I didn’t expected this graveyard in Leigh to be so vast. I thought I’d
“nip in” on the way home from a long weekend in the Lake District, find the
grave and soon be back home to quell the hunger pangs. I ended up walking
around for nearly an hour.
Strangely as I pulled up outside the main gates someone was pulling up
driving the same model of car in the same colour. The occupants looked
scruffier than me and I didn’t fancy them nicking the wheel trims off my car
(even though the whole three-piece suite on wheels is
only worth £450.) I got chatting to them and, as locals do, they scanned over
the photo I had of the headstone I sought then directed me to an area nowhere
near the headstone. I’ve learnt to ignore people’s guesses as to where grave
lie.
Though the cemetery sprawled over acres I found the headstone by
matching up an oddly-shaped tree in the photo with the tree itself (and there
were a blooming lot.)
Alfred was born in Leigh not far from his final resting place, working
in a mill with his dad as a cotton piecer (dangerous
job, leaning over rapidly moving spinning machines to repair broken thread.) At
21 he was fighting in France in July 1916. He was a private in the 1/5th
Battalion, The Manchester Regiment and fighting in the Battle of the Selle.
On 20th October 1918 at Marou in France
three troops were advancing against heavy German guns - without success. The
troop Alfred was in was pinned down by enemy firing from a sunken road from 50
yards. Heavy machine-gun fire was coming at them from front and right flanks
and many men lay dead by their sides. Realising help was needed volunteers were
requested to go back to headquarters to fetch more men. Four volunteers had
already scampered across the 600 yards of open country to the reserve line -
and four men had been slaughtered and now lay dead in the grass.
Alfred volunteered knowing the 600 yards was a killing floor and
anyone trying to cross its deathly measure was volunteering to die. Heavy
machine-guns and bombs rained on any soul in German cross-hairs. Somehow Alfred
made it in 15 minutes to raise help. How I wish you could go to a website and
see this happening from a bird’s eye view. Again he dodged cross-crossing
bullets to return; this 30 minutes of his life must have welding itself into
his brain for the rest of his life (which wasn’t long.)
On 8th February 1919 Alfred was given two weeks special leave to
return to the UK to receive the Victoria Cross. Arriving at Leigh railways
station he was welcomed home by the Mayor and various townspeople. They put him
in a carriage pulled by horses and took him to the Town Hall escorted by
mounted and foot police, a detachment of soldiers from the guard at the Leigh
prisoner-of-war camp, Boy Scouts, St John’s brass band and various discharged
soldiers and sailors. At the reception he gloriously celebrated and given 500
War Savings certificates and £50 in cash (later also a gold watch.) Alfred was
a quiet unassuming man who didn’t like attention so this must have been an
uncomfortable day for him (later on he declined nearly every offer to take part
in any public affairs.)
In February 1919 he travelled to London with his mum and brother to
Buckingham Palace to receive the Victoria Cross from King George V. After the
ceremony it was back to Belgium to re-join what was left of his old battalion.
Though he gained a Victoria Cross Alfred had lost lots - his eldest and
youngster brothers and his dad all died in the war.
After the war he was employed by the Leigh Operating Spinner’s
Association. Leaving the arm Alfred worked for the Leigh Operating Spinner's
Association. They were bombarded with criticism when they docked Alfred’s wages
when he went to attend a Victoria Cross Reunion Dinner in the House of Lords
(he was duly reimbursed.)
Alfred married Grace when he was 35 and they had a daughter. They
bought a sweets and tobacconists shop but gave it up shortly before the
outbreak of the Second World War.
Sadly there came a stupidly early death at 43. Alfred joined the Bickershaw Colliery in Leigh as a laboratory technician but
on 18th October 1940 he was at work complaining of a headache and wondering
whether to go home. At noon he was found dead. The pathologist reported death
by carbon-monoxide poisoning (a dead sparrow was blocking the flue from the
furnace.) I’ve learnt only people can dispense fairness as kismet and anything
almighty doesn’t: after years fighting people who would kill him without
thought Alfred was indirectly killed by a sparrow.
The streets of Leigh were lined with spectators to watch the
impression cortege pass, three deep in places. The Knights of St Columba, the Special
Constabulary and the British Legion had each asked to carry Alfred to his last
resting place. He was lowered into the same grave at his dad with full military
honours. The black marble cross I’m stood by here was paid for by The
Manchester Regiment and Wigan Borough Council.
In 2006 Alfred’s Victoria Cross was bought at auction for £110,000 by
Lord Ashcroft (who collects the crosses - one day I hope he comes across my
website as I’m trying to get round all these brave folk.)
In the car I had a coffee and slither of chocolate to hammer
the hunger pangs (wheel trims had not disappeared.) I was glad there was a
red wreath on Alfred’s grave; good to know someone else is ensuring these brave
folk aren’t forgotten.
With his mum and brother Henry…
Touching the “VC” and there it is on
his chest…
The funeral…