Tag: wartime

A war to remember

The Alamein Memorial at the entrance to the El Alamein War Cemetery in Egypt which commemorates WW2 fallen servicemen who fought in the North Africa campaign and whose remains have never been found. Lynn Catena’s uncle, Arthur Pearce, can be found on Column 32 (Picture CWGC)
The huge El Alamein War Cemetery in Egypt which commemorates more than 20,000 fallen servicemen (Picture CWGC)

In response to my column about the six Smith Brothers of Barnard Castle, five of whom were killed in World War I, Lynn Catena contacted me to say: “My mum’s brother was killed in action on December 19th, 1941, at 24 years of age. Apart from a tatty telegram there was no further word (that I know of). Several years ago I discovered the Commonwealth War Graves Commission (CWGC). I messaged them with the scant details I had and within 24 hours they responded with a list of the deceased (including my uncle), along with the cemetery and memorial reference. His name is etched on Column 32 at the Alamein Memorial in Egypt. He was my grandparents’ only son.”

His name was Arthur Pearce, and Lynn’s grandmother was long gone before the record was found. I can’t imagine the grief she must have suffered knowing her only son died in a country more than 3,000 miles away. The lingering pain of not knowing where his remains lay, of not being able to visit his final resting place, must have been acute. Did the fact that many other familles were suffering in the same way at the same time help, alongside the fact that they died heroes defending the freedom of their home and country? Sadly, most of those who could answer this question are no longer with us, but do let me know if you have ever spoken to your relatives about it. They came from a generation that was not used to discussing such deep internal emotions, and therefore may not ever have felt able to express their memories openly.

Lynn’s message prompted me to visit the CWGC website again, to see if I could find her uncle’s record – and sure enough I did, but not before I had to scroll past pages and pages of names engraved on the Alamein Memorial. It was truly sobering to see hundreds of fallen men, most of whom were aged in their 20s and 30s. The oldest was 50, and the youngest a mere 16 years old. They came from the various countries that united in the North Africa campaign to oppose German and Italian forces in a battle over control of the Mediterranean. The sea gave access to the East via the Suez Canal, a vital supply route leading to Russia via the oil-rich Middle Eastern block. As well as the UK soldiers from the Royal Artillery, there was air support from Australia, and infantry from New Zealand, South Africa and a few other countries.

What caught my attention was that 9th December 1941 was a particularly bad day for casualties. Where most dates listed from a few deaths into the 10s and 20s, on 9th December more than 300 servicemen were killed. My knowledge of WWII is what you might call at ‘headline’ level, and I know even less about the North Africa campaign. I felt I owed it to the men whose memorial I was looking at to educate myself a bit more.

The 9th December 1941 was just two days after the Japanese bombing of the US naval base Pearl Harbour on the island of Hawaii which prompted the States and a number of other countries to officially enter the war. It was also around the mid-point of Operation Crusader, the allied offensive to once and for all take the strategically important Mediterranean port of Tobruk on the north Libyan coast, 150km west of the border with Egypt. Rommel’s German troops supported by Italian allies had been trying to capture the port since the previous April in what is called The Siege of Tobruk. The new offensive, made up of British, Indian, New Zealand, South African and Free French forces, drove the Germans and Italians back into Libya enabling allied troops to gain firm control of the port.

The Alamein Memorial forms part of the huge El Alamein War Cemetery where more than 20,000 fallen commonwealth soldiers are commemorated. There are around 8,000 graves (812 of which are unidentified), and nearly 12,000 more names listed on the memorial because, like Lynn’s uncle, their remains have never been located.

Statistics like that make me grateful that I have never had to face the horror of a world war. I hope such a thing is never allowed to happen again.

Do you have opinions, memories or ideas to share with me? Get in touch with me using the ‘Contact’ button on the top right.

This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 21st and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 19th Nov 2025

Pals for all eternity

A photo taken by my dad in 1979 on our visit to the Somme battlefields. I’m not sure which cemetery it is, but it is possibly that of the Yorkshire Regiment. Please feel free to tell me if you recognise it.

Another photo taken on the same visit. Again not sure which cemetery but perhaps one of you know? Do get in touch if so.

When Brian reader contacted me about his quirkily-named relatives Rocious, Fera and Ellengor last week, he also posed a question about his family’s history of serving during World War I.

He explained how his forebears had joined up: “Albert and his brother John Elliott were both in the Northallerton Borough Band and in the 4th Battalion Yorkshire Regiment band. Rocious and two of his brothers were also in the Yorkshire Regiment, John Jackson and James Edward (killed in action in France in 1918).”

Brian posed the question: “What was the maximum number of people from the same family serving in the same regiment?”

I’m not sure if Brian meant what was the ‘permitted’ maximum of soldiers from the same family serving in the same regiment (if there was a limit), or whether he meant what is the ‘record’ for the most people from the same family serving in the same regiment. Large families were common in the early 20th century, so it was possible that the number could have been a pretty high.

However, my guess is that large families serving in the same regiment would only have been recruited before 1916. You might remember that back in 2019 I wrote a piece about my family’s 1979 visit to the battlefileds of the Somme in France when I was 12 years old. My young self failed to understand the significance of the ground upon which I walked.

When they launched their River Somme offensive on July 1st 1916, the British Army expected little German resistance after a sustained artillery bombardment the week before. They couldn’t have been more wrong, and within the first hour, almost 20,000 of the 120,000 allied troops lay dead, while 37,000 were wounded. The Battle of the Somme lasted 141 days and resulted in around 1.5 million casualties on both sides, yet enabled our troops to advance a mere six miles.

The awful death toll led to the military abandoning their recruitment strategy known as the ‘pals’ battalions. To encourage men to join up, the army had canvassed potential soldiers in groups from the same locality, from workplaces, towns, villages, sports clubs and practically any community with a common interest. They promised them that they could serve alongside their family, friends, neighbours and work colleagues (in other words, their ‘pals’), rather than the usual method of being assigned randomly to regiments. Entering the unknown with familiar faces next to you was far more attractive than being thrust into a war alongside total strangers. The drive was highly successful, with ‘pals’ battalions being established all over the country.

It’s worth remembering that most of the soldiers recruited from places like the North York Moors would be farmers and labourers who would never before have ventured far from their own homes. National Service didn’t come in until after the Second World War and so the training would have been extremely limited and the men would have little concept of the atrocities they were about to confront. Entering this scary and unfamiliar world would be easier if you had family and friends coming along with you.

Sadly, as men from the same places served side by side, so it meant they were killed side by side. It left gaping holes in the communities to which they belonged, and devastated families who had sent fathers, sons and cousins to fight. Certain areas suffered far higher losses than they otherwise would had they been assigned randomly to regiments. One of the worst affected was the East Lancashire Regiment, better known as the Accrington Pals. Of the 700 members who all came from in and around that Lancashire town, 235 were killed and 350 were wounded in the space of 20 minutes on the first day of the Battle of the Somme.

Following the carnage, the army reverted to more traditional methods of recruitment to avoid anything like it happening again. Therefore it is unlikely that a high number of people from the same family would have been enlisted to serve in the same regiment after that date.

I wonder if Brian’s ancestors were recruited through the ‘pals’ scheme to fight in WWI? And do you have relatives who joined up through the ‘pals’ scheme? I’d be interested to hear any interesting war stories, so do get in touch.

Do you have opinions, memories or ideas to share with me? Get in touch with me using the ‘Contact’ button on the top right.

This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 26th and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 24th Sept 2025