Thomas Pritchard was a quiet and reserved man in later life – perhaps even a bit aloof at times. He lived in a little cottage on the Kent coast with his wife, with regular visits from his children and grandchildren.
“I think the general consensus was that he was a bit grumpy,” says his great granddaughter, Linda Bennett. “He would hand out sweets from a tin, but would spend most of his time in a chair that no one else was allowed to sit in, rarely saying a word.”
Linda never got to meet Thomas, but when she started digging into his background, she was surprised to discover the life her great grandfather had led. His conventional, suburban existence concealed a remarkable story that was as heroic as it was tragic.
Born in Ramsgate in 1894, Thomas first experienced loss when he was nine years old, with the death of his mother, Maria. Shortly afterwards, his father – also named Thomas – married Maria’s sister, Louisa.
“It must have been hard to come to terms with,” explains Linda. “In fact, I don’t think it was legal to marry your dead wife’s sister until 1907!”
Over the coming years, Thomas suffered further upheavals. When he was 13, his sister died in a lunatic asylum. Thomas senior passed away four years later, and, unable to cope, Louisa then sent Thomas’ younger brother to the Fegan’s Boys’ Home in Ramsgate, from where he was sent to Canada as one of the British Home Children.
“By the time he was 18 – the same age my eldest son is now – Thomas had lost so many people close to him. I can’t imagine what that would have been like.”
Seeking stability, Thomas joined the Royal Navy in 1913, with little idea of the global catastrophe around the corner. By the time war arrived, he was employed as a stoker, shovelling coal deep inside the heart of ships.
But a pivotal moment came while serving on board the HMS Nomad during the Battle of Jutland in the First World War. Shortly after 4pm on 31 May 1916, the ship was struck by a shell in the engine room, where Thomas was working.
Following an attempt at retaliation, the Nomad was hit by a devastating torpedo attack, catapulting Thomas from the burning vessel into the freezing North Sea. After several hours in the water, he was hauled into a German boat and taken as a prisoner of war.
“When Thomas was repatriated in December 1918, he was interviewed by the East Kent Times,” explains Linda. “He describes how the Germans ‘utterly failed in their endeavour to break down the confidence of their captives’, adding that the ‘Englishmen flatly refused to believe any of the frequent stories about the surrender of the Allied forces’.”
However, despite his impressive resilience, Thomas had clearly been affected by his experiences. Almost skeletal and suffering stomach problems due to having “chewed on leather belts”, he was discharged from the Royal Navy with neurasthenia, which would probably be diagnosed as post-traumatic stress disorder today.
“According to my mother, he suffered from terrible nerves and anxiety, and also had nightmares. He never once talked about the war.”
As a civilian, Thomas took on a variety of jobs to provide for his wife and children, including stints as a dairyman in Uttoxeter and a deckchair attendant in Ramsgate. But it is this life of contrasts – the mixture of the mundane and the extraordinary – that fascinates Linda.
While Thomas was one of the many men who lived through the horrors of war, researching his story puts it into context.
“I think he was incredible. He probably thought he was only doing his job, but to go through all the things he did and just get on with life afterwards is remarkable in itself. That’s my idea of a hero.”
