So this post will be the last for the time being about First World War subjects, I promise...I have the next one planned and it is much lighter & fun, so do bear with me!
Yesterday, 14th August, was the 95th anniversary of the death of my great-great-uncle, Cyril. I mentioned him in my last post, but there is greater detail about him elsewhere on this blog (if you look for a post titled 'Anzac Day' for instance) In a nutshell, he was the youngest brother of my great-grandfather Walter. We didn't know he ever existed until about 10 years ago, when a chance search of the Commonwealth War Graves website revealed the site of his burial (in England...in the town he was born in in Suffolk on the East Coast...) My Mum was absolutely amazed. She thought that she had known all her great-uncles on that side of the family, and that they had all returned safely from the war (although damaged, as detailed before.) Cyril was never, ever spoken about and we knew that there must be a secret there which would unlock the reason. Families are so full of hidden emotions, lies, shame...if you just delve a little bit, you are sure to find this in your own somewhere!
After (literally) years of searching, I have managed to piece it all together finally. The last bits of the jigsaw were fitted together for me by an amazing company called Fourteen Eighteen which undertakes paid (but very reasonably,in my opinion) research into the soldiers of WW1. I won't reveal it all here...much of it is extremely personal, of course, and I owe him his dignity even after all this time.
But what I can say is that his life ended by his own hand. He threw himself in front of an underground train at Elephant & Castle station, in London one late summer afternoon at the age of 29. Another victim of the terrible war that killed so many. Now that I have all the facts, I really wanted to honour him as he has been forgotten for so very long. So yesterday I travelled to that same station...
Amazingly, last night I received an anonymous message from someone who had stopped to read the note attached to the roses that they had seen at the station on their way home...and who had cared enough to Google Cyril's name which had led them to this blog. They were pleased to know he had been 'found' and honoured, as he should be. I was very touched - and thrilled on his behalf, too.
Have a wonderful weekend x