Saved by a Luck and a German Surgeon

Saved by Luck and a German Surgeon

By Harold Cunliffe

It can be a time consuming task to unearth interesting material to fill a weekly newspaper column relating to days gone by. Remembrance coverage could be difficult when looking for first-hand accounts, relating first hand experiences from those who did their bit, because for some reason many people did not relate what they did during the war.

Local and national newspapers were not allowed to publish stories made by servicemen who were home on leave and wanted the press, especially local, to publish their story, but what we do find is a list of those who never made it back home, those who lost their lives. It is always interesting to hear what happened in a Lancashire town during the time of conflict, tales detailing day to day events during the Second World War from a survivor. It was a number of years ago when the thoughts of putting together a feature for Remembrance that an interesting story came knocking at my door, so to speak. Initially Mr and Mrs Fred Simpson decided to call in the newspaper office while out shopping to leave a message for yours truly, both wondering if their wartime experiences would be of interest to the readers of the local newspaper which I was contributing material. Naturally I was keen to document any new source of material for posterity then arriving at the Simpson’s Middleton Junction home it was Edith Simpson who greeted me, and made me most welcome. Within minutes I discovered that she once lived at a “Battlecruiser,” a Lancashire term for ‘boozer’ or pub. This public house was the “British Queen,” a pub I knew well, this being the place where my late father spent time propping up the bar. Edith (nee Boardman) related that at the time she lived at the pub she was still at school, Parkfield, which was a short distance away. It was at this period she spotted a young boy named Fred Simpson, who she later married. Next I was handed a collection of items known as Ephemera, invoices and receipts which related to the British Queen, strangely it had the licensee of William Boardman? The items of ephemera it transpired were stored in the loft by her late granddad that also held the licence to the pub, so two generations had lived and held a licence at the British Queen public house. During our conversation I discovered that the pub, now demolished, was located in a prime spot, it was on the main road from Manchester to Rochdale, which became a popular watering hole for passing customers. Many of those who dropped in were American servicemen from

Burtonwood, the American base located in Warrington. At the time Edith was to marry Fred, one of the American G.I’s enquired if she had a wedding dress, being wartime the answer was negative. “Leave it to us,” replied the American customer.” A couple of days later a group of the boys from Burtonwood arrived, entering the British Queen sporting smiles on their faces, “A wedding present for you Edith,” they announced, then upon opening the packet she found inside a silk parachute. Cutting the top and trimming the bottom section, adding a belt, Edith then had a white silk wedding dress. The cake however was not edible, just a cardboard box which had been covered with plaster to look like a wedding cake. Mrs Simpson had an interesting collection of family photographs, and best of all, she knew who the people were and could identify them individually. Closing the album, she looked in my direction with an air of sadness, then related the tale of a family member who served in the First World War, she said that she would dearly love to visit his grave at the local cemetery but she had no idea where it was located. Edith remembers Joe Partington from her childhood, he stood out because for many years he wore a white cotton hanky over his left eye to conceal a wartime injury, then as technology moved on he had

British Queen pub

Joe Partington

an operation to fit a false eye. The injury however was sustained during a battle in France. Joseph suffered an injury to his head during the fight against the German’s which left him lying unconscious on the battlefield surrounded by many dead soldiers. Once the conflict was over a number of German medics covered the field looking for survivors prior to a burial teams carrying out their tasks. It was a German doctor that happened to be passing the spot where Joe had been placed who heard faint moans and groans which alerted him to a body in a burial pile which happened to be Joe, who he found was still alive who was rescued and the same doctor operate on him which saved his life. I mentioned to Edith that this story was amazing, he was very lucky, he could have been buried alive, and even more amazing was that she opened the family photo album to produce two photographs of him. The image used shows Joe with his white hanky covering his injury with his sister Alice to his left, with Edith Boardman (Snr) and baby Alice, seen on his right. Our other image shows Edith Boardman, who got her wish to visit the grave of her uncle; she is next to the grave of her uncle at the Boarshaw Cemetery. Staff at the cemetery were very helpful in the locating of the grave. “We Were First In!”

My visit to the home of the Simpson’s held another surprise; during my visit husband Fred returned home from his daily exercise, he was keen to keep himself fit by having a walk each day, then following pleasantries he informed me that he was once a “Commando.” Their motto is, “First In, Last Out.” The job of a commando was to go in first and make the area safe for the invading forces, to knock out the German lines etc. Naturally I sat up in my chair upon hearing this and my brain went into overdrive listing the number of questions I wanted to put to Fred. first I mentioned was that he was a bit of a hero in the eyes of some people, but this comment he strongly objected to, “I am no hero, we were a team, we went in together, we went in to do a job and got on with it, we looked after each other, so no one man was a hero.” In my mind he and his comrades were certainly heroes. They were first on the battlefield upon landing and made it as safe as possible for the landing crafts. Commando Fred Simpson explained that they all knew what to expect, they had been trained in Scotland, “A place which toughens you up,” he commented. “You would be fast asleep in bed then the door would open at 3.30am, everyone being awakened for training, you had to jump out of bed, grab your back pack containing a full kit and set off on a five mile run through the hills and icy cold streams in bitter cold conditions, but this training was to save your life, and also those who were with you.” Little did I realise at the time, but I was to hear first-hand accounts which would remain in my memory for the rest of my life. Fred was in fact one of the first to land on the beach in France, on the front line on D-Day, 6th June 1944. The Normandy coast was overrun with Germans, all wanting to prevent their advance. Our local lad was given the dangerous job of holding a lamp to guide the landing crafts, shells and bullets were flying past him as he stood on the beach being illuminated with his spotlight; one tank came so close to him that it ran over his foot, but because the sand was soft he sustained no injury. In one of our conversations he related that upon being the last out he happened to be passing the communications and press office area where he saw one of the staff outside burning thousands of black and white photographs. Their job was done so it was decided to have a clear out. As a matter of interest Fred took hold of a handful of the photographs to inspect the subject matter. They were taken by the Army photographers. The images published are a selection of the photographs Fred rescued and brought back to England. Up until the time of his death, it was always interesting chatting to Fred, a person who did his bit at D-Day, a landmark event in the fight against Hitler. A Trip to Town

Edith Simpson handed a photograph from her album which depicted a pig in a cart at the old Market Place, surrounded by a large group of townsfolk. The only information available was that it was taken around the First World War. It was thought that there was a family link to this event, but other than that no further information

Pig auction at Market Place

was known. The subject matter shows that a pig was being auctioned, or sold off for some reason. Almost all of the local newspapers for the 1914-18 war have been archived so the search was on to unearth the facts. Luckily the auction of a pig to raise much needed funds took place early in the war, so details came to light without too much time being spent searching the archive. It transpires that a farmer, Mr J.Wright, Rhodes House Farm donated a pig to be auctioned to raise funds for the Primrose League Sewing Society who had provided hundreds of comfort items to our soldiers and sailors serving abroad. They worked tirelessly to provide warm clothing. Auctioneer, Mr A.E.Fielding volunteered his services, and in starting the auction he announced, “Now ladies and gentlemen, I want to sell this pig, and I want you to give as much money as you possibly can give for it is for a good cause, and the proceeds will be devoted to provide comforts for our soldiers and sailors. We who are safe and comfortable at home must do our best for those who are serving their country, and here is a good opportunity for those who have not helped to do so.” Mr Fielding then requested that a few strong men hold the pig in an elevated position for all to see, but none of the menfolk came forward to take his offer so the animal remained in the cart. The first bid was for £4, and then the hammer came down following a bid of £5-5s (£5.25p) by Miss Young. In a bid to secure more cash Miss Young offered the pig back for a second auction. Bidding was slow and did not commence until Fielding mentioned that all who purchase the pig will have their names recorded in the newspaper, thus recording them in the history of the town. With this announcement bidding commenced and twelve people made bids, one as little as ‘five bob’ (25p today) to have his name recorded for posterity then immediately offering the pig back. Bids commenced again ranging from ten shillings, (50p) and above. It was a cold January afternoon and the large crowd were beginning to feel the cold. The auctioneer decided to bring the auction to its conclusion and was requesting final bids, which commenced with a starting bid of ‘thirty bob’ (£1.50) with bidding soaring to a final bid of £4-10s, (£4.50) in which the hammer came down in favour of Mr J.Wright, farmer of Rhodes House Farm. It was an interesting day where a farmer offered a pig for auction then ultimately ended up purchasing his own animal, plus the specimen porker had spent a pleasant afternoon in town away from the farm and enjoyed being the centre of attention. Total raised at the auction for comforts was £19. During my time of producing a weekly column for the local newspaper I featured the photograph of the pig auction, hoping the readers may be able to identify people on the image. Within days following publication Mrs Sheila Morantz, who lives in Kent, made contact. Amazingly, the man on the right with a walking stick is Mr Fielding, her grandad. But what was of great interest, Sheila went on to provided information and images relating to the once well-known and reputable Fielding family to our archive.

Right Page : A selection of the photographs rescued by Fred at the end of the Second World War