Armistice Day. 11/11/11

Here is a photograph of my Great- Grandfather, John Partington. He was killed on the Somme battlefield in France on 7th September 1916.
I shall be remembering him today and on Sunday and the sacrifice he and millions of others made and are still making to enable us to live a free life.
Other close relatives who have served but were not killed:-
James Hoolahan; Boer War, WW1 my other Great Grandfather:
James Hoolahan; WW1, WW2 my Grandpa.
David Hedley Howe; WW1 my Grandad.
Philip Hedley Howe; WW2 my Dad.
William Fitzpatrick; WW2 my Father-in-law.
Margaret Green; WW2 my Mother-in-law who still lives to tell the story.
I hope to travel to France one day and visit John’s grave to pay my respects but for now I have this photo of his grave at the Quarry Cemetery, Montauban.
This photo is courtesy of the War Graves Photographic Project.
For The Fallen by Laurence Binyon.




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 condemn.
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.


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