We Will Remember Them

SS Edwin Meredith R.A.S.C./ S.H.A.E.F 1916 -2001

With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,

England mourns for her dead across the sea.

Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,

Fallen in the cause of the free.

Solemn the drums thrill; Death august and royal

Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres,

There is music in the midst of desolation

And a glory that shines upon our tears.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young,

Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.

They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted;

They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:

Age shall not weary them, nor the years contemn.

At the going down of the sun and in the morning

We will remember them.

They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;

They sit no more at familiar tables of home;

They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;

They sleep beyond England's foam.

But where our desires are and our hopes profound,

Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,

To the innermost heart of their own land they are known

As the stars are known to the Night;

As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,

Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain;

As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,

To the end, to the end, they remain.

Laurence Binyon (Published September 1914)

Edward Elgar - Nimrod

The Gallery: Vintage

When I saw the theme for this weeks Gallery I got just a little bit excited. Not that I have a passion for Vintage or anything like that you understand.
I took lots of photos of my treasures and thought about this post for quite a while. Then tonight, when I sat down to write it I decided to make it about someone rather marvellous instead. Something much more precious than any piece of china or glass. Even more thrilling than a steal of a flea market find.

My Grandfather.

Here he is, in the middle with his splendid quiff; just joined up to the Army in 1939. His wartime career didn't get off to a particularly spectacular start. Fairly normal, thoroughly nice young chap signed up to do his duty with the Staffordshire Regiment, where he soon became a Staff Sergeant. 

A few years later he was sent to London on 'important' business. My Grandmother says that he didn't really tell her an awful lot about it, she just got invited down there to have lunch at the Ritz with him and some other nice fellows. He was stationed at Grosvenor Square and was to form part of the S.H.A.E.F. In 1944, General Eisenhower moved the operation to Camp Griffiss, Bushy Park and my Grandfather went with them.
It was from here that 'Operation Overlord' a.k.a the D.Day landings were planned.

From his military records we know that sometime after the move my Grandfather was sent (read dropped) in an intelligence capacity into Belgium. My Grandmother also has a painted piece of the Ardennes Forest that he bought for her during this time. The records suggest that he was instrumental in 'some' sort of spying and transmitting.
Whatever he did, he survived and in 1945 we know that he was working for a Brigadier in Holland as he sent my Grandmother two postcards.

He also sent her a business card from a hairdressers telling her that he had a haircut 'just here', so sweet.

He returned safely in 1946 and the rest as they say, is history.
He never told anyone what he did. As well as his British service medals he was also awarded the American Bronze Star Medal
for a person who 'distinguishes, or has distinguished, himself by heroic or meritorious achievement or service,'
Amongst his paperwork sent by the M.O.D was correspondence that he had dealt with including this which I think you will agree is rather special!

Of course I would love to know exactly what he had done and what part he played in ending the War but he took the secret with him when he passed away in 2001. The man I knew was a quiet, generous, kind and gentle soul. An utter gentleman who wore his sports jacket and tie to dig the garden.
Fearless and brave with the best jellies in his pocket and always, always knew exactly where to find the dockleaves when you fell in nettles. We were Pooh and Christopher Robin, best friends and always together. The very best Grandad a little girl could have.



As always, there have been some beautiful posts and pictures on The Gallery for this topic, pop over and have a read!

Love,

We Will Remember Them

With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.

Solemn the drums thrill: Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres.
There is a music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncountered:
They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years contemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables at home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England's foam.

But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;

As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain;
As the stars are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end they remain.