Remembrance Day Parade

This was the first glimpse I had as the parade came around the corner,
it was a long way down the road and the rain was tipping down.

Sunday dawned much chillier than forecast and the 40% chance of rain seemed very optimistic, judging by the sky and the feel of the air.

Max was marching to represent the Royal Marines
so we had to set off early.
Even so, 
by the time we reached the parade grounds
the place was bustling
with scouts, guides, beavers, cubs,
air cadets, sea cadets, army cadets,
firemen, policemen
the Mayor
soldiers, sailors, airmen
veterans...

It was busy.

This very elderly and frail old soldier found another use for his poppy wreath.
I could only admire his inventiveness, it was very cold and the rain was beating down.

Normally I find a place to stand which is about as close to 
the war memorial 
as it is possible to get,
 without upsetting the photographer from the local newspaper.   
(it was the place favoured by Trent's* wife, Margo, 
when she used to attend).

This year, to my shame,  I found that I found myself wondering whether that was wise
given the number of idiots which seem to have infiltrated
every corner of the world, trying to cause chaos
and mayhem.

My dilemma was resolved
once I found that my young grandchildren would not be attending.

I stood in my normal place, right near the action
at the memorial.


I will not be cowed and have fear dictate to me...
and yet, having said that, 
I know that I wouldn't have stood there with my little grandchildren.

Like it or not, these evil people do tinker with our minds.

Here is Max just walking up to present the wreath on behalf of the Royal Marines.

I have been attending these acts of remembrance for quite a number of years,
the number of old soldiers diminishes every year,
so it was so good to see just how many parents and children 
had turned out,
despite the weather.

This is how wet it was - and don't forget to factor in the bitter cold.
I love the grit and determination on their faces.

After all the formal presentations have been made 
there is always a very poignant point 
when the Parade Master calls
for anyone who wishes to present a wreath for any individual.

This year there were several, 
the sadness and raw grief on some faces told their own story.
I was glad of the rain.

This service is about real people
who had lives and loves of their own.

We will remember.



*  The photographs in this post are for our friend,
Trent.
He normally participates in the act of Remembrance,
unfortunately,
serious illness has got in the way of that this year.

Sister Nellie Clark

Later this morning I will be going into town to attend the Remembrance Parade in a local market town where  Max will present the wreath on behalf of the Royal Marines.  

He normally does this along with his old friend, and ex Royal Marine, Trent but unfortunately Trent is very poorly at the moment.





*      *      *

This is the WWI memorial stone in the small village of Bilsby, just a few miles from here.   It was paid for by subscription from the villagers.     There are just seven names on the memorial, three of them have the surname Clark.  

The village is very small so there is a strong possibility that they may all have been related.     As I prowled around the churchyard I was unable to locate any markers for them.   Then I began to venture deeper into a very neglected and overgrown corner.

The marker for Cpl Leonard Clark is the pinkish one in the middle.  Luckily, that one is also inscribed on this side, otherwise I would have missed it.    The turquoise coloured insignia at the top is the badge of the Coldstream Guards, with whom he served.

When I visited the churchyard yesterday I was pleased to see that someone had at least made an effort to clear around the front of a couple of the stones - someone who must have had very strong cutters with them, for I was able to get round in front of the stones to take this next photograph...

Here you can see the white war grave stone for W Clark, which had been completely submerged in the undergrowth...Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

There was no marker for Nellie, which added to my intrigue.

I decided to see what I could find out about her.

*     *     *

Nellie's story.    

Nellie was born 6 March 1888 and died in Serbia on December 25th 1914, aged just 26 years.

A trained nursing sister, Nellie Clark volunteered to join Lady Paget's first Serbian Relief Expedition and travelled to Serbia in October 1914.     Their mission was to set up a 600 bed hospital on the outskirts of Skopje, to treat wounded soldiers and to help "gallant little Serbia".

By the miracles of the internet, I have been able to find a photograph of her.

Conditions in Skopje were terrible, but through sheer hard work the hospital was soon established and treating the wounded soldiers and local Serbian civilians.

Unfortunately, within three months of her arrival,  Nellie died of septic poisoning, contracted while performing her duty.    She was the first of the expedition staff to die and was buried in Skopje, Serbia.    The admiration and respect for these brave women was such that almost the whole town turned out for her funeral.

Lady Ralph Paget wrote to her parents that 'she was the best nurse we had.   She was so kind and gentle that she was loved by everyone who had the honour of knowing her and the men she had nursed adored her and were terribly upset when they heard of her death'.

Nellie was the first, but not the last, of Lady Paget's hospital staff to die as typhoid and other diseases took their toll.

So, Sister Nellie Clark, a courageous and determined woman for whom the words of Rupert Brooke seem appropriate:

If I should die, think only this of me
That there's some corner of a foreign field
That is forever England

*     *     *


Next year I'll choose another name from a monument and see what I can find out about them.

Image by the guardian.

Lest we forget.