Fast and Furious – One Hundred Years on and Still a Hero

22/02/2018  -  12.38

David Morris

My grandfather, Arthur Clarence Morris, was born in the district of Chesterfield on 11 April 1898. Apart from a few old family photos and some notes on the family tree which were compiled by my father’s cousin, I don’t know much about my grandad’s family. He was one of ten children and grew up in King Street, Whittington Moor, about two miles north of Chesterfield town centre. Although he was christened Arthur Clarence, he was known to his family and friends as Clarry. When the First World War broke out on 28 July 1914, Clarry was 16 and would probably have already been in work for four years given that the school leaving age back then was 12, before it was raised to 14 in 1918.

Conscription to fight in the war started on 2 March 1916, and with Clarry turning 18 the following month, he signed up with the Royal Navy Air Service [RNAS]. In some ways, Clarry inadvertently became part of naval and air force history as he was conscripted to join the crew of HMS Furious, the world’s first aircraft carrier. HMS Furious was in fact a modified battle cruiser and during its construction between 1915 – 1916, it was redesigned to become an aircraft carrier and was launched in August 1916. The value of aircraft carrying ships in naval combat was now recognised and the conversion of Furious – which involved the removal of two canons to make way for the runway strip – mean that it had the speed to keep up with other battle ships.

One exciting event that Clarry witnessed, was on 2 August 1917, when Squadron Commander Edwin Dunning landed his aeroplane – a Sopwith Pup – on the sixty-nine-metre flight deck of the Furious – the first ever landing of an aircraft on a moving warship. Not all landings were successful and Commander Dunning drowned as a result of a failed landing attempt – something Clarry would also have probably seen. Modifications were made, and the flight deck was widened and lengthened. During 1918, in this new and revised incarnation, HMS Furious was involved in successfully bombing and destroying German airships in southern Denmark. You can watch footage of planes landing on the ship here where ramps were used to slow the planes down.

Clarry survived the war, and when it ended on 11 November 1918, he would have been 20 years old. Whilst he was in the RNAS he was, remarkably, enrolled in distance learning courses and on return to civilian life he found work as a fitter at Sheepbridge Engineering Ltd. Based in Chesterfield, Sheepbridge were involved in the manufacturer of mining equipment, aircraft and car components, machinery and castings. In October 1926, when Clarry was 28 he married Lily Orwin. Interestingly enough, Lily’s father was a coal miner, so it is possible Sheepbridge supplied Lily’s father’s mine with equipment and machinery. Lily was born in the same year as Clarry although she was eight months younger than him and worked as a primary school teacher. By birth, they were both working class and rented their semi-detached house at 68 Salisbury Crescent, Chesterfield.

I never knew my grandmother – or at least have no recollection of meeting her – as I was only 4 years-old when she died from pneumonia and dementia in July 1966. I do remember Clarry very well though, and their house in Chesterfield. In his spare time, Clarry enjoyed watching horse racing and probably also enjoyed the occasional beer as well as a flutter on the horses. I also remember being told by my father that in his thirties, Clarry got fed up with regular dental treatment and had all his teeth removed and replaced with false ones. During my childhood, I remember the visits to Chesterfield and also the visits he made to us in Essex up to when I was 13 when Clarry passed away from a stroke in 1974 aged 76.

Growing up, Clarry used to tell my brother and I stories about being on the HMS Furious and he used to describe how he and the crew often evaded death. He told us about the German submarine attacks and how he would stand at the stern of the ship and watch as the torpedoes would sail by narrowly missing the vessel by a foot or two. He explained that the Germans underestimated the speed of Furious given that it was carrying aircraft, but was in fact a converted battle cruiser and could travel at a speed of up to 31 knots (approximately 36 mph). He said he didn’t feel the danger at the time, but was just excited they had outsmarted the enemy.

Clarry and Lily only had one child – my father – and I was struck by how different my father was from Clarry. Clarry loved anything to do with machines and engineering yet my father was the opposite and very academic. Coming from a working-class home, my father had done well at school and went to Cambridge to study modern foreign languages. Perhaps being influenced by his mother, my dad went on to work in education and had a successful career and was made a Commander of the British Empire in 1988. He was proud to receive such a high accolade. However, he rarely talked about his father’s achievements in the war, and so the only knowledge of Clarry’s wartime experiences came from Clarry himself.

It was only after my parents died, and when I was going through their belongings, that I came across documents and artefacts about, or belonging to Clarry. Amongst these, I found his First World War dog tag but I didn’t know what it was at first and only realised after polishing it up. At first, I assumed that the number on the tag – 147 – was his unique number. Later on, however, I discovered that the number “47” is the pennant ID number for the HMS Furious, although I still don’t know what the number “1” stands for or represents. I also came across his tools and was reminded about his love of engineering. It also brought back memories of my brother and I being with Clarry around the age of eight. He spent a long time explaining how cam shafts and pistons worked. At that age, I wasn’t particularly interested in those things, and perhaps it is only later in life that I appreciate the time Clarry spent with us, telling us about his interests and his war time experiences. I recently posted his dog tag on Instagram and was warmed by the heart-felt responses – almost one hundred years later to commemorate and praise a young war hero.

Biography

Throughout his professional career, David Morris has had a wide range of work experiences and has held a variety of posts. These include working as a Syrup Room Operative for Britvic soft drinks PLC; working as a record promoter and press officer in the music industry; teaching children technology in every year group from Nursery to Applied GCSE as well as training teachers and working in Initial Teacher Education. David is also a self-taught artist and has his paintings in the private collections of Sade the soul diva, John Connolly the Irish crime writer and Australian Jazz legend, Vince Jones. He divides his time between the south of France and London.