Читать книгу The Other Side of the Trench - G. S. Willmott - Страница 12

Chapter 8

July 1916 Fromelles France

Harry was in the trench with his mates from the 59th Battalion. They had been hearing the bombardment of the German positions for hours now. ‘Geez I hope Pompey and the other officers were right; this bombardment should knock the shit out of Fritz. Just a quick sprint and we take the German trenches.’

‘You are bloody mad, Harry, it’s not gonna be that easy.’ said Frankie, ‘no bloody way.’ ‘I was only joking Frankie, I don’t really believe the bloody officers. Are you a bit scared Frank?’

‘Fucking oath mate, I really don’t want to die here, I was rather hoping I would die in my sleep when I’m about fucking ninety.’ ‘Yeah, me too, said Harry’.

‘Did you hear what happened to Brucey Cook?’ ‘No, what happened’? ‘He copped a fucking shell in the trench.’ ‘How do you know?’ ‘The runner told me. You were having a bit of a kip… fucked if I know how with all this bloody noise.’

The officers and NCO’s started to move along the trenches, informing the Diggers that they were due to go over the top in thirty minutes. They told them to check their equipment most importantly their rifles, bayonets and grenades. It had been reported that inexperienced troops were forgetting to pull the pin on their grenades before hurling them, so this was mentioned as well.

Harry took the time to write a quick note to his Mum and Dad back home in Melbourne.

“Dear Mum and Dad,

I have been told we are going over the top very soon. I know what that is like from my time at Gallipoli and its hell on earth. I survived Gallipoli and I have no doubt I will survive here with the help of God.

I will put this letter in my pocket and if anything does happen to me, my cobbers will find it and send it on to you.

I want you to know that I love you both.

Well I said a quick note and there’s the five-minute whistle so I better sign off.

Love

Harry”

Harry’s parents never received his letter.

‘Well, mate, this it, I’ll see you in Jerry’s trenches soon.’

‘See you there, cobber, responded Frankie.

Then they heard the whistle and the officer close to them yelled ‘Give them hell boys! Over you go!’

Harry and Frankie clambered over the top and started to run, heading for Sugar Loaf their objective, according to orders. Machine Guns were firing from all directions Harry could hear the bullets tearing through the flesh of the Diggers running beside him. He found a shell crater and jumped in only to find three bodies lying in the water at the bottom. ‘So this is what they call ANZAC soup.’ he thought.

He knew he could not stay there long so he clambered up the slope and was starting to run again. He had not fired a shot yet, a bit useless from this far away. He could feel his heart pumping and the adrenalin rushing through his veins was like a river torrent: the noise of the guns and shellfire was deafening, then, silence.

Harry had received a mortal wound. He would not be going home, he would not be found, he would not have The Last Post played as they lowered him down. He would be one of the missing, an unknown soldier.

Harry’s 59^th Battalion was ordered to take Sugar Loaf. This was a near impossible mission. It was from this fortification that Harry received his mortal blow Back home in Northcote, Melbourne, Harry’s Mother was bathing the youngest of her three children, James, when there was a knock at the front door. She took James from the bath and covered him with a towel. Slowly she opened the door, as she did not get many visitors. She looked at the Minister from their church watching her grimly, he had a yellow envelope in his hand.

‘No, NO it can’t be! Harry NO! she screamed, starting to weep.’ ‘I am so sorry, Jane. Can I come in?’ ‘I am sorry Minister. I would rather be on my own right now.’ ‘If there is anything I can do please let me know.’

Jane closed the door and leaned against the hall wall and wailed. James starting crying and the whole Daniel house was encompassed in grief.

Sam Daniel came home from work about 4.30 pm only to find Jane in the kitchen, sitting quietly.

‘What’s wrong, love, you look like you have seen a ghost.’ Jane looked at him and pointed to the telegram on the kitchen table. He picked it up and read it “It is my painful duty to inform you” That is all he read. He slumped down on the chair and wept.

Jane and Sam did not sleep much that night managing only a couple of hours. Sam got up first and made a cup of tea. He went into the bedroom to wake Jane and was astounded. Jane’s hair had turned completely white overnight.

Melbourne Australia 2012

Lois Kennedy was Harry’s niece, she often wondered about her uncle Harry; he had died well before she had been born. She had seen a news report only that week about Australian and British soldiers being discovered in a place called Pheasant’s Wood at Fromelles and they were seeking relatives of soldiers who died in the Battle of Fromeles to give a DNA sample to try to identify them. Lois contacted the Department of Defence and requested a DNA kit.

The kit arrived a few weeks later and she swabbed the inside of her cheeks and placed it in the plastic bag and the envelope provided and returned it.

She hoped that Harry would become one of the found and be properly buried in the newly created cemetery in the Fromelles village.

This was the advertisement that Lois Kennedy saw in the newspaper she was reading on her front veranda on a very warm Melbourne afternoon in January 2011.

“Back-Roads Touring”text-align: center;

WWI Battlefield Weekend 2013

YPRES SALIENT, THE SOMME, VILLERS-BRETONNEUX, FROMELLES & VIMY RIDGE – ‘This three day introductory tour allows visitors to see the major areas of British and Commonwealth involvement across the Western Front. All the major Commonwealth countries; Canada, Australia, New Zealand, South Africa and India, as well as Britain, played major roles in ensuring ultimate victory and the tour is flexible enough to ensure that visitors from all countries will see the memorials to their countries fallen, as well as gaining a greater understanding of the overall conduct and strategy of the war.’

She had always wanted to visit the battlefields where her two uncles were killed in the First World War. She had recently retired from her position as an administrator with the Catholic Church and was therefore free to go. She decided to email for the information pack and it arrived four days later.

Lois read the brochure; it really did look like a wonderful trip. She had travelled to Europe with her daughter years before and fell in love with Paris so she did not need any prompting to return. The tour went to both Fromelles and Ypres close to where young Harry died in that horrendous battle and where Harry Senior endured horrible machine gun wounds. Harry Senior had died at Amiens and she hoped to travel there also. Neither of the Harry’s had “no known grave” and therefore she would see their memorials. Young Harry was at V.C. Corner and Harry Senior at Villers – Bretonneux.

Lois put the brochure away for a few days and then brought it out of the kitchen dresser and read it again. I am going she said to her self. She emailed Back-Roads Touring Co and requested a registration form which Mandy, the sales and marketing person, promptly sent via return email. The cost including airfares, accommodation and the tour was $3500. She would be away for two weeks unless she decided to extend and do some more travelling. That decision could wait. Lois completed the registration form that night and transferred the funds from her bank account.

‘There, I am committed’ she thought.

Lois then rang all four of her children and told them what she was doing. They were all delighted, although her youngest son, Terry, was concerned that his Mother at seventy-two would be travelling alone. He spoke to his wife, Claire, the next day and they both decided that Terry should travel to France with his mother. He had not been to Europe before so he was quite excited by the thought of seeing Paris and some of France.

He went around to Lois’s house the next day and told Lois his news. She was absolutely delighted. The only downside of the trip had been the prospect of travelling alone and now her son, who she loved dearly, was going to accompany her. ‘I’m excited too, Mum. I have always had a strong interest in what happened to my ancestors in the First World War. The fact that I get to see Paris and some of the French country- side is an added bonus.

On the other side of the globe in Edinburgh, Scotland, Stewart McDonald read the same advertisement in the Edinburgh Herald and Post. He too was keen to see where both his Great Grand Father and Great Uncle had fought and died. Stewart was a barrister practising in Edinburgh.

His Great Grand Father, Archie Shearer, was with the 15^th Scottish Division. He was sent to the Western Front in June 1915. He fought in the Battle of Loos. He died on the 26^th of September 1915.

His other Great Grand Uncle was Albert Shearer, who was with the 9^th Infantry Division. He was sent to the Western Front in May 1916. He partook in the Battle of the Somme. He died on the 1^st of July 1916.

Archie and Albert had a younger sister, Jane, who was only fourteen when the war broke out; Jane was Stewart’s Great Grandmother. The children grew up in Leith, a suburb of Edinburgh. Both Archie and Albert were shipwrights like their father and his father before him. In fact the Shearers had been shipwrights since the 1700’s.

When the war broke out, the need for shipwrights was great, with the need for Britain to build more and more ships for battle and troop carrying. Both the brothers wanted to join their mates and go to war, not stay home and build ships, so they both enlisted with their occupations stated as labourers. Archie enlisted at the age of twenty, Albert was eighteen.

They both undertook six weeks of intensive training at Redford Barracks. Archie shipped out to France in June 1915 with the 15^th Scottish division. Albert followed two weeks later with the 9^th.

Archie’s first taste of battle was in The Battle of Loos; it was also to be his last. During the battle the British suffered 50,000 casualties. German casualties were estimated much lower, at approximately half the British total. The British failure at Loos contributed to General Haig’s replacement of General French as Commander-in-Chief at the close of 1915.

Edinburgh Scotland 2012

Stewart decided to go on the military tour. The timing was not perfect for his law practice, being the middle of April and his busiest period, but he knew it would be worth it. His father, also named Archie, often spoke about the sacrifices his grandfather made, along with the other 700,000 British who died for their King and country.

He requested the registration form, which Mandy duly emailed to him. He transferred the funds and emailed the form and started to plan his weeklong absence from his practice. At least he didn’t have to travel all the way from Australia like Lois and Terry.

Grove, Huon Valley, Tasmania, Australia 2012

Ian Wooley lived in a beautiful part of Tasmania, although it would seem Tasmania was pretty much beautiful throughout. He lived in the little town of Grove, the gateway to the Huon Valley, in the southern most part of Australia. His family had been apple orchardists for generations. Ian had also continued the family tradition but was finding it more and more difficult to make a suitable living. Competition from overseas had reduced margins down to the point when Ian had to make the decision to continue growing apples or bulldoze the trees and burn the lot. Fortunately he had seen this coming and had gradually converted to growing cherries. Cherries were much more profitable and the only reason he had hesitated in getting out of growing apples altogether was the family history. He considered family history and tradition as an important part of his life.

That belief system led him to register for “Back-Roads Touring” battlefield tour ,which he found through a Google search on the Internet. It was something he had wanted to do for a long time and he felt the time was right.

Ranelagh, Huon Valley, Tasmania, Australia 1916

His Great Uncle was Charles Wooley, an apple orchardist from the Huon Valley in a little community called Ranalagh. Charles was twenty-four when he enlisted having heard a rousing call to arms at a meeting in the Ranalagh Community Hall. He went home full of patriotic fervour and announced his enlistment to his wife and little boy John. His wife Sophie was devastated.

‘What happens to John and me if you get yourself killed over there?’ she cried, ‘Why didn’t you discuss it with me before you signed up?’

Charlie started to feel guilty about leaving his family but this was war and the King and his country must be defended from the German menace, at all costs. After a very restless night, Sophie got out of bed and prepared John’s breakfast before waking him; he was only four but he had a voracious appetite. She knew plenty of other wives in the valley were losing their husbands to this war and in retrospect felt that Charlie was doing the right thing.

Charlie started basic training at Broadmeadows in Victoria two weeks later and after two months, embarked on the troop ship, SS Ceramic, and landed in Egypt two months later on the 14th of July, 1916. He was assigned to the 47th Battalion. He was able to do the tourist things as well as march in blistering heat on the sand for miles with a full pack. He was not sure how this would help in France which he was told was green and quite cold and wet in winter although mild in summer.

He shipped out to France and saw action almost immediately. He fought in a number of battles including Passchendaele and Pozieres and, apart from a leg wound, survived some of the most ferocious fighting in the war. The battle he was last involved with was at Dernancourt.

The five divisions of the AIF, now organised into the Australian Corps, had spent the winter of 1917–18 in Belgium. As this new crisis developed on the Somme, Australian units were hurried south to help hold back the German advance. On 27th March, 1918, elements of the Fourth Division took up positions around Dernancourt. This village on the River Ancre is on the southwest outskirts of Albert, which had been occupied by the Germans. On the 28th of March, the Germans attempted to resume their advance. In the morning mist, the Germans emerged from Albert along the railway line.

On that day, fighting spread along the whole front between Dernancourt and Albert. The 48th Battalion (South Australia and Western Australia) and the 12th Machine Gun Company supporting a British unit were attacked but all attacks were beaten back. British and Australian artillery interfered with German attempts to rally troops and to bring forward support troops for further assaults. One German attempt to mount an attack was ruined by what Charles Bean, the Australian official historian, called ‘a rather strange occurrence’. As the Germans were massing for the attack, a chance shell caused an old British ammunition dump to explode. The noise was deafening and the Germans scattered. By this time the Australians, who had had three days and three nights of moving, marching, digging, fighting and little sleep, were nearly exhausted. However, rain, which began with a drizzle in late afternoon, became heavier during the night and made further German attacks unlikely. The Australians were soon withdrawn from the line for a rest. The rest did not last for long.

Charlie died from massive bullet wounds on the 5th of April, 1918. He has no known grave. His memorial grave is at Villers-Bretonneux Memorial, France.

Melbourne, Australia 2012

George Abbey was a banker; he had been with The Commonwealth Bank for forty- five years and retired recently. He has four adult children and a wife, Anna, to whom he has been married for forty-two years. George is a model citizen and a keen Rotarian, however, he is a bit boring and has not done anything adventurous in his life.

George’s uncle was John Abbey, to his mates, Jack. He was born in Yorkshire, England, in a beautiful and ancient village called Bolton Percy in North Yorkshire. The village was established under William the Conquer.

Jack, unlike George, was an adventurer; he left home at seventeen and spent his life’s savings on a one-way fare by ship to Melbourne, Australia, where he thought his prospects would be better.

He enlisted in the Australian Imperial Forces on the 18th of December, 1914 in Melbourne Victoria. His unit was 8th Battalion 2nd Reinforcement. On the 2nd of February, he boarded the HMAT Clan Macgillivray to England and then on to Gallipoli. He survived the carnage of Gallipoli. He then went to Egypt and joined the 60th Battalion and then shipped to France. The first and only action in France for Jack was the disastrous battle of Fromelles. He died on the 19th of July, 1916.

Jack has “No Known Grave”.

George took the decision. He and Anna would travel to Europe and as part of their European adventure, they would take part in the “Back-Roads Touring” battlefields tour. He hoped this would give him a greater appreciation of his Uncle Jack’s short life.

Sydney, Australia 2012

Christine Abbot is a medical doctor practising in Bondi Junction in Sydney NSW; her husband Tony Hailes is also a doctor practising as a cardiologist out of the Royal Prince Alfred Hospital. Both are dedicated and very good at what they do. They have two boys, Ben, 16 and Adam, 13. Both attend Sydney Grammar. They live in Belleview Hill in a multi million-dollar villa with swimming pool and tennis court. Things are pretty good for the family.

Things were not so easy for Christine’s Great Uncle, David Abbott, who was a boot salesman and lived in Surrey Hills, which was, in the early part of the twentieth century, a working class suburb. At the age of twenty-one he enlisted in the AIF at Holsworthy Army Base, where he completed his basic training and embarked from Sydney on board HMAT, Star of England, on a sunny balmy day on the 8th of March, 1916 heading for England, then France. He arrived in England at the end of May, 1916 and was immediately shipped to Marseilles, France and then moved out to Fromelles to help with the trench digging prior to the Battle, a battle which would take his life.

Christine had never really taken any interest in the First World War, or any war for that matter. She was more interested in saving lives rather than reading about the carnage of war. She never really had any interest in her family history either… that was until she saw a documentary on the Battle of Fromelles and how a mass grave had been discovered at a place called Pheasant Wood. She knew that she had a relative who had died in France but did not know where or how. Her father never talked about it and apart from ANZAC day and Remembrance Day, she never really thought about war.

She turned to her husband: ‘Tony, did you know I had a relative, a great uncle I think, who died in the First World War?’

‘No darling you have never mentioned it to me before. Where did he die?’

‘I don’t know, but I intend to find out.’ ‘Well, said Tony, lets look it up on the Net.’ After a little research they found the Commonwealth War Graves Commission web site.

There it was: David Roylestone Leslie Abbott, Sydney NSW, Single, Five feet seven inches.

The key piece of data was: killed in action 19th July, 1916 They knew from watching the documentary that was the date of the Battle of Fromelles. They decided then and there that they would all go to France and visit Fromelles and learn more about the battle in which her Great Uncle fought and died. Christine again searched the web and discovered “Battlefield Tours of France and Belgium” led by “Back-Roads Touring” . She requested the registration forms, completed them and paid the $3,200.

The following morning over breakfast Christine and Tony made the announcement to their two sons, they would all be travelling to France and Belgium and take the battlefield tour.

Adam was very excited and could hardly wait to tell his mates at school. ‘Hold on Mum and Dad you didn’t consult me first, I have pre-season football training to attend and its not a good idea to take time off in my final year. You guys and Adam go and I can stay home and look after the house.

‘You are certainly not staying home alone Ben end of discussion you are coming with us. You might just learn that there are more things in the world other than you and only you.’ Said Tony in a stern fatherly voice.

Ben asked to be excused from the table and went to his bedroom to listen to his Ipod and sulk. ‘He will come around Darling don’t worry’ said Christine

‘I really do hope that this experience will enlighten him. Kids his age were fighting on the frontlines of Gallipoli and the Western Front and here he is being all petulant because it interrupts his diary. I think leaving his new girlfriend has something to do with it as well.’

Ben’s behaviour did not improve including when they boarded the plane for Paris. They had all checked in their luggage and gone through security when Ben could not be found.

‘I have looked everywhere he does not seem to be in the terminal’ Tony said in a frustrated tone. The announcement came over the PA that fight AF1267 was boarding.

Tony raced to the men’s toilet again to see if Ben was there he noticed the cubicle with the door closed twenty minutes ago was still closed. He was suspicious and got down on his knees and looked underneath. There was no tell tale pants around the ankles. He knocked on the door and surprisingly Ben answered with a ‘What do you want’?

‘You get the hell out of there right down you little bastard or I will break the door down and lead you through the terminal and on to the plane by the ear’ Ben reluctantly opened the door and walked out with a very sheepish look on his face.

‘I don’t have time to talk to you about this now just get your skates on and rest assured we will talk about it later.’

The family boarded the 747 last and were shown their seats. The plane took off on time. Ben having been reprimanded severely by his parents spent most of the flight listening to his music and reading magazines.

Brisbane, Australia 2012

Steve Vardy has lived in Brisbane for all of his fifty-nine years and has worked in the Information Technology industry for the past thirty years. He loves his family and his golf and apart from a divorce twenty years ago, nothing dramatic has happened in his life. Steve decided to research his family history as many people are now doing and paid his subscription to Ancestory.com. He enjoyed doing the research and was having some success in tracing his ancestry back to England and in particular the Nottingham area where the Vardys seemed to inhabit. It was while he was researching, that he found he had a Great Uncle, Frederick Vardy, who was a soldier with the Sherwood Foresters and had fought and died in the First World War.

Fred Vardy came from an adventurous background; his father, Henry, came from a small village called Hucknall – under – Huthwaite in Nottinghamshire. At the age of fifteen, Henry joined the army. He lied about his age and was dispatched to Australia via the Crimean war and the Maori Wars in New Zealand.

He eventually returned to England, married and had several children. One of those children was Frederick Vardy.

Fred was just twenty when he enlisted and was sent to France in September 1916. He had been a framework knitter, as was the Vardy tradition but life in the army was a world away from his life in Nottingham where he used to drink a pint or two or sometimes three at his favourite pub, the oldest pub in England in fact “Ye Old Trip to Jerusalem” with his mates.

Fred died on the seventh of June 1917 at the Battle of Messines. It has been argued that the Battle of Messines was the most successful local operation of the war, certainly of the Western Front. Carried out by General Herbert Plummer Second Army, it was launched on 7 June 1917 with the detonation of nineteen underground mines underneath the German mines. There were sixteen thousand British killed in the Battle of Messines; one of them was Fred Vardy. He has no known grave.

Steve discussed it with his wife, Brenda, and his daughter, Sarah, and it was decided that his sixtieth birthday would be celebrated by Steve going on a battlefield tour to learn more about his Great Uncle and the Great War.

Massachusetts U.S.A. 2012

Mike Hansen lives in Sudbury, Massachusetts about twenty miles outside Boston. It is a beautiful leafy suburb with many historic homes similar to the one where Mike’s wife and he live, at Widow’s Rites Lane. He has his own recruitment company and has been very successful with it for many years. He has been considering a very lucrative offer to sell to a competitor and retire and do a bit of travelling, play golf and some fishing. A keen amateur historian, he has spent many an hour researching the American Civil War and the American War of Independence. Recently he took an interest in World War One and the USA’s late involvement.

He knew he had an Uncle who had fought in the war but he was not sure where and when. He decided to do some research and found that his Great Uncle, William Hansen, had been conscripted in 1917 and had been sent to France and took part in the battle of Belleau Wood which was critical to the Aisne Offensive. Mike also discovered that William had died in that battle, along with nearly two thousand of his compatriots.

The decision was made that he would register for the “Back-Roads Touring” tour. He e-mailed the company and requested a registration form, which Mandy organised to send to him. Mike’s wife, Loretta, decided that she would stay at home and look after their cats. She didn’t really like flying anyway. Mike completed the form and transferred the money.

Christchurch New Zealand 2012

The second last person to register for the tour was, Grant McKenzie, a New Zealander from the South Island. Grant owns an Apple computer store in Christchurch. It is a very successful business and sales have been strong, particularly since the iPod came onto the market and then the iPhone and the iPad. Grant is a very patriotic New Zealander who reveres the ANZAC spirit. The All Blacks and any team who beats Australia in any sport. Grant, being a single man, although married three times, did not need to consult anybody before he decided to register for the tour.

Grant’s Grandfather, Athol McKenzie, was raised in Canterbury on the South Island, on his Mother and Father’s dairy farm. The size of their herd was one hundred Friesians. This was above average for the Canterbury area in the early 1900’s. They no longer hand milked the herd but used a vacuum based milking machine.

Life was hard on the farm but very satisfying. Young Athol helped with the milking in the morning, having got up at 5am; he then had breakfast and prepared for school. After school he had an hour to play, before it was time again to round up the herd and milk the cows again. After dinner it was homework and then off to bed.

Athol had two sisters, Susan and Claire who also helped around the farm and had a similar regime to Athol. Athol took a keen interest in what was happening in Europe although by the time the news reached Canterbury, it was pretty old. There had been recruitment marches all over New Zealand and on the 21st of February, 1916, they came to Ashburton after they recruited five hundred lads in Christchurch.

Athol joined up on the day and then returned to the farm to break the news to his family. Needless to say, they were upset that their son and brother was going to march off to war. Athol’s mother and father were also concerned at losing Athol from the farm.

Athol sailed to England on the 30th of May, 1916. He had read a lot about England when he was at school and it had intrigued him. The thought of spending some time in the mother country excited him. He was hoping to visit London and see all its sites, however this was not the case. He was dispatched to a training facility called Sling Camp in Wiltshire. Athol completed training in six weeks as a rifleman and was assigned to the 4th Battalion. In May 1917 he was sent to France where he joined his Kiwi and Australian comrades in arms; little did he know that he would take part in one of the most intense battles on the Western Front.

Athol partook in the battles of the Somme and Passchendaele, two major battles with great loss of life, including 15000 New Zealand casualties; 5000 killed at Passchendaele and 6000 casualties and 2000 killed at the Somme. New Zealand was second only to Serbia in the percentage of soldiers killed and missing in action. Athol survived both these horrendous battles, only to die seven days before the war ended at the attack on Le Quesnoy.

Whistler, British Columbia, Canada 2012

The final person to register for the tour was Philippe Bellepoire; he owned ski shops in Whistler and Blackcomb and a restaurant in Vancouver. He was a wealthy bachelor who competed in the slalom at the winter Olympics in 2002 at Salt Lake City where he came fourth. He lived at Whistler in the winter and Vancouver in the summer. Life was good for Philippe.

He had never been married but always had a beautiful girl friend on his arm. Whenever the relationship reached the stage where marriage was mentioned or intimated, Philippe quickly ended it and went looking for the next one. He certainly didn’t have to look far as he was in demand.

Philippe was very proud of his French heritage, his Great Grandfather immigrated to Quebec in 1875. His name was Henri Bellepoire and he was a wine maker from the region of Bordeaux. He decided that France was losing its way and better opportunities were “out there” somewhere. He chose Canada because Quebec was French-speaking and the way of life would better suit him, rather than the other options of America or Australia.

He established a small vineyard, growing cool climate wines from grapes such as Labrusca and V. Riparia. He worked hard and after ten years started to turn a healthy profit. He expanded the vineyard and introduced other grape varieties. By 1900, he had built a beautiful home on the property he called Chateau Bellepoire where he had a work force of more than fifteen.

In 1901 the temperance movement won their battle and prohibition was introduced to Canada. That was the end of Henri’s business, as he knew it. Rather than roll over and die Henri continued to press grapes for grape juice and to supply grapes for dried fruit production. He also started to press apples for apple juice and by 1920, his business, although not as profitable as wine production, was making a reasonable profit. He was able to keep the property and the big house on the hill.

Henri married Antoinette in 1890 and they had three children two boys and a girl. The first-born was Nicholas, the second was Antoine and the third child was Anne.

The children worked on the property part-time while they were at school, Nicholas was the son who was keen to take over the business when his father retired: young Antoine was always the rebel and had no interest in the business. His sister, Anne, had always wanted to be a schoolteacher and that was the direction she was taking. She married another schoolteacher, Jacques who subsequently enlisted in November 1916 and was sent to France to fight Britain’s war. He never discovered that he was a father but had a daughter to Anne named Marie after Jacques’ mother.

Philippe had a cousin come and stay for a week of skiing last season. She had been researching the family history and showed Philippe the family tree she had developed using Ancestory.com Her name was Marie and her Father had also enlisted and gone to war at the same time as Antoine his brother in-law. Philippe was vaguely aware that he had a Great Uncle who served in the First World War, but did not know the details. He learned that Antoine was ostracised from the family for daring to fight for Britain and its King and that he had been killed.

Philippe had no idea where or how. He decided to find out. He found the Back-Roads Touring Co’s website and decided he would take the tour.

In 1916 Antoine was twenty- one and looking for adventure. The war in Europe had been going for two years and Canada had been involved from the start. The war was unpopular in French Canada as most of the French Canadians did not want to support Britain and were not too keen about supporting France either. As a result not many volunteers came from Antoine’s neck of the woods.

This did not stop him from enlisting despite his family’s protests and on the 21st of March 1916, he became Private Bellepoire. Antoine started his basic training immediately, at Val Cartier, Quebec and endured the hard slog for six weeks. He then boarded the Andania and sailed off to England.

After an initial four-week training period at Sling Camp he, along with his Canadian brothers in arms, set foot on French soil for the first time. He took part in and died in the Third Battle of Ypres along with 4000 of his countrymen. He died at Passchendaele, a hero.