William Bertrude Edwardson was born in November 1894. His father was from Malpas, and he was a cousin of John Hooley Edwardson. The family lived in Heywood near Manchaster, and there he spent his first 18 years, going to school before starting work as a bleacher nearby. It was a conventional start that belied the adventurous turn which was to come.

 

In 1912 William, bored with life in Manchester, left home and joined the Royal Marines, hungering to get more out of life. The gamble paid off—his photo from the time shows a tall, robust young man who likely thrived in the notoriously demanding world of the ‘bootnecks'.

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We can't be sure of this feelings upon the outbreak of war, but there was surely excitement mixed with trepidation. In 1915 he would find himself deployed to Gallipoli, part of the allies' famously ill-fated campaign to force a passage through the Dardanelles strait. He experienced the thick of the fighting, and some of his memoires, written in later life and preserved by his family, describe his horrifying experiences: 

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"One night going up to the firing line, I'm in the dug out being an observer to my Officer, we got a shell and it killed 18 Marines before we got to the firing line. They had snipers dressed up like small trees and when they saw anything moving they fired at it. I went over the top one night we got as far as the firing line...a soldier was brought in who badly wounded, he had been over the top and was blinded, lost his way and instead he was groping his way...each time he moved he was fired and he got riddled with bullets...he asked us who he was - we said Marines, he thanked us and died.

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On another occasion, as you looked through the periscope in front was a soldier and a Turk - they had charged one another, they had met with fixed bayonets and they remained dead stuck ton one another 'till the sun rotted them.

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...I got sun stroke and my temperature was 104 degrees, I could not stand and was delirious and was sent down to a dressing station. I lay on the floor...they started to shell us...(at this stage William's handwriting becomes a scrawl, likely due to the emotion of the memories)...another soldier had sun stroke and was in that much pain that he was hitting himself in the head with a brick. I laid in one corner and in agony, and all of a sudden a shell hit the tent, it blew me up and I felt that I had lost my limbs...I wanted to do myself in, soldiers dying around me...how I lived I will never know."

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William survived Gallipoli and the war; he served with the Royal Marines until 1920. Returning home to Lancashire, he married in 1922 and built a career as a medical orderly, becoming a Senior Charge Nurse. Like millions of others, he no doubt tried to leave the horrors of war behind.

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But war would come knocking once more. In 1939 William, a member of the Voluntary Reserve, found himself back in uniform manning Ack-Ack guns and search-lights. That was until 1942, when William was contacted by the Prime Minister's office. As both a battle-hardened ex-Marine and experienced senior nurse, he had been identified as an ideal bodyguard and orderly for Britain's Prime Minister, Winston Churchill, who was not in the best of health. William accepted and served in this capacity for the rest of the war.

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It must have been a fascinating window into the inner working of Allied leadership, as well as a great deal of responsibility. William left a few reminiscences of this time:

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"I have written about the English Gentleman I had the honour to serve for 3 years from 1942 to 1945. That was the late Sir Winston Churchill...duties being in the Cabinet war Rooms underground. 

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Down below were about 20 Marines and all had different duties - we was the only ratings (ordinary soldiers) to sleep down below beside Sir Winston, his wife and daughters and General Hastings Ismay, Churchill's wartime Chief of Staff....Behind him were fire buckets for his cigar butts which he tossed away without looking over this shoulder...he said 'If an invasion comes this is where I sit until the Germans are driven back or they carry me out dead.'

'Sir Winston at one time had a serious illness and was warned by the doctor not to walk up the stairs - myself and two Marines ahd to carry him in a wheelchair...He was about 15 stone, and by the time you got to the top your breath had gone.

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One time incendiary bombs were dropped on us making fires all around. We went out putting them out with sand bags and he (Mr Churchill) was with us. When raids were on he would go on the roof...and watch what was going on.

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I used to think, if I was Mr Churchill I would be in bed, but the time I was with him it was his country that came first and that is what I admired him for...tom me he was a fine English gentleman, I know he has been criticised but seeing is believing."

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After the war, William returned to Lancashire once more, done with adventure for good, and resumed his nursing career until retirement. He exchanged Christmas cards with Churchill until the latter's death in 1965.

 

William Bertrude Edwardson lived out his days in Whalley, Lancashire, at the northern edge of the traditional Edwardson heartland. He died in 1979. His memoirs reveal a modest man—reserved in speech, yet possessed of a quiet gravity and resolution of opinion. He seems to have shunned any publicity which might have resulted from his service. Nonetheless, his story is told here with pride, and respect.

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With thanks to Derek Glen, who recorded William's story and transcribed some of Williams surviving memoires.