This is Derbyshire --Mike Hall, of Mickleover, tells the remarkable story of the uncle who died in the First World War and his father's quest 'for the love of a good mother':
IN 1914, my uncle Harold Herbert Hall joined "The Koylis"– The King's Own (Yorkshire Light Infantry) Regiment, as soldier number 203906.
Records show he enlisted in Derby on a date unknown and joined the first battalion. I have a photograph showing him as a young soldier in service dress uniform.
You can clearly see the cap badge of the Koylis, which is unique among English light infantry regiments. The horn is of a "French" type with a twist. In the centre is the Yorkshire white rose linking the regiment to the House of York.
The badge has no crown, which is unusual for a British regiment. It was also the smallest cap badge in the Army.
The 1st Battalion of the Koylis were, in 1914, stationed in Singapore. On February 17 of the same year they moved to Hursley Park, near Winchester, Hampshire, to join the 83rd Brigade of the 28th Division.
The 28th Division were mobilised for war on January 16, 1915, and landed at Le Havre, France. They were engaged in various actions along the Western Front and were based in the area between Bailleul and Hazebrouck.
They took part in the Second Battle of Ypres and the Battle of Loos. On October 26, 1915, the 28th Division embarked for Salonika, in northern Greece from Marseilles, France, sailing via Alexandria, Egypt, and engaged in various actions against the Bulgarian army.
As part of the 28th Division's campaign in Salonika, the Koylis maintained the occupation of Mazirko and the capture of Barakli Jum'a. In 1917, they captured the Ferdie and Essex Trenches. Later that year, they also captured Barakli and Kumli.
On June 20, 1918, they returned to France leaving the 28th Division and joined the 151st Brigade of the 50th Division, to once again see action on the Western Front.
Back in Derby on the home front, although worried about Harold Herbert and the recent loss of their beloved daughter, Vera, the Hall family, now living at 38 Shaftesbury Crescent, Pear Tree, Derby, got on with their lives.
On June 12, 1918, at the age of 40, Hannah gave birth to a healthy boy whom they named John after his father, who was then aged 42.
I can imagine the joy and happiness they must have felt with the birth of my father.
However, some months later, a telegram arrived, informing the family that Harold Herbert had died of pneumonia on September 9, 1918, in Salonika. He was just 20 years old. He was buried in Mikra British Cemetery, Kalamaria, Salonika.
Hannah did not take Harold's death at all well. As she explained to my father many years later, it was difficult to come to terms with being able to pay her respects, lay flowers and say a little prayer at Vera's grave but she would never be able to do the same for Harold. She felt that her grief could not come to an end without at least one visit to his grave.
In the coming months, the family received "The Next of Kin Memorial Plaque and Scroll". It was made from bronze and nicknamed the "Dead Man's Penny" because of the similarity in appearance to the one penny coin, in circulation at the time, irrespective of the difference in size.
The family were also sent Harold's personal effects and his two medals – the British Campaign Medal and the Victory Medal, which, when worn together, were affectionately known as "Mutt and Jeff".
Life continued happily as my father grew up with two loving parents and his big brother, Frank, who just happened to be 18 years older than him. He had, of course, never met his eldest brother.
And so came the Second World War. My father enlisted in the Army in August 1939, almost a month prior to the outbreak of war. He joined the 150th W/T Section of the Royal Corps of Signals and began his training at Catterick Camp, North Yorkshire.
The invasion of Iceland (codenamed Fork), by the British Royal Navy and Royal Marines, began in the early morning of May 10, 1940. The island was taken without trouble and with little or no resistance.
On May 17, 4,000 troops of the British Army arrived to relieve the invasion force. My father, as a private in the Royal Corps of Signals, formed part of this relief force.
The unit he was in was quickly deployed to Islafjordur in the far north-west of the island to look out for potential German invaders coming through the Denmark Strait.
During 1941, the unit was transferred to Borganes, in a fjord about 25 miles due north from the capital Reykjavik. The accommodation was pretty basic, with the extensive use of Nissen huts.
In July 1941, Britain passed responsibility of Iceland to the USA under a US/Icelandic defence agreement. British troops left to be deployed elsewhere.
After Iceland, the whereabouts of my father is unknown. However, he did find time to marry my mother, Ada Ethel Ratford, at St Michael's and All Angels' Church, Alvaston, on December 8, 1942.
During the war years, Ada worked six nights a week at Rolls-Royce, in Derby, carrying out inspections of several different types of machined components.
My father's next known appearance in the Second World War is near to Algiers, Algeria, in 1943. From here the 150 W/T Section of the Royal Corps of Signals was sent to Drama, in north-east Greece, where they remained for the most part of 1944.
By this time he had been promoted to corporal. In early 1945, the section moved to Faliron, near Athens, where they remained until the end of the war on May 8.
Demobilisation for all troops began in June 1945 and was organised on the basis of age and length of service. At the time, most servicemen involved agreed this was implemented quickly and efficiently and was basically concluded by the end of 1946.
My father's recollections, especially with respect to travelling through Italy and beyond, were of long and boring train journeys either sitting down on the floor, or laid out asleep, in no more than what could be described as goods wagons. The journey started in warm and pleasant conditions that got progressively colder as the train approached the Italian Alps.
Unlike many of his compatriots, who sold theirs for profit, he had refused to part with his sleeping bag, which he found essential in keeping warm on the long journey home.
At 28 years old, he wanted to get home as quickly as possible to see his wife again, of whom he had seen precious little since 1942.
Also, he was keen to show his mother and father that he was no longer in any danger and really was safe from harm.
Moreover, he had an important surprise for his mother. During his service in Greece, he had found the grave of his eldest brother, Harold Herbert Hall, and had taken a photograph of it.
His thinking was that, if his mother could not visit Harold's grave to pay her respects, then the next best thing would be to provide her with a photograph that she would be able to cherish for the rest of her life.
Hannah died in 1948. I never met her as I was not born until October 1949. After my birth at the Queen Mary Maternity Home, in Derby, I did enjoy the company of my grandfather for nearly five years. He came to live with Mum, Dad and I at the family home, 54 Westgreen Avenue, Shelton Lock.
My mother, Ada, died on December 4, 1988, in Derbyshire Royal Infirmary. We moved my father to sheltered accommodation in Mickleover the following year, where he remained independent to the end.
On most Tuesday evenings, throughout the year, my father would join us for a meal. Later, he and I would enjoy a drink or two at Mickleover British Legion. It was here he told me that, at long last, he was going to collate all the family photographs that, for years, had been stored in an old leather brown suitcase and would create a family album he could show his two grandchildren.
This he did and it brought to my attention the truly remarkable story behind the photograph of the war cemetery grave.
At another one of our nights together at the Legion, I asked him how he had managed to take this picture because, as long as I could remember, I never saw him take a single photograph. He referred to an old proverb saying that "necessity is the mother of invention" and said no more regarding the photograph. However, he did go on to say that, in life, it is impossible to do too much "For the love of a good mother".
Do you have family stories of the First World War? Perhaps a grandfather or father served in the conflict. Call Derby 291111; e-mail: bygones@derbytelegraph.co.ukor write to Derby Telegraph, Meadow Road, Derby DE1 2BH.
MIKE HALL'S FAMILY HISTORY MY paternal grandmother, Hannah Hall, nee Banks, was born in the West End of Derby in 1877. She was the second born child of William Banks (1854-1923) and Sarah Chapman (1856-1916). They had six children – five girls and one boy. They were Harriet (1875-1957), Hannah (-1948), Emily (1880), Ada (1883), Lucy (1889-1954) and William (1882-1948). Hannah remained very close to her young brother, William, throughout their lives and they both died in 1948, in Derby. The family lived in the West End of Derby for most of their lives. During the 1880s, they lived at No 1 Court Six, Willow Row. In later censuses, they were recorded living in Leaper Street, next door to the Seven Stars pub. In the 1850s, piped water supplies were introduced for all new houses across the country but demand outstripped supply. People in back-street houses throughout Britain had to continue relying on stand pipes. Willow Row had no piped water and, consequently, relied on a hand pump to obtain ground water fed into a stone trough. Located within the courts would be a number of privies (toilets, but not as we know them). Several families would have to share one. My paternal grandfather, John Herbert Hall, was born on September 19, 1875, in the Litchurch area of Derby. He was the third-born child of Herbert Hall (1848-1916) and Mary Ann Thorp (1845-1902). They had ten children, four of them girls. They were Mahala Jane (1878-c1935) who lived most of her life in Philadelphia, USA, Eleanor Ann (born 1879), Gertrude Millicent (1881-1907), Maud Mary (1882-1964). The six boys were John Herbert (1872-1875), Frank (1873-1945), the second John Herbert, George William (1878-1933 and twin to Mahala Jane), Alfred Edward (1884-1947) and Garfield Henry (1885-1963). The 1871 census finds Mary Ann and Herbert living at 4 Slater's Yard, Canal Street, Castlefields, Derby, again a court-type dwelling. By 1881, the Hall family had moved to 39 Fleet Street, Litchurch, a two-up, two-down type property but with the added benefit of a dedicated outside privy that was shared by both parents and their children. Hannah Banks married John Herbert Hall at St Werburgh's Church, Derby, on August 29, 1897. The wedding certificate reveals the bridegroom signed his name in full, while the bride signed with a cross. My father told me that, at the time of her marriage, his mother could neither read nor write. The following year their first child and eldest boy Harold Herbert Hall was born in the March. The next child was Frank, born circa March 1900. Their only daughter was Vera, who came along in September 1909. She was a sickly child and died at home, 28 Goodale Street, Normanton, on March 13, 1910, barely six months old. Her death certificate states the cause of death to be "convulsions". An inquest was held two days later on March 15. "Convulsions" is not very explicit but given medical knowledge at that time it is hardly surprising. The medical dictionary tells us that convulsions can be the result of several different conditions. For example, an epileptic seizure, or sudden unexplained death in epilepsy, or the more common and likely cause of Vera's death, a febrile seizure triggered by a fever. Hannah and John Herbert were devastated. Vera was buried at Nottingham Road Cemetery. Regular visits to the grave were made by the family over the years and well into the 1950s and 1960s. Hannah and John Herbert's final child, my father, also John, was born on June 12, 1918. Reported by This is 22 hours ago.