Special Collections

Sold on 6 July 2004

1 part

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Medals From The Collection of Hal Giblin

Hal Giblin

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Lot

№ 434

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6 July 2004

Hammer Price:
£400

Three: Second Lieutenant T. S. Newell, 2nd Battalion, Cheshire Regiment, who died of wounds on 5 July 1915

1914-15 Star (2. Lieut., Ches. R.); British War and Victory Medals (2. Lieut.) extremely fine (3) £300-350

This lot was sold as part of a special collection, Medals From The Collection of Hal Giblin.

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The following is extracted from The Liverpool Scroll of Fame, which book includes a fine portrait photograph of recipient:

‘Second Lieutenant Thomas Stanley Newell, who fell in 1915, was the second son of Mr T. M. Newell, Chief Engineer of the Mersey Docks and Harbour Board. From his father he had inherited a talent for engineering, and he showed it very definitely when between the years 1906 to 1914 he was a student at the well known Oundle School, Northamptonshire.

On attaining his nineteenth birthday he applied for a commission. He was gazetted to the 3rd Cheshires on October 5th, 1914, and trained with them until March 15th, 1915, when he was drafted to France, and attached to the 2nd Battalion at Ypres. He speedily received his baptism of fire, for at that time the smallness of our armies made it necessary to send reinforcements direct to the front line almost as soon as they arrived.

In his cheerful letters to his parents at Westwood, Noctorum, he gave crisply-phrased pen-pictures of his experiences, and it may be well to quote from one dated the 28th of April 1915. “I have just returned from a very big battle in the open, “ he wrote. “The Cheshires and Northumberlands have received special praise from one high authority. We saved the situation till the reinforcements came. We were attacked by 6,000 Germans. We got into a trench about three feet deep, and as soon as daylight broke they shelled the place continually all morning. The shells came from all sides. The fire slackened in the afternoon, and then about four o’clock we had to get out of the ditch and hold the road. We dug ourselves in over night, and at dawn on Monday morning they came for us. We held on as long as we could, and then retired in good order, stopping at every hedge and firing at them. We at last arrived at our main line of defence.”

... Late in June he was entitled to leave, but in view of the shortage of officers he declined to take it. Then on July 3rd he was on special duty with a working party in advance of our lines, and by an ill-chance he was severely wounded. “I think this is a ticket for Blighty Sergeant,” he exclaimed light-heartedly as he would - but it was far more serious than he imagined. He died two days later in hospital.’