Families at War

Remembrance has always been a strong element in my family history. As a child I never understood why, but years later I completely understand.

Family history is a passion for me-I love to discover where I came from and each person's history is fascinating. I first heard about the "uncles" when I was eleven. I had a school project to do and the old photos of the First World War came out in force. The looked strange and really old. The First World War was eons ago as far as I was concerned.Yet it was only my grandparent's generation who had experienced it. My dad's family were the ones in question-mum's father was only 18 at the end of the war and was in a reserved occupation and unable to join up. Which was good-because he met Grandma who was working on munitions in Vickers at Barrow-without that meeting I would not have been here.

So the "Wilkinson" side was most prominent. This was Nannie's family-my paternal grandma-the soldier she showed me was her brother John. The tinted picture was not terribly flattering-really emphasising his heavy jaw. However, he looked quite young. The story was that he had joined up but had been rejected due to poor eye-sight. Lucky I thought. Not so lucky because later in the war when they were running out of men they relaxed the rules and off he went to the Royal Garrison Artillery and the Somme. He was shot and injured in March 1918 and succumbed to his wounds dying peacefully (as his commanding officer told the family in the obligatory letter of condolence) on 28th March 1918 in Wimereaux Field Hospital. The family story was told of the bill Great Granny received for his burial blanket, of the poem written for him by Canon Rawnsley and of his name on the war memorial at St Andrew's church in Coniston. Later I discovered much more, including his last leave two weeks before he was killed, a mystery fiance "F" in his diary and mourning which was carried on for the rest of his mother's life. He is remembered by all of us, and in my uncle's second name as well as many Johns in following generations. 

My sister and her friend took me for my 40th birthday to find his grave. It was the first time I had been to a war grave and we took a rose to place beside him. I wasn't prepared for the sadness and emotion I felt and how humbling the experience would be. The small cemetery in a typical Northern French village is unusual because the grave stones are flat to the ground rather than upright, due to subsidence. We found him and I spared a thought for his mother-who only saw a sepia photograph of the original wooden cross marking his grave. His sister, my Nannie and my Granddad did visit in the 1950s, one of three such graves. Granddad had served and lost two of his brothers, so one can only guess what he was feeling revisiting the Somme so many years later.

These stories will follow in the next blog

Remembering. Dangerous? Disrespectful? Disappointing?

From being a child and hearing stories of sacrifice, bravery and loss during World War 1 I have been keyed into the "culture" of remembrance. My Granddad's tinted photograph of him on his cavalry mount, with his medals in the frame, was ever present. I was magnetically drawn to it. A brave soldier in times long ago-it seemed to me and even at six I was history mad. Ben Cowan left the world three months after I entered. I don't have any real memory of him but my dad, Nannie and aunts kept his memory alive with stories-so much so I almost believed I knew him.

I recall hearing the soundtrack to Lawrence of Arabia on the radio when I was about six. Oddly, I felt sad and the music made me think of Granddad. I don't know if this was subconscious but I later discovered he had served in Palestine and had actually seen TE Lawrence. He had spent 1914-18 on the Somme and then was deployed to the Holy Land where he remained until 1919. He was finally shipped out ill with malaria and dysentery. 

That connection with Granddad continued-I was shown a memorial at Barrow Railway Station-there was another Cowan. William Cowan Border Regiment it said. He was Granddad's brother and had worked for Furness Railway, like Granddad. He had been killed in 1917. Later I discovered another brother (he was one of 12 siblings), Bob, had died in 1916 on the 5th day of the Battle of the Somme. These ghostly figures-wafted in and out of my consciousness, only to be remembered when I had to undertake a project in 1st Year at the Grammar School on World War 1. 

Ben Cowan 4/7 Dragoons

This time information and a picture came from my aunt. Another brother lost to the conflict. This time my Nannie's. I became fascinated in my family tree and this young man Gunner John Wilkinson began to grow in my mind.Many years later I finally managed to piece together more and more information about all three and my sister treated me to a War Graves trip for my 40th birthday.

I began to understand why my usually tough dad cried at the Remembrance services and always wore a poppy. The gap between the generations narrowed. These "boys" were no longer ethereal shadows, they took on form and reality and their lives blossomed into proper biographies. As I stood next to the graves at Wimeraux, Faubourg d'Amiens and at the Thiepval Monument (Bob had not been found) their short lives resonated.  I had two boys of my own-how would I have coped with them not coming back from war? How would I have watched them go in the first place? Then, looking at the thousands of graves stretching across France, how many other mothers must have suffered just like my great grandmother? Suddenly, the impact hit and I could see the vast enormity and horror of what had happened so long ago.

William Cowan 1st Border Regiment

This experience was life changing for me and I have tried to pass it onto my own children. Its a vain hope that we can learn from this fairly recent history-after all 100 years in terms of family isn't that long. It can be easily dismissed if one doesn't know the human stories and trivialised and it seems to me its our responsibility to tell those stories to our children. I shared Michael Morpurgo's War Horse and Private Peaceful with pupils and we read the account of the Christmas Truce of 1914... all a little dramatic and sentimental. All a bit overblown and heart rending. But dangerous? Disrespectful? I don't think so. They were aimed at inspiring an emotional response, yes even sentimental, but not in a bad way. Yet the new Sainsbury's advert has been attacked for just those reasons-and of course because of the commercial purpose of an advert.

Gunner John Wilkinson RGA

Personally, I think we have to use every means possible to engage children and the general public. We want them to empathise and understand. In these days of horrific brutality and constant conflict people are almost desensitized and if this advert and the Tower poppies allow people to step back and say "Wow! I didn't realise how many died" or think "I won't vote for any government who implements an illegal war" then I don't care how schmaltzy or sentimental the means are. These things are memorable and make an impact. Its easy for commentators to declare that these things "beautify" or "trivialise" I don't believe they are right.

Bob Cowan 8th Border Regiment

Yes Sainsburys has made an advert. Yes theyre making money. But they are donating money to Royal British Legion! They are drawing attention to a relevant piece of history. I think people are missing the point! Its all meant to leave a bad taste in the mouth and its meant to play with the emotions! Its horrific to think human beings can put aside difference for a moment and then return to killing! Its poignant because its underlining this aspect of our very flawed nature! It also brings the devastation and futility of war to a new generation of people who connect with youtube videos. Maybe it will give people pause for thought...

"Imagine there's no countries It isn't hard to do Nothing to kill or die for And no religion too Imagine all the people living life in peace"

Remembrance approaches

Quick mention to the brilliant guys at Barrow Waterstones-thank you for making me so welcome on Saturday. It was a steady flow for the full hour I was there and it was a shame I missed some people...catch them later I am sure!

The weather is a bit more like it ought to be in November and I am looking forward to visiting Brantwood on Coniston Water at the weekend. I'm going to the Craft Fair and I am hopeful that I make some good sales and contacts. We had a great time last year-so this will be a test of the recession! 

It will be poignant for me to be in Brantwood on the 11th November-as I think I have mentioned before that my dad's maternal grandparents and family lived at the Lodge at the foot of the drive there. I have wonderful photos of them outside the cottage and my Great Grandfather Miles Wilkinson was a gardener under Professor John Ruskin and later took over from the Head Gardener and continued to work for Arthur and Lily Severn after Ruskin's death, until his own in 1920.

His son John will be in mind particularly as he was one of the many who gave his life for us during World War 1. He had volunteered with his brothers at the start of war, but had been declared unfit for service because of poor sight. He joined the local volunteer unit and as war progressed he was called up when conditions were relaxed. He went to France in 1917 and was home on leave in February 1918-we know this from his diary (now in Ruskin Museum Coniston) and he had barely returned to the front when he was shot in the head at Vimy Ridge. He ended his life in the field hospital at Wimeraux and lies in the cemetery there (the same cemetery which houses John McCrae-the soldier-poet who wrote "In Flanders Field"). Naturally, the family was devastated and his loss was felt in the Brantwood community. In fact he was honoured by Canon Rawnsley (of National Trust fame), who penned a poem in his honour, read at the memorial service. John was 27 years old,shy, unassuming and quiet. He had a fiance-who is known only to us from the diary as "F"-she lived at the Severn's London home in Warwick Square and was a servant there. One wonders what happened to her and how she took the news-she had visited the family home in Coniston on his last leave-so it was maybe then that they were engaged.His diary entries are brief and simple-but it is quite chilling when the entries cease on 26th March-two days before he was shot. However, the most poignant and disturbing discovery is in the fly leaf of the diary, where in faint pencil he has scrawled "Cheerio".

John Wilkinson Royal Garrison Artillery Died 30 March 1918

Poem written for John by Canon Rawnsley

Remembrance ceremony for the fallen of the villageand dedication of the memorial cross in St Andrew's Church Coniston