Detheridge's details. I had come across him some time ago in the CWGC lists, but by that time it was too late to ask anyone of his generation if he was related to us. My Mother and Uncle do not know of him, but I had never seen his photograph, or the cutting you have kindly posted. I just think with a Yorkshire name like Detheridge popping up so close to Fred & family in Blackheath, he just has to be related to us somewhere along the line. Will have to go back to Ancestry and see if I can find a link.

I would think I am right in saying that if you had come across anything on Fred in the County Express archive in Stourbridge Library, you would have noted it as a matter of course, him being a Blackheath soldier? Next week, I will go there myself and see if anything turns up, and I thank you for pointing me in the right direction.

Many Thanks again to all for your interest and comments.

Mark.

Edited 9 March , 2013 by Private36064

[enoch beard]

hello mark,

i might have missed fred in the county express , i mostly copy killed and died men. if you dont find him the county express you could try the dudley herald at dudley archives. its a bit of a pain having no local newspaper at the time in the rowley regis area!

i have changed arthur address on ancetry from black street to beech street (mistranscription) i hold me hands up

enoch

[Mark88]

Hello Enoch,

OK - many thanks for that, and will definitely go to Stourbridge Library next week and try my luck.

Again, I am most grateful to you and the others who have pointed me in the direction of newspaper archives. Being very used to WW2 RAF research, for which I have never had a need to consult newspapers, has given me a complete blind spot - until now that is - to their evident benefit with Great War research.

This is probably a silly question, but are the Dudley Herald archives held in Dudley Library, Enoch? But I do take your point regarding the lack of a local newspaper in the Rowley Regis area - I bet that has caused you endless problems over the years.

"Oh no, sudden death to me will be sudden glory"

How moving for such a young lad as Arthur Detheridge to say that to his Mother. It could well be that she gave that as an inscription to be engraved at the base of his headstone in Villers Station Cemetery. God bless him.

Mark.

[enoch beard]

the dudley archive is in coseley at the moment, but is moving next to the black country museum in the summer

http://www.dudley.gov.uk/resident/libraries-archives/local-history--heritage/archive-and-local-history/the-big-move/

i would say fred and arthur are related , being both born in hurst green / cakemore area, most of me moms neales were from that area!

enoch

[Mark88]

Hello Enoch,

Many thanks for the information on the archives.

Your mention of the surname Neale rang some bells, and I have just spoken to my Mother who has jogged my memory as to where I have heard it before.

Our next door neighbour in Howley Grange, Dorothy Gibson - married to Les - was a Neale. Her parents names were Sam and Selena, and they had another daughter, Rene. I believe they lived in Masters Lane, in fact very near Billy Higgins, who was my Grandad's best pal. He was an RFA Gunner and survived the war. I knew him quite well until he died in 1986.

Could this be your family, Enoch?

Mark.

[enoch beard]

mark,

my mom's grandmother maiden name was eliza neale, but that was a few generations back!

here she is on black country connections

http://bcconnections.tribalpages.com/family-tree/bcconnections/251781/5421/Eliza-Neale-Family

enoch

[Mark88]

Hello Enoch - perhaps the people mentioned above are not related to you, by the look of the tree on Black Country Connections. Anyone you can ask, Enoch?

Mark

[PFF]

Did you know what School he went to? Possibly a class picture....prehaps?

[Mark88]

Another avenue I had not explored - many thanks for all your input and help.

PFF - Pathfinder Force?