…no, we’ll never tell them:
We spent our pay in some cafe, And fought wild women night and day, ‘Twas the cushiest job we ever had”.
And when they ask us, and they’re certainly going to ask us, The reason why we didn’t win the Croix de Guerre,
Oh, we’ll never tell them, oh, we’ll never tell them
There was a front, but damned if we knew where.
~Oh What a Lovely War
When we returned from UK there was a small package waiting for me from my cousin Geoffrey Andrews.
I was expecting it.
It contained the First World War medals of our grandfather–James P. Weakford and a sheet of paper with photographs of the medals and a photo of Geoffrey’s father, my uncle, the gloriously-named Merlin Andrews.
Uncle Merlin served on the Western Front at Ypres, the Somme and at Passchendaele as a Lewis machine gunner.
He survived to continue in business with his brother Fred in their butchers shop in the Fulham Road, West London.
He died aged over a hundred after receiving the Legion d’Honneur (with the red ribbon) from the French government.
Imprinted on the back of one of our grandfather’s two medals are the words: The Great War for Civilisation.
Geoffrey says Merlin never talked about the war.
This seems to be a common factor–few who survived were willing to revisit the horrors they’d seen and lived with.
Harry Patch–one of the last survivors–told no one, not even his wife, he said in a BBC Radio 4 interview, until he was persuaded to write a book about it when he was well over one hundred.
Understandable reticence but regrettable….
Telling it like it was would have helped counter the myth-making intentions behind the phrase imprinted on the reverse of Grandfather Weakford’s medal.
The “Great” War?
“The Catastrophic War of Unintended Consequences” more like.
Robin Ellis 
What a beautiful post Robin. I was so hoping to be in England during these days of remembrance. My youngest daughter Maureen lives outside London and she texted me this morning ‘:UK is doing a lights out campaign – where we are turning off house lights from 10 to 11pm for the beginning of WW1.’
I was working on a painting a couple of years back, which developed slowly into a theme of the Trenches of WW!. (It is not finished; rather abstract as well.) I started researching photos and articles about the war, and I felt so pulled in by those photos, and the faces in them. So tragically haunting in too many ways.
I have really heard no references to it here, and I find myself telling others in conversation as a reminder. Usually I receive a ‘oh,…. really.’ in response. I don’t believe there is even a proper memorial in DC, as I have never come across one. Sad. I seem to have seen many in London. A friend who did knowledgeably chat about it (he’s a bit of a history buff) suggested I watch the movie ‘Paths of Glory’ (of or to; no sure) . I found it in the library;Great film.
Anyway, thank you for such a great post.
Cheers,
Sheila
At age 75, I am distressed, as I reflect on what has happened in my lifetime in the realm of wars – ongoing carnage; husbands, wives, sons, daughters, fathers & mothers lost forever, with politicians’ seeming indifference to the
horrors inflicted. And, of late, military personnel serving in war zones 3 – 4 times? When will we wake up? Thank you, Robin, for the caring blog on this sad anniversary.
My father served in the second World War and he spoke of it rarely and then in nonspecific terms (friends, things he’d seen off-duty, etc.), when I was growing up. The most he’d say was “Old men make wars, young men fight them”. Still true, unfortunately.
Well said Liz.
And a century afterward, we are still living with its nightmarish “unintended consequences.”
Thank you for that thoughtful post, dear Mr. Ellis.
@Sheila. No proper memorial in DC and when there was the disastrous march on Washington by WWI vets in 1932 demanding congress dole out now a $500 promised bonus, congress ignored them and they were finally run out of town by General Macarthur on orders of President Hoover.
Thank you for your thoughtful blog on this anniversary. I don’t know if you were able to receive the beautiful service from Westminster Abbey last night or have seen the wonderful, poignant and powerful poppy installation at the Tower of London. From close to it will emphasise the vast number that died – the aerial view looks like a massive pool of blood. The anniversary got me thinking not just of the horrifying mass slaughter, but how those of us who are a little older are the link with that past. Growing up in the 1960s there were still people from that generation around – all marked in some way by the experience. Men who never talked about the war – my grandfather was at Gallipoli, our neighbour was gassed, my godmother’s father was blinded, my Sunday school teacher lost her only brother and always had his photo on display – she like so many other women never married or had children after the loss of so many men, my great-great uncle missed the births and early years of several sons whilst away in the trenches although luckily he survived…. A whole generation paid an enormous price. Our commemorations are a small gesture in return but it has been encouraging to see the younger generation wanting to learn about the sacrifice of individuals and hopefully go on to play their part in seeing such carnage never occurs again, at least in Europe – as for the rest of the world……..
Thanks for sharing your family history. It always amazes me when we’re in Europe to see so many buildings & places that still show the scars of war. You don’t see that so much over here. I watched the video–where was that shot? Is that a real locale? It reminded me a bit of Arlington Nat’l Cemetery (another humbling place). But I couldn’t believe it when the camera panned out……….So incredibly sad.
Thanks Robin, (may I call you that?) for your moving blog.
I am 78 . My father served in the North Sea convoy in WW II; he never talked about either.
I can’t believe that after 100 years . Man is still killing Man.
Will we never learn?
My mom worked at the Naval base in San Diego during WWII and was on duty in the communications office when the call came in that Pearl Harbor had been bombed. As a telephone operator she spent the the next week at the station telling loved ones that no calls were permitted to be sent to Pearl Harbor. Her stories of the painful calls she had to take from families broke my heart. Each year the local paper would run a contest for the best story of “Where were you when you heard about Pearl Harbor.” She never entered and told no one other than her children of her horrible experience there. The fear, the horror. War affects you forever. Thanks for sharing your Uncle’s story.
Wonderful blog Robin ,thanks for sharing your family history with us .I loved the quote from Harry Patch`s book about letting the politicians fight it out amongst themselves ,think how many problems that would solve in the world today .
The war to end all wars they called it. I think not !.
.
What a moving and insightful commentary. It seems the madness will never end, My uncle was in both world wars. He nearly died in France, then was in the National Guard when they were called back to serve at the beginning off World war two. My husband was in the Korean war. On and on. The madness will never end!
This blog has brought out lots of memories. What a gift. My Gram had a brother who died at Ypres I believe and I recall reading a letter from him that was short and included money to “buy some ice cream for the kiddies” (meaning my Mom and her brothers and sister). James Snoddy died of Mustard gas.
A decorated American hero, Major General Smedley Butler, fought in WWI, and became very disillusioned. He concluded that “War is a Racket.” I highly recommend the book, Devil Dog, by David Talbot,
Both my grandfathers were doughboys, called up, but neither served. One, the machine gunner, was set to be shipped out when measles broke out in his barracks in New Jersey in the fall of 1918, delaying them all. I’m not sure what coincidence saved the other! We have one photo of each in uniform, looking very young and untried. Thank you for your post, which has triggered such an outpouring of emotion from us all. We toured the battlefields on our honeymoon, and it was sobering.
My best to you, with thanks, for remembering to remember!
Nancy N
Harry patch was a wonderful man. He touched my soul.
Thank you for sharing you family story with us Robin.They were very brave men so young and full of life and hope the horrors they must have seen must have been terrible. I had two uncle’s who went Joe the eldest went first, Mons Somme Ypres passchendaele and then gassed. I remember as a child in the 50’s
sitting on his knee and hearing his lungs bubbling it was long after that I realised
what it was but Joe lived into his seventies and saw his sons have their own families. Now Robert two years younger was a drayman for Boddington’s he had two beautiful shire horses Gilbert and Henry I still have a picture of them Bob went to work one morning and came running back crying his eyes out, gran Robby what’s wrong lad Bob they’ve taken them for the war, his beloved horses were gone. Bob run up stairs packed his bag and ran off the find his horses, gran trying to stop him but no good he was gone. He did find them pulling artillery guns at the front so he joined up and stayed, he somehow ended up on the Russian front and was taken prisoner and put to work in the salt mines.
I never did find out what happen to Gilbert and Henry but when I saw War Horse I remembered uncle Bob and his beautiful shires.
So Robin we put out the lights and left one small one shining, not much to do for all those brave souls but I thought about them,
You know Robin that very brave man Harry Patch had it right.
Thanks Elaine–very touching story. What a disaster the whole thing was.
Thank you for sharing your thoughts and tribute to those who suffered through and lost their lives in the terrible World War I.
I have just received my copy of “The Last Fighting Tommy” by Harry Patch. It will help me pay tribute to those soldiers by carrying on their memory while sharing the knowledge with other people. I’ve only read bits of the book, but it appears fascinating and absorbing his story is a fitting way to spend the final two weeks of August, 2014, one hundred years later.