222537 Gnr. Frederick Hodgson British Army 71st Heavy Battery Royal Garrison Artillery from:Wheatcroft Road, Sandhill, Rawmarsh, Rotherham My grandfather Frederick Hodgson was born at Kilnurst, Swinton, near Rotherham on 2nd November 1892. As  youngster he had an accident with a horse and cart in Swinton, which resulted in him injuring a leg that reduced his mobility for the rest of his life. At the outbreak of WW1 he tried to enlist in the infantry with his pals, but due to his disability he has turned down. He persisted with his wish to serve his country and was finally accepted into the Royal Garrison Artillery as he had experience of working with pit ponies in the colliery in which he was employed. He joined the 150th Heavy Battery RGA which was raised in his home town of Rotherham in  October 1915. The Battery trained for 7 months in the UK before being sent to France, landing 17th June 1916 and opened fire for the first time at Neuvre Eglise, 29th June 1916.
At some time during his service in France he was transferred to the 71st Heavy Battery. Whilst with the 71st Heavies, he was captured by the Germans at Villers on the 30th November 1917. The story goes that after a heavy night of exhausting shelling, their position was over run in a major German advance. A German soldier apparently stood over Frederick and his gun crews dug out with a stick grenade. Thankfully the grenade wasn't thrown and the crew were all captured. Frederick eventually was transferred to a POW camp at Dulmen in Westphalia, Germany. When the Armistace was signed in November 1918, the gates to the prison camp were opened and as there was no transport available, Frederick and his fellow internees had to walk all the way to Antwerp in Belgium to get a ship home to England. As they walked through Germany they had to steal turnips out of the fields to eat as there was no other food available. He recalled that they were sworn and spat at by the German residents as they went along their way.
Frederick finally got home to Rotherham, went back to his pit ponies and married Mary Clarke in 1922. They had four boys and the third born was my father Russell Hodgson and I am his son Alyn Hodgson. I'm here now because the German soldier didn't throw his grenade, so I thank him for his humanity in not taking Frederick, my grand father's life.
Frederick never talked about his war and although he received his three medals for his service to his country, but he never wore them. They were thrown in a drawer at home and were lost over time. Frederick died on 1st March 1952 on his way home from a shift with his beloved ponies.
I never knew my grandad Frederick, as he died before I was born, but I wish I had. He was just a normal and humble young man doing his duty for this pals, his community and country. I'm proud of him and so thankful that he came out of there alive, so many didn't leaving tens of thousands grandchildren un-born.
|