THE PALS BATTALIONS

BELATED RECOGNITION

It was a cold, wet day (another way of saying: “Chorley”) when, shortly before heading for France, I visited the town’s Flat Iron market square. This is now overseen by a fine statue of a soldiering Pal, 30 per cent bigger than life size, rifle across the chest, the whole heavy with dutiful determination. On the plinth are inscribed the names of all 225 Chorley Pals. The memorial was unveiled in 2010 – belated recognition that the town had men to be proud of – following a campaign by local historians John Garwood and Steve Williams, and MP Lindsay Hoyle. They’d worried at the subject for ages; it’s a subject worth the worrying.

Pals battalions were a response to Kitchener’s 1914 call for volunteers. The chance to serve, train and fight together with your mates was considered, rightly, an aid to recruitment. “No one mentioned the dying together,” said Williams, a retired marketing man. Pals’ outfits weren’t all from northern England. The first was raised in the City, the Stockbrokers Battalion. Another comprised players, staff and supporters of Heart-ofMidlothian FC. But, as 50 or more towns recruited their own battalions, so Accrington formed its Pals, (formally: the 11th [Service] Battalion, East Lancs Regiment) with companies from Accrington itself, Blackburn, Burnley – and ‘Y’ company from Chorley.

The Chorley Pals memorial was unveiled in 2010 after a campaign