Additions will be checked before being published on the website and where possible will be forwarded to the person who submitted the original entries. Your contact details will not be forwarded, but they can send a reply via this messaging system.
please scroll down to send a message
Pte. Abner Edwin Sanders
British Army 1st Battalion Northumberland Fusiliers
from:Belper, Milford, Derbyshire
(d.1st Nov 1914)
Private Abner E Sanders served with 1st Battalion Northumberland Fusiliers in 8th Brigade, 3rd Division. He had enlisted on Tuesday 23rd Feb 1904 at Normanton Barracks, Derby. (serving 7 years with colours, 5 years in reserve) He embarked from Southampton on 13th August 1914
On Wednesday 14th October 1914, Abner was hot in the side of the head during battle of La Bassee around Bout del Ville (Rue Mathieu). On Sunday 1st November 1914, he died of wounds at The Connaught Military Hospital, Aldershot and was buried in the Aldershot Military Cemetery. He is commemorated at Alfreton War Memorial, Milford War Memorial, St Peters Marble Memorial Belper.
One of Private Sander’s comrades, who was also wounded on the same day, 157 Private Alexander MacLaren, who served in “Z†Company (the 1st Battalion, The Northumberland Fusiliers titled their companies “Wâ€, “Xâ€, “Y†and “Z†instead of the usual A-D), was interviewed by the Dundee Courier on 11 December 1914:
Philosophic Dundee soldier wounded in fighting near la bassee, tells how his battalion fell into terrible trap:
“The British soldier is a practical philosopher. He does not bemoan the fact that Giant Circumstances thrust him into the midst of death and horror. He thanks God if he is permitted to escape with his life, even though he is severely wounded.
It is in this spirit of determinedly desiring to look on the bright side of things that Private Alexander M’Laren has paid a flying visit to his mother, who lives at 3 Annfield Street, Dundee. Private M’Laren is a Northumberland Fusilier, and he is recovering from a nasty bullet wound in his leg. Although a native of Dundee, his home is in Glasgow, and last night he paid his mother a visit before going back to the trenches.
He gave the “Courier†a graphic account of how he came by his wound with the Fighting Fifth: It happened on 14th October in the La Bassee district. I am of D (sic - "Z") Company of the 1st Northumberland Fusiliers, ‘The Fighting Fifth,’ and on that day we were advancing over fielded country. While crossing a turnip field we were made the targets of a number of German snipers in a village just at hand. The men were falling a trifle too plentifully to please the powers that be, and we were ordered to take that village. We advanced in skirmishing order until we were held up by a deep ditch. It was more like a canal. Luckily, it was spanned by a narrow bridge, and we closed up and made for the crossing. Safely over, we passed through a narrow gate, and continued our advance in open order, little thinking how dear that crossing was to cost us.
We took the village we set out to capture, but while we were giving these snipers their quietus it seemed that an enemy force of considerable size had come up, for the Gordons and Seaforths (sic - ), who were on our right, retired. That meant that we also were forced to turn back.
All went well as could be expected until we came to a narrow bridge, and then we discovered we were in a terrible trap. The German gunners trained their pieces on the narrow passage, and they proved to us, as never before, how deadly their aim is. Of every three of us who made for that gate two were brought down. Had we made a rush for the little crossing in a wild bunch not one of us wuld (sic) have escaped alive.
But we retained our presence of mind, and, taking advantage of the regularity of the shell fire, a man would make a rush between the shots. Some succeeded; many did not. I was one of the lucky ones. I made a dash for the gate, but fell over a poor chap’s body. The delay proved fatal. A shell nabbed me. I was wounded in the leg, but I succeeded in getting through the gap and across the bridge, thanking God that I had got off so lightly. There’s no knowing how many men we lost there.â€
