This blog post is going to go off track, for a very good reason. It is dedicated to my grandfather, Harold Joseph Norris, who fought in World War 1. Up until now I have been writing about my mother’s paternal side of my family. I will be revisiting my father’s side of the family in greater detail in the future, but for now I want to briefly tell my Grandfather’s story. The information for this is from my uncle’s book about the Norris family, Our Father, a Prodigal Son, by Rev, J.D. Norris.
Google Earth view of 44 Walker Street, Hoylake. This is my grandfather’s childhood home
Screenshot of the Google Earth view of Harold’s childhood home in Hoylake (on the left-hand side of the road – 44 Walker St. is where the white car is. This building is likely to be the same building due to its age).
Harold Joseph Norris was born in Cheshire, England, on 6th March 1896. He lived at 44 Walker Street, Hoylake, a village on the cost near West Kirby, known for its golf-links and promenade. It is about 8 miles from Liverpool. At the age of 18, in 1914, he enlisted in the 18th Kings Liverpool Regiment as Private 16471. 100 years ago, in November 1915, he had completed his basic training and was on his way to war, sailing from Southhampton to France.
The Cover of my uncle’s book showing Harold Norris in his army uniform, 1914
He endured lice, filth and general misery in the trenches at Somme, until June 1916 when they were hit by heavy artillery, shell dumps and bombardment night and day. On 30th June they were moved up the line for going over next morning – very few of that first wave reached their objective with 75% of their battalion losing their lives in that first Somme battle.
Harold was transferred to Battalion transport and given charge of two mules in a limber wagon. His work consisted of transporting ammunition and food rations as close to the front line as possible under cover of darkness. After a short spell behind the lines, they returned to the front line for the second battle of the Somme, at Dickebush near Ypres. Many of his comrades lost their lives here because they were so close to the enemy lines.
In March 1918 they moved through Abbeville, to face bombardment from German forces. Many of the English battalions were severely diminished in size so Harold’s remaining regiment joined with the 13th Kings Liverpool Regiment. They engaged with the enemy at Maubeuge, close to the French – Belgium border. After moving again up to the frontline, they were suddenly ordered to about turn. A colonel rode up on his horse and announced that the war was over, to their surprise and delight, after nearly five years of continual misery, hardship, tension and grief.
They trekked through Namur, Liege and Aix-la-chapelle, finally arriving in Kerpen, a suburb of Cologne, for the occupation of Germany. Harold was billeted with a German family. It wasn’t until February 1919 that he boarded a train from Cologne to Boulogne, en route to London and home, to be finally discharged from the Army. He received 25 pounds for 5 years’ service.
I have been able to research his war records and he discovered that he received 3 medals: The 1914-15 Star, the Victory Medal and the British War Medal. I don’t know what became of the original medals but I plan to order replicas and frame them in his memory.
The 1914 Star or 1914-15 Star, British War Medal and Victory Medal. These are the medals Harold received after WW1
Harold emigrated to New Zealand in 1921 on the Waimana. The British Government were offering a free passage to any of the colonies in the Commonwealth to returned soldiers who could pass a medical examination. Because the prospects in England weren’t to hopeful for him, he decided to go to New Zealand. He met and married my grandmother Louisa, who had descended from Polish and German immigrants, and they had nine children including my father Cyril.
Grandad passed away in 1968 when I was 2 1/2years old. My memory of him in the front room of his house in Rotorua is probably my earliest memory. He was very tall with a moustache which was popular in those times. I have so much respect for him and all the other WW1 allies who fought for our freedom, and if he hadn’t survived the war, many descendants would not be here today.
Harold Norris in February 1968. six months before he passed away
This is Who we Are 