The Ballad of Billy Unsworth

The Story of a Salford Lad at Home and at War

By

Graham WALKER

The 4th August 1914 saw England declare war with Germany. In September of that year, in a public house near Salford Docks, one man’s fate was about to change. His name was Billy Unsworth, and this is his story.

“The next man through that doorway joins the Army if he’s able”...... said Joe as he sat at the bar finishing off his pint. Several of the local lads had joined up that week, including Joe, and the reality of war was beginning to sink in. When Joe had told his wife that he’d volunteered she was so upset that she hasn’t spoken to him since. Things were real now, the war in France had been going on for a month and stories of it all being over by Christmas were filtering back to Salford. Those that had not already gone, or signed up, were making up their minds whether to go round to Salford Lads Club on Coronation St and sign up. I guess nobody wanted to miss out on the glory, particularly if they could all return home soon.

Billy had finished his shift at Glovers in Trafford Park that Friday afternoon and walked across Trafford Road Bridge, turned up Ordsall Lane heading for home and although wet through, decided to call into ‘Nicky Burkes’ for a quick pint before taking the wages home to Bella, then put the kids to bed as they did together each and every night. Billy’s local pub was The Greyhound, affectionately known as ‘Nicky Burkes’ after the landlord. The pub stood on the corner of Bigland Street and Woden Street in Ordsall attached to a row of back to back, two up two down, terraced houses similar to the one Billy lived in on West Dixon Street, and it was only around the corner from Sunnyside Street where Billy was actually born. Money’s tight, but as a Brass Turner Billy earns enough to keep the family going and gets out for a few beers with the lads a couple of nights a week where possible.

All the lads in the pub seemed to stare at the doorway as Billy walked in and took his coat off, shook the rain from it, and hung it up on the coat rack along with his empty canvas lunch bag with its fraying string through the metal loop holes around the top. As he put his cap on a peg, he sensed that everything was unusually quiet and that something was up. “What…?” Billy said looking around. “You’re joining the Army mate…..” said Joe, who had really had his liquid fill, but was calm and sincere in the way he spoke.

Joe turned around on his stool to face the bar again and bought Billy a pint and as he handed it to him explained that the lads had all put a few coppers in, and the bet was that the next man to walk through that door was joining the Army. Well this is something that had been on Billy’s mind for a while and with the Army recruitment drive getting stronger every week it would only be a matter of time before he volunteered anyway. You see Billy didn’t have to join up, his job in engineering would really keep him safe at home working for the cause where skilled men were becoming scarce, and it wasn’t as if he hadn’t done his military bit already.

Bella was at home getting the tea ready aware that Billy would have called in for a pint as he usually did at the end of the working week. Bella was the same age as Billy, they were born in October 1881, Billy on the 11th, Bella on the 8th. . They married at the local parish church, St Bartholomews, on 2nd January, 1904. They were 22 years old when they married and apart from Billy’s previous time in the Army both had lived their lives within the close knit Ordsall community. Their families all lived within walking distance of each other which also meant that everyone was in each other pockets, which was part of the way of life in Salford.

Billy had already seen action in the Army, having served in The South Africa War, commonly know back home as The Boer War. He was then Private 4781 W Unsworth and received the Queens South Africa Medal with clasps for active service at Cape Colony, Orange Free State, South Africa 1901 and again in South Africa 1902. Billy still carried the memories as he and Joe chatted away over another beer. The Lancashire Fusiliers lost a lot of good men during that campaign, and as a sign of respect when the soldiers returned home, some local football clubs named their stands after ‘Spy Hill’ which the British knew as ‘Spion Kop’, in particular Liverpool and Blackpool Football Clubs, who’s supporters made amongst the Lancashire Fusiliers, and indeed a good number of whom were Billy’s mates.

Billy arrived home unusually late that Friday night, and Bella could sense that Billy was not his usual self. He gave an excuse for why he was late, but it wasn’t until the next morning when Billy sat down with Bella and told her that he was going to join up again. Bella wasn’t happy at all with this. Words were exchanged, and Billy gave his reasons why he had to go, and that was that.

Billy’s enlistment into the Lancashire Fusiliers was pretty swift, although he did have to sort it out with his boss at Glovers in Trafford Park as they were not too happy at losing him. He joined the 9th Battalion which had recently formed in Bury on 31st August, 1914. With his previous military experience he was soon back in uniform, and within a short time had two stripes on his arm and was training raw recruits the best he could in the short time he had and with the sparse facilities and equipment which was available.

January 1915, snow on the ground and out in the wilds of the Lincolnshire Countryside Billy was shaping these lads into some kind of military outfit, but if he was honest this was not the fighting machine that would end the war quickly. Billy was now based in Grantham, where thousands of other men from the North West were based which included a variety of Regiments including Pals Battalions. The Pals Battalions were made up of men who lived in the same street, men who worked in the same factory, men who went to the same church etc., The idea that these men would fight together and come home together was to be severely tested over the following 4 years. There were lads amongst them who could be no more than 15 years of age. Billy even knew some of their families, and had a beer with their dad’s only months previously.

Springtime 1915 and there is no news of when or where the Lancashire Fusiliers were going. Would it be France? Would they be staying in England? Everything was a secret. Training was relentless, same thing day in day out, parading up and down, cleaning kit, peeling spuds, marching with full kit for hours on end. Drilling the men was taking its toll on Billy’s throat as the shouting of the orders on the parade ground constantly made him hoarse. Grantham was getting a bit of a grind, but at least it wasn’t too far away when the chance of a few days leave came around to see Bella and the children. Releasing troops for a spot of home leave wasn’t easy, as the deserter numbers were a big concern for the Army. Inoculations were given to all the soldiers, and Billy went down with a bit of a fever as a result, nothing serious, but it didn’t half make his nose run. The Sergeant Major always kept the soldiers working until lunchtime on a Saturday, so the logistics of getting home to Salford and back was tricky, plus they had to be back on parade first thing Monday morning.

Writing home was unusually difficult. “‘What do I say?” said Billy, as he sat in the wooden hut which doubled as a canteen for the Corporals, “All my letters start ‘Dear Wife’, and end with “Your Loving Man!’. And I do send all my love to the kids and that. I love Bella very much, and I so much wish to be home, but this is just something I have to do”. Billy was a realist, and only wrote about things that were relevant and not too complicated, and made sure that he didn’t just rabbit on for the sake of it. He knew Bella was coping by herself at home and had no intention of leaving any matters ‘hanging in the air’ in a letter, if something needed saying though, Bella said it.

On 24th April, 1915, Billy posted another letter to Bella. The thing to do, it seemed, was to write a few lines at a time as the days passed, and when the letter reached a worthwhile length it would be folded up, stuck down, and posted. Generally, the notepaper was sponsored and sold by the YMCA and had a very jolly picture at the top showing a large marquee with flags waving from its apex and surrounded by several smaller bell type tents. Next to the tents was a picture of three soldiers, all smart in their uniforms and shiny boots with puttees wrapped around their calves going up their knees. All three soldiers were armed with a rifle as though engaged in a glorious battle. A small banner underneath the YMCA logo read ‘For GOD and for KING and for COUNTRY’. Billy remarked in a letter that he was glad ‘our little Curly’ was getting alright again, and explained how difficult it would be to get home for longer than a day. Little Curly was Billy’s daughter Emily and all kinds of stunts were pulled to get home on leave, and he wasn’t alone in his attempts. “I’ve written a letter to our Charlie asking if he will write to me, telling ‘a proper tale’ and this may touch the Major’s heart....” Getting leave was becoming more and more difficult due to those who did not return. “I’ve enclosed you a one shilling postal order. Please give the children a penny each and get a drink for yourself...” and “Would you please send me a pocket handkerchief or two, my nose is running off my face....” In one letter Billy wrote that there were “3 stamps in the left hand match box in the kitchen....you may as well use them”. This was not to tempt fate, but more a resignation that he may be away longer than he first thought. Billy really enjoyed his time on leave, and it showed when he ended a letter to Bella by writing “I remain your loving husband and father William”. PS... “I don’t think I will come home again until I have been to France as when I come back here from home it gives me such a melancholy feeling and it takes a full fortnight to get over it.....” Billy knew he was soon to be leaving England.

Things were hard at home for Bella. Army pay was not the same as a Brass Turners and making ends meet was particularly difficult. The house was rented and had to be paid for every week and with Billy not being at home to help out with the children, the chores, and the day to day things Bella had taken for granted over the past years would all have to be dealt with by herself. Overall it was a large family, and when any of the lads were around they helped out where they could. It would only be a matter of time though before she would reach the end of her tether. At least she could call round to her mother’s each day if required, as she only lived on Crookell Street, which was a two minute walk along the cobbled streets. Bella wrote to Billy as regular as possible, sort of setting out the ritual of once she received a letter she wrote one back, and this worked for Billy as well. It’s not easy writing regularly and knowing what to say, I suppose if Billy had to work away from home because of his civilian job, then knowing what to say in a letter would come easier, and maybe with not as much uncertainty. Bella asked if Billy had forgotten her. He wrote back...”Dear Wife, do not again ask such a silly question as “Have I forgot you already?” as every moment that I am not engaged my thoughts are always with yourself and our bonny children...” Tragedy was a word known to Billy and Bella. On 13th January, 1908, aged just 13 months, their daughter Lillian died. Death at such a young age was not uncommon in Victorian and Edwardian England, particularly in the smoggy poverty stricken cities. “Asleep in Jesus” is written on the family headstone underneath Lillian’s name. In the same family resting place is Ada, the beloved daughter of Billy’s eldest brother Francis and his wife Mary. Ada died on February 18th 1909 at the tender age of 5. “A little lamb safely folded”.

The pay sheets for the soldiers were slow to catch up with them. This meant they were paid a certain amount a week over the counter and a record would be kept by the pay staff until their personal documents were received from their respective regiments. The pay sheets finally arrived in Grantham from headquarters in Preston and by this time the bad news was that most of the soldiers were two or three pounds in debt. The average soldier was drawing around sevenpence a time, but Billy’s mate Jack however, was two or three pounds in credit. Sending money through the post was not a good idea either. Billy could feel a sixpence once he had sealed it inside an envelope and decided instead to keep the money until he was able to take it home himself. Bella had warned him about sending money that way and he took it on board. Sending photos in the post was something that all the boys did. Getting a black and white photograph taken in uniform for the lads to send home was also a good little business for local photographers. “Dear Bell, I only wish that America would start in this war. I would be off tomorrow and join the American Navy, you are sure of fifty shilling a week. I would know then that you and our children would be properly provided for, but while I am here I am wondering and pondering how you are pulling through it all....I would like to come home and see my children dressed in their best for Whit Week....I don’t think I would care then what they did to me...”

Billy got news that he was moving with the Lancashire Fusiliers down to Surrey. This may be an indication that they were going overseas he thought, and also realised that it would be a lot further away from Salford than Grantham was. Just before leaving they were issued with brand new uniforms, khaki in colour, new helmets, and rifles with bayonets. Some of the bayonets were made in the USA to British specifications and it wasn’t unusual for America to ‘profit’ from the war in Europe without actually joining in. The rounding up and compulsory purchasing of horses for the war effort would also prove very lucrative both at home and throughout the world. The soldiers at least had their minds on getting the uniforms to fit correctly and spent time training with the new rifles and bayonets rather than having to find things to do or to use pieces of wood whittled into the shape of a rifle.

Godalming was a place that hardly any of the Fusiliers had heard of before. They were billeted in wooden transit type buildings with bunk beds filling every available space. Over the past few months the lads were starting to bond in their platoons, and were learning to cope a little better with being away from family and loved ones, even though they were still in England. News finally came that they were ‘on the move’, but to where was still a secret, they had no idea of their destination. There had been around 60 deserters over the past few weeks, and if it carried on, there may not be leave granted at all.

Billy was expecting a letter from Bella, each soldier waiting each day for news from home just to keep in touch and hopefully putting a smile on their faces as they relied on their memories when reading over a mug of tea or a beer in the canteen. Some of the men lay on their bunks and read their mail over and over. The letters from home takes them from their own daily routine and gives hope that they will return safely. It’s funny how those memories are of sunny days, laughter, and loved ones. The last time Billy was on home leave he spent a boozy week in Salford and his last night at ‘Nicky Burkes’ was spent with Bella. He had left early that final night to begin his trip back to camp and was rather a bit worse for wear. He was glad to hear that Bella hadn’t got home in the same condition he was in himself. During the evening Billy and Bella danced closely together to a slow tune being played on the piano. Billy was to take that treasured memory with him.

Billy had found out that his brother Robert had joined the Army, and hoped that he had joined as a plate layer, because if he had, he would be earning good money. Robert was 2 years older that Billy, and had joined the Royal Engineers. Bella had kept Billy’s best watch at home as it needed repairing. He wrote asking if she could get the watch repaired for when he returned next, and if it cost too much then he would try to get the money to her the following week. Billy had to go back to camp before he had chance to see his other brother Charlie, who wasn’t very well at all.

A common practice among the lads was to make their photographs into Post Cards and send them home. Billy had this done and it was one of these picture postcards of himself that was to be sent home to Bella by a friend later in August 1915.

On 3rd July, 1915, Witley camp in Godalming was being cleared as they prepared themselves for the train journey. Only what they could carry was to be taken by each soldier, anything that was to be stored was loaded onto freight carriages by working parties from each company who hand-balled it from the stores onto carts pulled by horses or whatever motorised trucks were available. The stores were taken to a railway siding near to the station and loaded onto the train, carefully checked by the Quartermaster and his staff. The men marched from Witley camp to the local railway station, their kitbags were marked up with their name, number, and company. They would be re-united with their kit once they got to the docks.

“Hello! Hello! Who’s you lady friend? Who’s the little girlie by your side?”....sang the lads as they marched along. Not really in step but just in files and rows as you would imagine seeing soldiers plodding along, rifles pointing in all kinds of directions slung over their shoulders. The song had become popular in the summer of 1914, and soldiers from all over the country sang it bawdily as it became a kind of an anthem, and they all knew the words. “I’ve seen you with a girl or two, Oh! Oh! Oh! I’m surprised at you”.....they pointed at each other as they sang the chorus lines. Some were staring into nowhere though, their thoughts to themselves. They all became Jeremiah Jones as their mates pointed at them; imagining themselves to be the fantasy figure in the song that always got the ladies when they were out on the town in a foreign land.

The railway station was very busy by the time they arrived. There were mess tables set out at the entrance to the platform, clerks sat behind them with an officer stood close by to oversee things. Every soldier was ticked off on a list as they passed by confirming who they were. There was a lot of noise, particularly from the boots banging on the wooden floor boards as they walked through the station entrance. They boarded the train and found themselves a seat as best they could. The plan was that every soldier had a seat of their own, but the corridors were choked with the lads leaning out of the windows having a cigarette. There were ten or fifteen carriages to each train, each having a number chalked on the side to indicate who was supposed to be in what carriage......army discipline and organisation. This also helped at the other end so when they got off the train they could form up easily enough and not lose anyone.

The train finally arrived on 4th July, 1915. The troops dismounted from the train, and in a similar orderly fashion as the day before, left the station, re-united themselves with their kit, and boarded the SS IONIC. The IONIC was a 4 masted vessel, with 4 decks and a single funnel in the centre which sloped aft. It was built in 1902 in Belfast’s Harland and Wolff shipyard and was owned by the White Star Line. Requisitioned for the war effort to carry troops, it had to be slightly converted as it had started its life as a refrigeration ship travelling back and forth to New Zealand. With its industrial type cranes on board it was an easy task loading and unloading the vast amount of stores and ammunition. The IONIC survived the war, and was eventually sold and broken up in 1937.

Billy kept the lads busy by checking their kit and checking it again. Making sure they had cleaned their new rifles, that they were serviceable and ‘ready for action’. As he settled down aboard the SS IONIC he realised that this was it, they were going to war. He looked at the soldiers, well it was more like looking at a local organised pub outing from Salford, and it made him think that if they were to go into action a lot of the fella’s he’d trained over the past few months were not going to be coming back, and what would he say to their families, and how could he sit and have a pint in Nicky Burkes like he used to?

When he served in South Africa, having joined the 5th Battalion The Lancashire Fusiliers, Billy wanted a bit of adventure away from Salford, it’s cobbled and dreary streets, and the mayhem of life among what was described as ‘the slums’. You see, Billy’s dad Robert had died suddenly in November 1899 when Billy was 18 years old. His early death came as a shock. His father was only 46 when he passed away and is buried in Weaste Cemetery, Salford, in a family grave. The Unsworth’s were close, as you may imagine, growing up in a two up and two down terraced house situated across the road from Salford Docks which was fed by the rapidly expanding Manchester Ship Canal and was probably the biggest industrial revelation in the north of England at the time, taking trade from Liverpool who had previously cornered the shipping market for such a long time. Francis, or Frank as he was commonly called, was the eldest brother, and born in 1877, he was 4 years older than Billy. Then there was Robert junior, he was born in 1879, then Billy in 1881. Henry was born in 1884 and eventually joined the 1st Battalion the Royal Munster’s for his part in the war. After the war Henry became something of a mystery, as his family found he had an alias and were certain that he was doing something ‘on the quiet’ for the military. Charles was born in 1886 and he joined the Royal Marines. John was born in 1888 and joined the Manchester Regiment, who were the main local rivals to the Lancashire Fusiliers in terms of recruitment as the Manchester’s barracks in Ardwick was in walking distance from their home in Ordsall. John served in France and was killed at the battle of the SOMME in July 1916. Albert was next, he was born in 1891 and also joined the Manchester Regiment and served with the 11th Battalion. Albert was to go to Gallipoli at the same time as Billy, but they never met up, although the two battalions fought more or less side by side during the August of 1915. James was the youngest, he joined the Navy as a stoker and was aboard HMS ERIN in 1915.

The morning of the 5th July, 1915, the SS IONIC set sail with her strange cargo. Bringing frozen meat from New Zealand was one thing, but taking men to war would certainly be a challenge. France was only a short crossing, and the supplies that were taken on board seemed to be slightly excessive in Billy’s eyes. His doubts were to be confirmed when they were two days into the voyage and France was nowhere in sight, and indeed the weather started to get warmer rather quickly. The Commanding Officer got the Senior NCO’s together and explained that they are heading through the Mediterranean and then onto Alexandria. There were to be a couple of stops en route to collect water and supplies, however, there was to be no shore leave for the troops. The message was passed down the ranks. “So this is why we’ve been given this kit” said Billy “It’s not exactly what we would expect to wear in France is it”. Not even the CO knew what their final objective was, or indeed when they would be deployed, it was a secret only to be unveiled a couple of weeks later.

The first stop was Gibraltar, the gateway to the Mediterranean. One of the Fusiliers knew his history and explained that they had just passed through the waters where Nelson copped it at the Battle of Trafalgar. Billy was no first time sailor. He’d been to South Africa and back and kind of enjoyed the calm sea with the sun glinting off its surface as he leant against the railings on deck. “Bit like being in prison eh Billy lad” said a Sergeant “Cooped up like chickens we are”. The calm before the storm they thought? Billy remembered when he sailed along the African coast and how they relaxed aboard ship, nowhere to go but in that there was time to reflect, time to develop the mind without too much disruption. Billy explained to the sergeant “When my father died I lost the one person I admired most. We didn’t have much but he knew how to look after us, and he was a great mentor. I suppose I got my independence from him. I didn’t really want to go all that way from home, but I just did it. I had lots of time to think while I was away, just like now, and I know what we are going to go through, and I just hope I can help get these lads through it and get them back home to their families”. The two men stood silent looking out to sea. The ship was gently moving up and down like a kind of slow funfair ride, but there was no getting off it just yet.

The IONIC finally landed in Alexandria on 17 July, 1915. The men were taken ashore and transported a short distance to a tented camp. There seemed to be a city of tents all prepared in perfect rows with gaps that were likened to streets in a grid iron fashion. The larger tents were the mess tents with wooden tables and benches set out inside where meals were had and gatherings could take place and where orders were given. The heat was tremendous and the vast plateau of sand offered mirage effects as the lads squinted to spare their eyes from the huge sun above. The clear blue sky was like a huge ceiling keeping in the heat as if they were in the giant greenhouse that Billy had visited in Buile Hill Park as a child. Thoughts that once again took him home.

Billy and the lads are going to be on the move from now on, “Puttees on, Puttees off...” one of the boys shouted as he was throwing his kit into a tent. “Not to worry lad...” said Billy “You could be up to your eyes in water and howitzers in a trench in France with the Manchester’s mate......think yourself lucky”. They were only in the camp two days when they were on the move again. Back onto the old IONIC which had now become their surrogate home. “Oh well old girl....” Billy said to the ship as he climbed the shaky wooden gangplank, “Here we go again”. The ship was loaded with its human cargo once again, this time it would be making a much shorter trip to Lemnos, an island off the Grecian coast. This place was purposely chosen by Winston Churchill, First Lord of the Admiralty, however, it would not cope with the eventual casualties from the campaign that Billy and the boys were about embark upon.

The ship pulled into Mudros Bay on a beautiful sunny morning. There seemed to be wall to wall shipping in that harbour and the beach was overrun with military and naval men moving boxes from one pile to another, then a horse was untied from its hitching post and shackled it up to a large cart which transported the boxes away along a dusty track into the distance. The locals were friendly enough, they were busy in their small fishing boats, catching whatever they could and selling it to the troops. Local hardened sponges seemed to make ideal trinkets and would sell for a small fee. The men were gathered together on the slopes of the shore line as they sat with their respective units and were given their orders. They were going to a place called Gallipoli. Gallipoli was only days away now for Billy, and he and the Fusiliers would be transported once again on the SS Ionic, but not before a couple of days rest and further training on the island. “It’s certainly a beautiful place....” said Billy as he lay on his back with his head resting on his ammunition pouches “Best take the opportunity of a bit of relaxation while we can lads we’re on the move in the morning”.

Bella received a letter that Billy had posted on 12th July. She began to read the letter to the children who were sat huddled together, looking at her silently..... “I write these few lines to let you know that I am in the best of health and spirits. We came aboard this ship on Monday last and we are still journeying on....” Bella looked at the children for their reactions. Happy that nothing had happened to their father so far, they stared at their mother, eager for her to continue. They missed their father, and so did Bella. She paused for a short while longer then carried on reading aloud.... “I have not let you know the name of the ship or the place we are bound for but we expect calling at some port or other tomorrow, Tuesday 13th July, and our CO is granting us a favour by letting us drop a line to our relatives....” Bella showed the children a picture of a ship that Billy had sent with the letter as she read on.....”This is a picture of the boat we are on but I have cut the name off. I now conclude hoping that this finds you and our children in the best of health as this leaves me at present..........I remain your loving husband and father.........William...” PS....”Be careful what you put in your letters as each one has to be passed by censors....Good Night...having a lovely journey...” Bella held on to the letter tightly, happy that the children had at least heard from their father. The letter Billy sent had indeed been read by a sensor as it was signed in the bottom right hand corner by Lt E H Davies. Bella looked at the address at the top of the letter. It read.....No.9417 Corp W Unsworth, Z Coy, 9th Battalion, Lancashire Fusiliers, 11th Division, British Mediterranean Expeditionary Force, c/o GPO.

Billy had sent another letter a couple of days previous, but she had kept it from the children, as Bella had written to her husband and it contained her anger at him not being at home. It was only natural as the worry was tremendous. Billy had asked her not to have cross words with him in her letters, but it was too late for that, what’s done is done. He sent several pictures of himself and asked her to hand them out as she wished, but to make sure his mum got one, his brother Frank got one and one to be given to Deb. His letters always contained rows of kisses at the foot of the page, and on this particular letter he wrote “Au revoir but not goodbye....our Platoon is No.13....unlucky...” Bella had also told him that his brother James had got married suddenly before rejoining his ship and that Henry had been wounded in France.

On the morning of 23rd July, 1915, the Fusiliers set sail again, this time their destination was Imbros, a Greek run island off the coast of Turkey in the Aegean Sea. This would be another brief stop before hitting the beaches of Gallipoli. A few of the lads had come down with dysentery on the island and several were feeling the effects of the cholera inoculation received before they embarked on the journey. They were escorted by various Allied Warships including HMS Grasshopper, a Beagle class destroyer, HMS Basilisk, named after a mythical lizard and again a Beagle class destroyer, and HMS Snaefel, a beautiful paddle steamer launched 4th May 1907 from Clydebank. The Fusiliers stayed on Imbros until 6th August when they set off to capture Hill 10, which overlooked Suvla Bay which the Army had named ‘A’ Beach. They were to complete a night attack which was to start at 2200hrs. Billy wasn’t to know, but his brother Albert, who was with the 11th Manchesters, was tasked with moving north from their landing position, clearing the Turkish post at Ghazi Baba, then another enemy post at Karakol Dagh and advance along the ridge line a further two miles and then dig in. The Northumberland Fusiliers and the Dorsets were to meet up with Billy and the Lancashire Fusiliers on Hill 10, which was to the east of the landing positions, then advance together. Now there are some strange things that happen in wartime, in particular from higher echelons, and on this occasion the soldiers were told ‘not’ to charge their weapons until daylight, and to fix bayonets......bayonets only were to be used. If they heard any firing at all, it would be the Australians further round the bay.

The Fusiliers Commanding Officer was Lt Col Harry Welstead. He had told his men that it would be all over in 3 days. Well Billy sort of laughed at the idea and turned to his mate and said......... “I don’t think this fella has a clue, he sounds a bit too keen for me. Let’s see just how long he lasts himself...” Supplies were on hand and were supposed to be brought up behind the advancing troops, but this never happened, their personal packs, stacks of blankets, and small packing cases would never get to the men. Water was also in very short supply, although they did have barges specially adapted to carry the water to the beach head and canvas hoses to pipe it ashore. The troops, who looked like ants crawling all over the pier, started to climb aboard the ‘lighters’, large black steam driven barges with a chain driven ramp at the front, and holding over 500 men at a time. The lighters chugged and puffed their way out into the blue Aegean Sea towed by a small fleet of destroyers. Billy saw the clouds coming in quite thickly above from the mainland ahead. It was a beautiful day though, of that there was no doubt, and the men were singing as they sailed along. Hot tea and rum was issued and the lads kept themselves nervously jolly by singing until about two miles out from their landing site when the order was given for ‘silence’ and ‘all lights out’. Captain Marmion Ferres-Guy of the 9th Lancs watched as he could see and hear the gun fire from the battleships and cruisers. As they looked inland toward Cape Helles they could see rifle fire coming from the entrenched Turks as it lit up the night sky. At 10.30pm the destroyers cast off the lighters, which made their way under their own steam, across one mile of open sea to Suvla Bay. The lighters, as silently as possible, approached the beach, and the tender scraping of pebbles could be felt underneath and then the sight of the sandy terra firma as the barge nosed in as best possible. The clouds above were now thick and grey and were giving excellent cover as the allies landed at various locations along the shoreline. Billy listened to the rusty chains rubbing against the bulkhead as the ramp was lowered at the ship’s bow.

As if by way of a miracle, Billy’s lighter full of troops disembarked on to the beach without any confrontation. Each lighter had its own number and the Lancs travelled in separate lighters numbered K1 and K2. The chugging engines could be heard some distance away and it was a bit of a surprise that no-one on land was targeting his barge. By now the night was pitch black and Billy saw this as a blessing whilst they were on the water, but it may not be such a help now they were ashore. Once safely on the beach the men could see various other lighters along the coastline chugging away in reverse and slowly disappearing on their way back to Imbros to collect more troops, supplies, ammunition, and mules. An extract from the poem ‘The Landing at Suvla Bay’ reads : “Then came the gallant Manchester’s, With the Fusiliers by their side, Those trusty lads from Lancashire, Who filled our hearts with pride”. A fitting tribute indeed. Not all was running smoothly though, the lighters had landed in the wrong place, and were further south than planned. In addition, K2, containing a mix of 9th Lancs and 11th Manchesters, had run aground short of the beach and a sailor on board advised the CO to disembark into the water. The CO of the 11th Manchester’s and the Adjutant of the 9th Lancs disputed this with the sailor because they believed the water level was too deep. In the meantime the Turks at Lala Baba had spotted this and opened fire, wounding 3 men aboard the lighter. The CO gave orders for the men to get off the lighter. A rope was quickly anchored on the beach and was fed back to the lighter for the men to hold on to whilst getting ashore. Rifles were dropped into the salty sea and the Manchester’s lost a machine gun, which was quickly retrieved.

There was confusion everywhere, it was very dark and troops were landing in places they were not supposed to, which resulted in the 6th Yorks bayonet charging the Manchester’s until both sides realised that each other was not the enemy. While the men milled around on the beach, trying to find their units in the dark, Turkish snipers worked their way amongst them and picked off individual soldiers. Albert and the Manchester’s continued north and were involved in fierce bayonet fighting and came under heavy fire and shelling but achieved their objectives. Water was very scarce now, and even when they stumbled across a well they found it poisoned with mule carcasses and dead Turkish soldiers. It was dawn as Albert looked back across the bay. He could see the carnage that was left in their trail. Grounded barges, troops all over the place and ships out in the harbour with smoke emerging from their funnels gently blowing in the slight breeze of the early morning, firing their guns over the heads of the allies in the hope of pushing back the Turks.

Billy and the 9th Lancs were not faring too well, they had been given white arm bands to identify themselves to their own. However, this made them an easy target for the Turkish snipers. They still hadn’t found Hill 10, their objective, and the CO had been wounded and was back down on the beach awaiting support, which was still on the lighters. Billy had only a pint and a half of water in his canteen when he got off the lighter, and this was filled before leaving Lemnos, so not much of it left. They were told that the water and iron rations were to last two days. The main fresh water supply was still on the specially fitted lighters which were stranded out at sea. News reached Billy that the CO had been killed and that Major Ibbetson was now in command. Major Ibbetson led Billy and the remainder of the Lancs to what he believed to be Hill 10, in fact it was a sand dune around 400 yards south of it. The Turks opened fire from the real Hill 10 and from trenches 200 yards from where Billy and the lads stood. Major Ibbetson and the lads charged the first Turkish trench and captured it, but the Major was injured in the process. Reinforcements eventually arrived once command had realised that Hill 10 had not been taken. At around 05:30hrs a variety of regiments, pooled together, advanced on Hill 10 forcing back the Turkish defenders who had achieved their task of holding back the enemy until the last moment. Hill 10 was in allied hands by 07:00hrs. Billy was to remain on Hill 10 until the following day awaiting further orders.

Bella woke up early that morning, opened the curtains and made the bed. It was a bright morning and she felt a little happier when the weather was good. “Come on kids.....” Bella shouted as she opened the door to their bedroom. “Time to get up...” The usual moans and groans came from the children’s room and they eventually got themselves downstairs in some semblance of order. They sat around the kitchen table and had a bit of breakfast before setting out plans for the day. Bella sat on her own in the parlour for a while, only the ticking clock on the mantel piece could be heard. She was having another child, which would be their fifth. She prayed to herself that Billy would come home safe and well before the baby was born.

Back in Gallipoli Billy and the 9th Lancs were laid up just short of Hill 10 after being relieved. They had fought hard and were now resting. Apart from a few skirmishes here and there they had not been involved in much fighting these last two days. It was a kind of stale-mate but he had heard that fierce fighting was going on elsewhere and the dead and wounded count would be in the thousands. The heat was tremendous and the men were tired due to getting very little sleep, and there was no water left. On the morning of the 9th August, an attack on Scimitar Hill, less than 2 miles from Billy’s position was becoming a catastrophe. Heavy Turkish shelling and shells from allied ships were falling short of their targets and were causing heavy casualties so the order was given to fall back. The scorching heat and the shelling caused the dry scrub on the ground to catch fire. This soon turned the whole area into an inferno and dense choking smoke. A Victoria Cross was won as Captain Percy Henson of the 6th Lincolns who gathered a handful of volunteers and went back into the burning scrubland to rescued six injured soldiers.

The 9th Lancs had been stuck in the same position for two days. An attack on Kiretch Tepe Sirt ridge was quickly planned and Billy was told he and the 9th Lancs were to be in reserve for the attack as he was still dug in near Hill 10. HMS Foxhound began a bombardment and this time the shelling was more accurate. The attack was successful but was halted prior to the ridge due to absolute exhaustion. There had been no water resupply and the men were as thirsty as hell itself. By the 10th August the Allies had lost an estimated 25,000 men in the 4 days of fighting. Billy was now in reserve with the remnants of his battalion until 15th August, when he moved up the line to Azmak Dene when General Hamilton, instead of getting his men safely back to the beaches and away, decided to make one further last ditch effort to overcome the Turks and take the ‘W’ Hills.

Billy was trying to get something to eat while he had chance. However, there was no water to boil anything, and the tins of bully beef were turning into a mushy slop due to the intense heat. There wasn’t much room to do anything really because there were thousands of troops concentrated in a small rocky rugged area. It’s the 21st August and the Lancs were on the move. The day again was mad hot but an uncanny thing happened as they set off across the shrubby landscape.....a strange mist came in over the hills hiding the dazzling sun. This wasn’t good for Billy and the lads. The sun was supposed to keep the enemy from seeing them as they moved forward and now the Turks could see every move and with two divisions of enemy to confront and a further 6 battalions only 5 miles away it was bad news indeed, a freak mist just when you didn’t want it. It was 14:30hrs when the shelling started and there wasn’t the usual amount due to the shortage of ammunition, plus there was so many defective shells that many could not be used at all and were withdrawn. The Turkish shelling on the other hand was becoming very effective as it landed in the entrenched areas and the allies were taking many casualties. The noise was tremendous and there was chaos all around as Billy moved from rock to rock to seek shelter. The whistling of the shells overhead sent many into a panic as they tried to keep some kind of order.

Billy and the Fusiliers were attacking the southern end of ‘W’ Hills along with the 5th Dorsets. Twenty two allied machine guns were firing across the flanks from Chocolate Hill supporting the artillery fire. This was a full, all out, bloody battle. As the barrage continued Billy was down on his haunches in a trench with what was left of his Platoon amidst the dust and smoke. There were three lines of Turkish trenches in front of them and the task was very clear......Take the trenches. The whistle blew........that deadliest of noises among noise.....the one sound that sent Billy’s heart racing....”Over the top boys.....let’s go...........” shouted Billy. They scrambled over the trench parapet and pepper potted into the angry deluge.....”Get down”........shouted Billy as he quickly looked left and right to check his men were with him. “OK....lets go again......5 yards then down again lads....” Trying to keep control of his men under such intense bombardment was bloody difficult but it meant that Billy had something to concentrate on. The scrub was beginning to set alight again, adding to the mayhem, the heat, and the fatigue. The smoke was thick and yellow as it drifted past Billy’s platoon and it was difficult to know in which direction they were heading. There were bullets whizzing past them every few seconds kicking dirt up all around. There were horrible cries from the injured and terrifying screams as they fell helpless into the burning scrub.

Billy had his bayonet fixed and it pointed towards the ground in front of him as he ran forward.....THUD!!!.....Billy was hit.......the hot Turkish metal warhead ripped through his shirt and into his chest. It was like a burning javelin and it sent him crashing backwards onto the stony ground. There were bodies everywhere as he tried to get up but all he could do was crawl. He saw a small hut to his left and in desperation crawled the few yards and took shelter in it, panting for his life, totally exhausted.....he had nothing left to give. Billy couldn’t move. He lay there sweating and hurting and bleeding in the smoke filled hut. The noise began to disappear and his vision dimmed as the hut was set alight. This was it as Billy fell asleep for the last time. All around soldiers were shouting orders and trying to move forward to the Turkish trenches. Stretcher bearers were taking back casualties as best they could but were also being hit by the relentless hail of bullets and Turkish shelling. Lt Graham Brown was leading the frantic search for injured Fusiliers but it was too late for Billy........... He was never found.

Bella had just received the post card Billy had sent from Imbros on 30th July 1915. On the front at the top above the address Billy had wrote quite proudly “On Active Service” She smiled as she read his words on the back....”Dear wife, I now take the pleasure of writing you a few lines just to let you know that I am still in the best of health. The place we are at is very warm, it has made us all look like darkies. I have not dropped across Henry since but expect to do so any day. Hoping this finds you and our children in the best of health. I remain your Loving Husband and father....William”....................

CREDITS :

Original letters and family details have been very kindly made available to me by Tony GIBBONS (Billy Unsworth’s Grandson). My military research has been made possible with the help of Phil MATHER (The Lancashire Fusiliers Museum, Bury), Peter HART (Imperial War Museum London and author of ‘Gallipoli’), and Pete THOMAS (local military historian and author of ‘A District at War’) who also assisted me with the proof reading, military accuracy, and grammatical guidance (many thanks matey) and the diary of events in the story is also based on research from the book ‘SUVLA August Offensive’ by Stephen Chambers. Many thank’s everyone.

This short story, my first I should add, has been put together over a period of two years. After initially writing (and recording) the song ‘The Ballad of Billy Unsworth’ I found that the whole concept had captured my heart. A story that had gripped me like no other story had ever done. The story is based on the life of a Salford man who was your Mister average if you like, but actually, he was your proverbial adventurer. The early tragedy of losing his father, his service in South Africa at the turn of the 20th century, his return to England, his marriage and life in industrial Salford, has all contributed to the fascinating story of the life of a man who was to be killed a couple of weeks short of his 34th birthday whilst never seeing his fifth child. I now put my efforts into completing the book.