General Chat

we must never forget! bryan.

My Dear Dad,Under age in 1916, Gassed three times in ww1 ,bayoneted and blinded for 3 months. Joined up over age in 1939 and cooked for 'his Boys' in the R.A Thanks to Our Merchant Navy old boys here who are still suffering from Traumas and ill health from ww11 Jay

I cannot ever begin to imagine the horrors many of these men witnessed/endured, we owe them so much!

remembering those that gave their lives, and those left behind with nothing but memories. At the going down of the sun, and in the morning we WILL remember them

Remembering the following : My Uncle Frank William Poyner - Armed Forces - Burma WW2 Passed away 11th November 1978 aged 63. My Great Uncle Charles Christopher Hood Lance Corporal 17785 Died 05/12/1917 aged 33 (Duke of Cornwall's Light Infantry United Kingdom) Buried France P. V. I. 7A. ST. SEVER CEMETERY . Charles Struggles of Sheffield born 1885 Private 202317 Died 03/05/1917 aged 32 (King's Own Yorkshire Light Infantry United Kingdom) Buried CROISILLES BRITISH CEMETERY And all Men Women and children who have died in the World's conflicts. God bless you all David.

13021501 Pte James Stanley RHODES Royal Berkshire Regiment, died aged 28 on 26 Apr 44 at Kohima where he rests. He never returned with the doll he had promised Cynthia. Here dead we lie, because we did not choose to live and shame the land from which we sprung. Life to be sure is nothing much to lose, but young men think it is, and we were young.

I would like to remember and give special thanks to my Great Grandfather Arthur Curzon Howe who fought and survived the Boer War and WW1. I have gained alot of info about his life and for this I am truly grateful. RIP Great Grandad Howe (6/4/1880 - 15/6/1938)! Luv Fi

My great uncle Elijah James Baber 07/07/1917 in France My aunts first husband Rowland Totham 17/05/1945 in Singapore and to all who gave their lives.

Killed in World War I Brothers (my great-uncles) Private Frederick Rolland Billing, No 2 Company, NZ Machine Gun Corps 16 November 1916 aged 20 - France. Lance Corporal Ernest Alfred Billing, 1st Bn., Wellington Regiment, NZEF 12 April 1918 aged 27 - France. Their brother-in-law (a great-uncle) Private Harold Smith, 2nd Bn, Otago Regiment, NZEF 24 December 1917 aged 21 - Belgium. Killed in World War II (mother's cousin) Warrant Officer Ronald Gordon Dawson 141 (RAF) Sqdn, RNZAF 19 April 1945 aged 24 - Germany LEST WE FORGET

My husband's grandfather, Joseph Spiller Seldon MM, 2nd Bttn Devonshire Regt, died 24 April 1918, Somme, aged 32, leaving a young widow with two small boys aged 6 and 4. His half brother, John Boutcher Seldon, 1st Bttn Royal Welsh Fusiliers died 20 October 1914 aged 20 and commemorated on the Menin Gate memorial. My great uncle Edward Charles Lloyd Key MM and Bar, 15th Bttn Canadian Infantry, Central Ontario Regt, died 28 September 1918 aged 20. Also both my grandfathers, William Roy Kilpatrick, Canadian Expeditionary Force, and Harry G Tivers, who thankfully came home. My Dad's best friend, Flight Sargeant William (Lindy) Linwood, Royal Canadian Air Force, shot down 30 June 1942 aged 20 and commemorated on the Runnymede Memorial. Lest we forget. Sue xx

Some information about Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918) Canadian Army- who wrote ''In Flanders Fields'' IN FLANDERS FIELDS the poppies blow Between the crosses row on row, That mark our place; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below. We are the Dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved and were loved, and now we lie In Flanders fields. Take up our quarrel with the foe: To you from failing hands we throw The torch; be yours to hold it high. If ye break faith with us who die We shall not sleep, though poppies grow In Flanders fields. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- McCrae's 'In Flanders Fields' remains to this day one of the most memorable war poems ever written. It is a lasting legacy of the terrible battle in the Ypres salient in the spring of 1915. Here is the story of the making of that poem: Although he had been a doctor for years and had served in the South African War, it was impossible to get used to the suffering, the screams, and the blood here, and Major John McCrae had seen and heard enough in his dressing station to last him a lifetime. As a surgeon attached to the 1st Field Artillery Brigade, Major McCrae, who had joined the McGill faculty in 1900 after graduating from the University of Toronto, had spent seventeen days treating injured men -- Canadians, British, Indians, French, and Germans -- in the Ypres salient. It had been an ordeal that he had hardly thought possible. McCrae later wrote of it: 'I wish I could embody on paper some of the varied sensations of that seventeen days... Seventeen days of Hades! At the end of the first day if anyone had told us we had to spend seventeen days there, we would have folded our hands and said it could not have been done.' One death particularly affected McCrae. A young friend and former student, Lieut. Alexis Helmer of Ottawa, had been killed by a shell burst on 2 May 1915. Lieutenant Helmer was buried later that day in the little cemetery outside McCrae's dressing station, and McCrae had performed the funeral ceremony in the absence of the chaplain. The next day, sitting on the back of an ambulance parked near the dressing station beside the Canal de l'Yser, just a few hundred yards north of Ypres, McCrae vented his anguish by composing a poem. The major was no stranger to writing, having authored several medical texts besides dabbling in poetry. In the nearby cemetery, McCrae could see the wild poppies that sprang up in the ditches in that part of Europe, and he spent twenty minutes of precious rest time scribbling fifteen lines of verse in a notebook. A young soldier watched him write it. Cyril Allinson, a twenty-two year old sergeant-major, was delivering mail that day when he spotted McCrae. The major looked up as Allinson approached, then went on writing while the sergeant-major stood there quietly. 'His face was very tired but calm as we wrote,' Allinson recalled. 'He looked around from time to time, his eyes straying to Helmer's grave.' When McCrae finished five minutes later, he took his mail from Allinson and, without saying a word, handed his pad to the young NCO. Allinson was moved by what he read: 'The poem was exactly an exact description of the scene in front of us both. He used the word blow in that line because the poppies actually were being blown that morning by a gentle east wind. It never occurred to me at that time that it would ever be published. It seemed to me just an exact description of the scene.' In fact, it was very nearly not published. Dissatisfied with it, McCrae tossed the poem away, but a fellow officer retrieved it and sent it to newspapers in England. The Spectator, in London, rejected it, but Punch published it on 8 December 1915.

In memory of my Great Uncle Private Frederick George FRESHWATER 49th Battalion, Machine Gun Corps who died on Friday, 11 October 1918 aged 19, killed by a sniper's bullet in France. Uncle Fred, With thanks to you and your comrades for the sacrifices you made to ensure that England remained a beautiful and free land. Your memory lives on in the family. Dee x

Grandad Thomas Edwin Goldstraw - Royal Welch Fusiliers Great Grandad Frederick Martyn Saunders - Sherwood Foresters Great Uncle Alfred Saunders - Royal Navy Not forgetting all the men who served and gave of themselves for our peace and freedom. God Bless you all.

Great-uncle Dick: Pte Arthur George Harrison, MGC killed in action 20 May 1918 commemorated on the Ploegsteert Memorial. ..................................................................... Joy

With deepest respect and gratitude. Sue

To all that lost their lives, so that we could have a future. To those that did not lose their life but are still suffering mentally or physically or both. To the many families that suffered as a consequence. I will be thinking of them all. Jill xx

My Great Grandfather William Moran killed in action at the battle of the Somme on August 16th 1916. Davex

Two Sides of War (All Wars)

'All wars are planned by older men
In council rooms apart,
Who call for greater armament
And map the battle chart.

But out along the shattered field
Where golden dreams turn gray,
How very young the faces were
Where all the dead men lay.

Portly and solemn in their pride,
The elders cast their vote
For this or that, or something else,
That sounds the martial note.

But where their sightless eyes stare out
Beyond life's vanished toys,
I've noticed nearly all the dead
Were hardly more than boys.'

~Grantland Rice

My father's cousins who he waved off to war when he was a child -

John Edward Brittain - Lance Corporal. 43152 7th Bn Suffolk Regiment died October 12, 1916 commemorated on the Thiepval Memorial and in Lowestoft Parish Church

Charles Alfred Brittain - Private 43167 11th Btn Suffolk Regiment, cyclists died March 22, 1918, commemorated on the Arras Memorial, Pas de Calais and in Lowestoft Parish Church

Green Fields of France - Eric Bogle

Well, how do you do young Willie McBride?
Do you mind if I sit hear down by your graveside,
And rest for a while neath the warm summer sun.
I've been working all day and I'm nearly done.
I can see by your gravestone you were only nineteen
when you joined the great fallen in nineteen sixteen.
Well I hope you died quick, and I hope you died clean,
Oh Willie McBride, was it slow and obscene?

Chorus:
Did they beat the drum slowly, did they play the fife lowly,
did they sound the death march, as they lowered you down?
Did the bands play the last post and chorus?
Did the pipes play the flowers of the forest?

And did you leave a wife or sweetheart behind
In some faithful heart is your memory enshrined,
Although you died back in nineteen sixteen
In some faithful heart are you forever nineteen?
Or are you a stranger without even a name
Enclosed now forever behind a glass frame
In an old photograph torn, battered and stained
And faded to yellow in a brown leather frame.

Chorus:
Did they beat the drum slowly, did they play the fife lowly,
did they sound the death march, as they lowered you down?
Did the bands play the last post and chorus?
Did the pipes play the flowers of the forest?
:

Now see how the sun shines o'er the green field of France
There's a warm summer breeze makes the red poppies dance,
And see how the sun shines from under the clouds
There's no gas or barbed wire, there's no guns firing now.
But here in this graveyard it's still no-man's land
The countless white crosses in mute witness stand
To man's blind difference to his fellow man
To a whole generation who were butchered and damned.

Chorus:
Did they beat the drum slowly, did they play the fife lowly,
did they sound the death march, as they lowered you down?
Did the bands play the last post and chorus?
Did the pipes play the flowers of the forest?

Now young Willie McBride, I can't help wonder why
Do all those who lie here know why did they die.
And did they believe when they answered the call
Did they really believe that this war would end wars.
Well the sorrow, the suffering, the glory the pain,
The killing, the dying they were all done in vain
For young Willie McBride it all happened again
And again and again and again and again.

Chorus:
Did they beat the drum slowly, did they play the fife lowly,
did they sound the death march, as they lowered you down?
Did the bands play the last post and chorus?
Did the pipes play the flowers of the forest?

Gwynne

My G Uncle. Henry ( Harry) Meadows. Died in action aged 19 Belgium 1917.