Reading this thread and as always at this time of year, I remember the story of my Gfather, which I hope you all wont mind if I write a little about him.
At just 19 years of age, he was awarded a few medals for his actions in Ww1. Mentioned in despatches, sought out by the news papers who reported his story, much to his embarrassment, and his mothers pride.
Then recommended to be promoted to the RAF, trained as a pilot but became ill with TB caught in the trenches.
Was consequently sent back to the UK because of his ill health.
He couldn't find work and eventually a group of ex soldiers, friends and comrades were so disillusioned with the lack of support when they returned home, that they marched to the largest river running through our home town and threw their medals in it.
He died after that, leaving my Gran with a young daughter to raise, on her own.
3 or four graves down from Gdads, is the white headstone of a private, seems as if no one visits, he died at 21 years of age. I like to put some sprigs of rosemary on his grave when I visit the cemetery, in remembrance.
