Thomas
Whitham (11th May 1888 to 22nd
October 1924)
One Saturday afternoon in March
2015 I packed a flask and a Kitkat then headed to
Fence, a small Lancashire village. I was looking for the location of Thomas Whitham who was awarded the Victoria Cross for bravery in
the First World War.
Once off the dual carriageway I found myself in a small quiet village
with stone houses alone one main street. I found the church on an empty leafy
lane where detached houses gave way to countryside. It wasn’t really a church -
it looked more like a posh barn, no lofty spire, no multi-coloured windows. The
sign said this was Inghamite Burial Ground. I didn’t
take the advice of a sign to call in for a coffee. In the past I’ve called into
similar churches to find old women with nice hair styles and bad legs hobbling
over to me, offering cups of tea (the kettle always seems to be near the charity
box - and the biscuits are usually so hard you could use them as body armour.)
I doubt they got many callers as the place was a little remote.
The back of the church opened up to quiet a large graveyard. There was a
man walking his spaniel up and down the main paths. He saw me scanning the
graves in the old section and pointed to where the newer graves were. I was
looking for an old one though - that of Thomas Whitham
who died in 1924.
If you haven’t found the grave you’re after in ten minutes it usually
takes about an hour. I was starting to get a little disheartened when I saw a
bright red wreath down one path and that was the one I was after - so a ten
minute find, then. It’s good to know someone is calling at the graves of brave
folk and they aren’t forgotten forever.
At the First World War ripped through Europe Thomas Whitham
joined the Coldstream Guards. At 29 he was fighting
in Pilckem near Ypres, Belgium. The battalion was
under heavy machine-gun fire. Not only were the enemy shooting but invading the
exposed battalion. Using his initiative Thomas worked his way from shell-hole
to shell-hole, shooting and killing while people were they were trying to kill
him. Eventually he reached the main machine-gun and, together with an officer
and two others, silence the machine gun and took over the hole. This bold
action was of great assistance to the battalion and saved many lives.
Thomas returned home a hero. Burnley council presented him with a gold
watch and chain and his portrait was painted (see photos.). More than that he
was presented with the Victoria Cross at Buckingham Palace. However less than a
year from returning home a hero Burnley Council gave him a bricklayer a 'curt
and humiliatingly dismissive' rejection letter when he tried to get a job bricklaying.
He was soon living in poverty and the gold watch and VC medal ended up in a
pawn shop.
Though married with three children he was an errant father moved around
the country looking for work. He disappeared from family life and his wife was
forced to move in with her grandfather. With the help of the press she tried to
find her husband and finally tracked him down to lodgings in Liverpool. Later
he found work in Gatley near Manchester. In October
1924 he was admitted in to Oldham Royal
Infirmary suffering from severe complications stemming from a life of extreme
poverty. He died at just 36 of peritonitis.
Seven years after his death the council bought the gold watch and
Victoria Cross back off the pawnbroker for £50. For thirty years the grave remained
unadorned but Coldstream Guards Association erected
the headstone on his grave. Here I am by it.
Thomas’s son spent decades trying to convince Burnley Council to return
the medal to the family but it still has them and they can presently be viewed
in Towneley Hall (his portrait is also in there,
too.)
In the same graveyard I spotted the headstones of two other soldiers,
one just 19. There were also two headstones lying together with Mickey Mouse
type ears (see below.) As I
was posing for the camera with a heart salute he man walking his spaniel passed
by again. “It’s a Victoria Cross grave,” I uttered to him as he passed but his eyes
didn’t even veer toward the red wreath. I got in the car and had a coffee from
my flask and a Kitkat. The wrapping of the Kitkat was the same bright blood red as the wreath on the
grave.
The church was
more like a posh barn…
A bit stuck…oh, where
to start…
In happier
times: after getting the Victoria Cross at Buckingham Palace and with this family…
Also I spotted
these grave next to each other. Impressive Mickey Mouse ears…
