Identities of British Korean War Casualties Confirmed After 70 Years, Offering Families Closure

Michael Northey, seated in his wheelchair, silently observes his father’s burial site, placing a flower there for the initial occasion. He remarks with poignant humor, “This is the closest I’ve been to him in 70 years, which is ridiculous.” Michael was an infant, having been born into an impoverished family residing in Portsmouth’s backstreets, when his father, the youngest among 13 siblings, departed to serve in the Korean War. His father died during combat, and his remains were never identified. For many decades, his body rested in an unmarked plot within the UN cemetery in Busan, situated on Korea’s southern coast, marked by a plaque stating ‘Member of the British Army, known unto God’. Currently, the grave displays his identity: Sergeant D. Northey, who passed away on 24 April 1951, at 23 years old. Sergeant Northey, alongside three additional individuals, represents the initial group of unidentified British soldiers from the Korean War whose identities have been successfully confirmed. Michael is present at a commemorative event, joined by other relatives, to formally rename their burial sites. Michael had dedicated years to conducting personal investigations, seeking to locate his father’s burial place, but had ultimately abandoned his efforts. He stated, “I’m ill and don’t have a lot of time left myself, so I’d written it off. I thought I’d never find out.” However, a few months prior, Michael received a telephone call. Unbeknownst to him, investigators at the Ministry of Defence had been carrying out their own inquiry. Upon learning the information, he “wailed like a banshee for 20 minutes.” Smiling, he expressed, “I can’t describe the emotional release.” He added, “This had haunted me for 70 years. The poor lady who phoned me, I felt sorry for her!” The caller was Nicola Nash, a forensic researcher affiliated with the Joint Casualty and Compassionate Centre in Gloucester, whose usual work involves identifying casualties from the First and Second World Wars. Assigned for the initial time to locate those who perished in the Korean War, she commenced her efforts from the beginning, initially by assembling a roster of the 300 British soldiers still unaccounted for, with 76 of them interred in the Busan cemetery. Nicola examined their interment records and discovered that only one individual had been buried with sergeant stripes from the Gloucester Regiment, in addition to one major. Following an extensive search through national archives and the cross-referencing of eyewitness testimonies, family correspondence, and war office documents, Ms Nash successfully identified these individuals as Sergeant Northey and Major Patrick Angier. Both men lost their lives during the renowned Battle of Imjin River in April 1951, when the Chinese Army, having entered the conflict on the North Korean side, attempted to force allied troops southward on the peninsula to recapture the capital, Seoul. Despite facing overwhelming odds, the soldiers maintained their ground for three days, allowing their fellow service members sufficient time to withdraw and successfully protect the city. Ms Nash clarified that the challenge at that period stemmed from the extreme brutality of the battle, which resulted in most of the men being either killed or taken prisoner, leaving no one available to identify them. The opposing forces had taken and dispersed their dog tags. It was only after the release of prisoners of war that they could recount their experiences of the battle. No one had previously considered revisiting and assembling these fragmented details – until the present. Ms Nash described this endeavor as a six-year “labour of love,” acknowledging that the presence of some of the soldiers’ surviving children, available for consultation, made the task somewhat less difficult, while also imbuing the process with greater significance. She stated, “The children have spent their whole lives not knowing what happened to their fathers, and for me to be able to do this work and bring them here to their graves, to say their goodbyes and have that closure, means everything.” During the ceremony, the relatives occupied chairs among the extensive lines of modest stone graves commemorating the thousands of international soldiers who participated in and perished during the Korean War. They were joined by active-duty soldiers from the former regiments of their deceased family members. Tabby, Major Angier’s daughter, now 77 years old, and his grandson Guy, rose to recite passages from letters he composed while on the front line. In one of his concluding letters, he communicated to his wife: “Lots of love to our dear children. Do tell them how much Daddy misses them and will come back as soon as he has finished his work.” Tabby was three years old when her father departed for the war, and her recollections of him are fragmented. She recalled, “I can remember someone standing in a room and canvas bags piling up, which must have been his equipment to go to Korea. But I can’t see his face.” Tabby noted that at the period of her father’s passing, discussions about wars were generally avoided. Instead, residents in her small Gloucestershire village would comment: “Oh, those poor children, they’ve lost their father.” Tabby stated, “I used to think that if he’s lost, they’re going to find him.” Nevertheless, as time progressed and she became aware of the circumstances, Tabby was informed that her father’s remains would never be recovered. The final documentation regarding his location indicated his body had been left beneath an overturned boat on the combat zone. Tabby had previously visited the Busan cemetery on two occasions, seeking to feel as near to her father as she believed feasible, unaware that his actual grave had been there the entire time. From his recently marked graveside, she commented, “I think it will take some time to sink in.” The revelation proved even more impactful for 25-year-old Cameron Adair, hailing from Scunthorpe, whose great-great uncle, Corporal William Adair, is one of two Royal Ulster Rifles soldiers identified by Ms Nash. The second individual is Rifleman Mark Foster, from County Durham. Both soldiers died in January 1951 while being compelled to withdraw by a Chinese soldier platoon. Corporal Adair had no offspring, and with the passing of his wife, his memory faded, resulting in Cameron and his family being oblivious to his existence. Discovering that his relative “helped bring freedom to so many people” has instilled in Cameron “a real sense of pride,” he stated. He added, “Coming here and witnessing this firsthand has really brought it home.” Now approximately the same age as his uncle at the time of his death, Cameron expressed feeling motivated and indicated a willingness to serve if circumstances required it. Ms Nash is currently collecting DNA samples from the family members of the remaining 300 unaccounted-for soldiers, with the aspiration of providing additional families with the same sense of peace and happiness she has delivered to Cameron, Tabby, and Michael. She affirmed, “If there are still British personnel missing, we will keep trying to find them.” Copyright 2024 BBC. All rights reserved. The BBC bears no responsibility for the material on external websites. Information regarding our policy on external links is available.