Remembering

I wasn't going to do a Remembrance Day post - it's so overwhelmingly sad. And I'm starting to dread the burgeoning jingoism of next year's World War 1 "celebrations" as Prime Minister Cameron put it so tactlessly.

But then I remembered my great uncle, Leslie Clark, who was sent white feathers and went off to fight bravely in that pointless bloodshed of France and was killed a month before the Armistice.

Here he is with his new wife, not long before he went to France.

 He was awarded the Military Medal for bravery.

 And is buried alongside too many other young men 'somewhere in France'.

My grandfather and his brother were luckier - they survived Gallipoli and France and came home. And are remembered so fondly by their families.

Leslie and Winnie weren't married long enough to have children - so I remember.