Made in Myrtle Street (Prequel) (5 page)

Edward had grown up in this tough but caring environment of late Victorian Salford without a father to provide a guiding hand and dependent on his big brothers for both sustenance and support. At home he had had his sister, Sarah, to share both his dreams and his troubles with, but it was the streets of Salford that had given him a deep insight into social and economic interactions. Streets where the neighbours were a watchful and guiding extension of his family. He felt sure that the people in Myrtle Street would provide the same support if it was needed in his absence but for how long before the sustaining bond was stretched too thin?

He knew from the dark night stillness on board the ships that there were 15,000 Salford men sharing the same pain and the same thoughts. There was only the distant rumble of the engines accompanied by the faint swish of the waves against the bows of the ships. The silence of the soldiers lay oppressively over the vessels.

Out of the darkness, Edward heard the lone but familiar voice of Liam as he started to sing ‘
Shine on Harvest Moon’ –
one of the popular music hall numbers of the day. Shortly, the robust tones of Big Charlie joined in followed by others who were grouped around him.  Edward looked up to see his two friends standing at the rail of the deck above. Very soon, the popular song was being taken up by troops on the neighbouring ships and within moments the whole convoy was singing.

The tension was broken and the bond of comrades-in-arms was sealed. During the next day they resumed training and, after being joined by other troop ships, including the battleship ‘Ocean’ and the cruiser ‘Minerva’,  the first fleet to leave British shores since the Napoleonic wars headed out into open waters.

***

England

9
^th
September 1914

Dear Pippin,

Thank you for your letter and for telling me about the Staffordshire dog. Your Mam was quite right to say that you should write to me and tell me about your accident because it is better to be honest about something and not to try to be sneaky. Don’t worry about it. Accidents do happen sometimes and it is better that the clog injured the pot dog than it injured you. By the way, I don’t think that axident will be in my dictionary because that is probably a very old way of spelling it from when people used to hurt themselves whilst chopping wood with their axes. I think that accident probably has a similar sort of meaning so I think that we could use this word instead. Maybe the aniseed ball will look alright if we paint it so we will try that when I come home.

We are on the train going down to Southampton at the moment. We are going to get the boat there and sail all the way to Egypt. We thought that the train had gone without Billy Murphy’s Dad after we had stopped at one of the stations but then we found him at the next one. He had been in another carriage collecting the names of anybody who plays rugby and the train had started to move. I don’t know how he thinks that we will be able to play rugby on sand, or whether we will ever have the time, so we will just have to see.

Thank you for helping your Mam to whitewash the backyard. It will probably be nearly Christmas by the time that I get back home and the weather will not be very nice by then, so I am glad that you have managed to do that for me.

I know that seems a long time to wait but just remember that I love you all to pieces and that you are all very precious to me. Hopefully the time will pass quickly and then I will be back with you again.

Love

Dad

Chapter 2

Egypt, Winter 1914

For the first three days the weather was bad and the journey was unpleasant – especially so for the Salford boys for whom the nearest contact with the sea had been a distant view from Trafford Road of the ships on the Manchester Ship Canal. The HMT ‘Neuralia’ was a 9000 ton passenger cargo vessel built in Glasgow and launched just two years previously. Its sleek 500 foot length and its two modern quadruple expansion steam engines were designed for mastery of the high seas but, unfortunately, its passengers on this voyage were not quite so well equipped. The transit of the Bay of Biscay proved a desperate trial for the Lancashire men who spent some days as almost permanent fixtures in their hammocks. Edward said his prayers and starved as a result of his total inability to face food, whilst Liam tried to remember his Hail Marys and struggled to climb back into his unfairly high hammock.

Big Charlie discovered, to his misfortune, that the open mesh metal stairs linking the decks together carried an additional hazard on this heaving ship when vomit from suffering soldiers on the higher levels dripped through the flights on to any unfortunates at a lower level.

For a while, Edward extracted some minimal pleasure listening to the desperate men prostrated around the deck who, believing that death was only moments away, were pleading forgiveness for a variety of intriguing sins. His own health, however, soon reached a nadir and even the entertaining diversion of the confessions failed to penetrate his consciousness. For days, he suffered the agony of the excruciating stomach contractions that ripped through them as he tried to eject the contents of an already empty stomach. The ship pitched and rolled, raised high into the air, sank gut-wrenchingly down into another monstrous abyss and the pale faces of the Salford soldiers grew greyer and their troubled eyes receded into dark sockets.

Finally, already some days beyond the point when they were convinced that death was inevitable, they passed Gibraltar and the conditions improved. Now they were sailing across a sunlit, flat blue plain and white crested waves lapped gently on to the distant shoreline. Dramatic, almost white, mountains covered in splashes of green vegetation rose up from golden glowing beaches and communities of dazzling white buildings were scattered around the hillsides. Suddenly the journey seemed more tolerable.

They were especially lifted when, just after passing Malta, they saw a large fleet of ships sailing to the West. The Lancashire soldiers discovered that the vessels were carrying the Lahore Division bound for Marseilles. These troops were war-hardened Sikhs, Ghurkhas, Dogras, Punjabis, Pathans and Rajputs all anxious to take on the might of the German army. Edward and his mates, lifted by the thought of these famous warriors fighting on their side, cheered and shouted as the ships passed. Liam told them that there was an old soldier who drank in the Railway and that he had served in India. He had said that these fellas were great when they were on your side but, if they weren’t, they would chop you into bits and leave you drying out in the sun for the birds to pick at. They then felt even more comforted to know that these fearsome soldiers were their allies.

A few days later, early on the morning of the 25 September, land was again spotted and everybody rushed to the ship’s rail to watch as Egypt slowly emerged out of the mist. Edward was amazed to see this thin strip of surf-lined sand with occasional clumps of palm trees clinging to it. It was just like the pictures that he had seen in the books at school. The ‘Neuralia’ pushed effortlessly through the still, blue water and, slowly, more features of this North African landscape began to emerge. Eventually, they managed to pick out some gleaming white buildings scattered like a child’s toy blocks along the thin strip of land. Soon they could see plumes of white smoke rising from the funnels of ships moored in the bay.

As the troopships slowly entered the harbour at Alexandria they passed an American battle cruiser on which the military band stood and played ‘God Save the King’. The band of the 8th Manchesters responded with a rendering of ‘Marching Through Georgia’ which, they later realised, depending on the make-up of the cruiser’s complement, might have been a slightly insensitive choice. However, everybody involved appeared delighted by the musical exchange and the Salford lads were buoyed by this unexpected reception.

Edward’s battalion was one of the first to disembark on to the dusty, bustling dockside. They were given no time, however, to wonder at this alien land as they helped to unload their equipment. Along with the Yeomanry, the Signal Company and the Transport and Supply column, they quickly boarded the train to Cairo then headed for the main barracks at Abbasia.

The heat in Cairo during the day was stifling and the British soldiers found it difficult to acclimatise. Although they were soon issued with khaki helmets for protection they still had to wear, initially, the heavy serge uniforms that they had been issued with in England. All the tropical gear had been put into the hold of just one ship in Southampton and it took some days before the lightweight uniforms finally arrived in Egypt.

Perhaps the most serious setback that they had, however, was the loss of many of the horses. The ships that had transported them were not designed for carrying large animals, nor were there enough trained men to look after them, and many of the horses had died during the trip from England. As they were the main way of moving men and equipment around, the death of so many was a severe hindrance to their operations.

***

He remembered how they had met as young teenagers when her family had moved into a house further down the street from where he lived. She had rebuked him for chasing a ball over her newly cleaned front steps. Her Irish born father had been a cloth fuller in Morley in Yorkshire but had lost his job. He had then made the fortuitous move to Salford and had found work there as a camel hair belt weaver.

The gentle, but tough, twelve year old that he used to taunt about her funny accent when she had first come to live in their street, had always seemed to him to be busy. She was the eldest, by five years, of six children and to Edward, who was the youngest of six, she seemed like a second mother in her family. She would often run errands to the shops on Ellor Street, using the opportunity for a quick kickabout with the boys. In the evenings she had looked after her younger siblings whilst her Mam prepared the tea before her Dad came home from the mill, but she had always been there with the lads when there was a bit of trouble with the gang from two streets away. On Saturday mornings he used to see Laura donkey stoning the front steps with dark cream in the centre and white stripes on the edges. She had thrown the cloth at him once when he had told her the lines weren’t straight.  Sometimes on Saturday afternoons, she would come with a few of her mates to join the rest of them for a bit of fishing in the Cut Canal. He’d tried to sneak a kiss off her on one occasion and she’d told him it was like kissing a fish.

She had always been there throughout his early teenage years, joining them as part of their group. As he had grown older he had walked out with a few of the other girls from around the Ellor Street area but it had somehow seemed inevitable that it would be the quiet but confident Laura from down the street that he would start courting.

Lying on his bed in the barracks, he was feeling the pain of separation from his wife more profoundly than that in his limbs from the afternoon’s rugby match. He ached to be near her. He remembered when her family had moved down to Myrtle Street and he hadn’t seen her for two weeks. He was shocked to find how many empty spaces were created in his life by her departure. He could still recall how nervous he had felt when he had finally plucked up the courage to knock on the door at her new house and ask her out.  

He heard the springs on a nearby bed protesting loudly as Big Charlie lunged at a large insect buzzing near his head. ‘Sod off, will you, and go and mither somebody else,’ he yelled at the offending creature.

By the time that he was twenty, Edward’s life had taken on a new pattern. Six mornings a week, he would walk down past the gas works to his job at the saw mills but each Sunday morning he would get up, polish his boots, put on his suit and best cap and take the short walk down Cross Lane to Laura’s. She would be dressed in her Sunday frock and bonnet and in the summer they would walk hand-in-hand over Windsor Bridge and into Peel Park for an afternoon of strolling, talking, laughing or just sitting quietly on the grass listening to the brass band playing. He smiled as he remembered the day that Laura and Liam’s girlfriend, Brigid, had linked arms and danced down the steps at the side of the museum singing ‘Burlington Bertie.’ They blushed and giggled with embarrassment when their efforts were loudly applauded by the crowd sitting on the hill at the side. On another occasion the girls had stepped into a group of brawling youths and, sternly waving their brollies at them, had instructed the boys to show proper respect for Sundays.

At other times, he and Laura would walk the big loop along Eccles New Road and up Langworthy Road, sneaking in at the back door of the Muirs’ house. There Sarah would treat them to a scone and a cup of tea. Afterwards, they would carry on up to the Height, where the toffs lived, before returning along Broad Street to Cross Lane. They would spend hours dreaming about living in one of those big houses and of even owning one of the strange motorised carriages that they used to see.

‘I can cope with those alright,’ Liam mused as he lay back on the thin mattress that covered the taut springs of his iron frame bed, watching a lizard scuttling up the white wall of the dormitory. It stopped briefly to check around before proceeding up to the crevice where the red tiled roof met the wall. ‘They do nobody any harm and they keep the flies down. Those beetles and scorpions though, they’re vicious little sods. They weigh you up to see how tasty you might be.’

‘Aye. It’s a bit of a shock when you find them in your kitbag eating your last bit of cake,’ Edward said, aiming a boot at a large unidentified creature that was progressing down the centre of the room.

‘I wouldn’t fancy waking up and finding one of those lizard things in my bed, though,’ reflected Big Charlie, lounging in a large wicker chair as he polished his equipment. ‘Never know where they might finish up.’