New Trilogy

REMEMBRANCE OF WARS - ARMAGEDDON ANTICIPATED

Shall they return to greeting of great bells

in wild train-loads?

A few, a few, too few for drums and yells

may creep back, silent, to still village wells

up half-known roads.

The Commemoration & Remembrance of the Blaisdon villagers who gave their lives in the two Great Wars was held on the nearest Sunday to 11th November. The village War Memorial is situated opposite The Lodge - an impressive gated arched dwelling - forming the main entrance - to the drive which leads to Blaisdon Hall. Directly facing the War Memorial is a life-size crucifix set in a rising bank. Down this approximately quarter of a mile way, The Salesian School Army Cadet Force and school brass band marched from the Hall entrance for the annual Parade & Remembrance Ceremony.

Protocol gave precedence to the villager’s observance at the Memorial and the Church of England Vicar had led their Service of Dedication at the Eleventh Hour. The usual 10.30. am Parish Solemn High Mass was celebrated earlier in the Hall chapel and the cadet squad was ordered to “Fall In!” at 11.00. am sharp on the drive outside the boy’s refectory. The cadet force Sergeant, depending on which year, would have been Freddy Cove, Derek Reilling, Sam Hayes or Peter Caine. Uniformed Father William Boyd was local Commanding Officer (delegated) assisted by lay-Brothers Charles O’Donnell and Thomas Docherty: both wearing navy blue Civil Defence uniform. We, who owed our lives to The Fallen and Spam - Special Processed Argentine Meat -- were totally reliant on them in the event of the Four Minute Waning which was to precede an atom, hydrogen or nuclear bomb being dropped on 1950’s Gloucestershire.

Father George Hilton in army Chaplain uniform with 2nd World War decorations officiated. He waited within the front hall. A pre-inspection was completed by Fr. Boyd. The evening before had been passed in assiduous blancoing of belts and gaiters and brassoing of buttons, badges and belt clips. With the brass band and choir grouped under the tower entrance all was ready for the arrival of the Honorary Commanding Officer: Colonel Forde ( Retired) - The Gloucester Regiment.

Soon, in visible distance down the drive a long open staff car driven by a uniformed army chauffeur came into view and drew up at the Hall entrance. The band led by Father Francis Rodgers (Choirmaster) and conducted by Fr. John Connolly (Prefect of Studies) struck up and to the tune of Wilkomen Fr. Hilton descended the steps, saluted and welcomed Colonel Forde as the honour guard - escorting the colour party of the Union Jack and Papal flag — presented arms with .303 Lee Enfield rifles. His inspection complete, the Colonel then pinned poppies on each cadet and retuned to his car where he was joined by Fathers Boyd & Hilton. The military precision of everything was very impressive. Colonel Forde signalled with his baton and the march to the village cenotaph began. At this point the Hall car driven by Bro. Alan Garman - in Civil Defence uniform - containing Father James Docherty (Prefect of Religion) wearing his black tasselled biretta and assisted by 3 boy servers, thurifer and two acolytes, went ahead.

With the Sergeant leading the two-abreast squad and wielding a brass tipped staff the squad wheeled left to pass the staff car. At that precise moment the band struck up Colonel Bogey and the squad at the command, “Eyes Right!” passed Col. Forde who rose and acknowledged the salute. Responding then to the command, “Quick March!” the squad and Band followed by Brothers Charles and Thomas, with the staff car party bringing up the rear, continued down the drive. At a respectable distance all remaining “civilians” i.e., priests, brothers, boys and distinguished visitors followed in procession. When this group got to the bridle path about 500 yards down the drive they peeled off and cut through the park to assemble near the Lodge: Brother Gerald Clifton (Sacristan) carrying the ornate tasselled processional parasol shepherded the choir.

Meanwhile, the cadet force marched on towards the village. On their left flank the marchers passed the gentle upward sweep of Cinder Hill: a perfect battlefield in a general’s dream. Soon the turning at the lily pond and the great almost leafless sycamores and horse-chestnut trees was reached and in sight of the village church the Sergeant called a halt. Four buglers then sounded Reveille. From here the Lodge was visible and the squad proceeded in slow march to muted drumbeat and came to attention just beyond the arch to allow Col. Forde’s party to stop directly under its shelter.

Calling the squad to attention the Sergeant ordered “Present Arms!” and Col. Forde completed another inspection. Fr. Boyd and Fr. Hilton stood to attention each holding a wreath. Fr. Docherty led the prayers and sprinkled holy water assisted by the servers dressed in red cassocks and white cotters. Their candles flared briefly in the breeze, guttered and died. The band played Abide with Me as Col. Forde accepted the wreaths from both Chaplains and laid them at chest height on the Memorial alongside those of the villagers.

Through the fresh green laurel leaves entwined with red poppies that formed the wreaths the names of the remembered villagers stood out:

Sheep gazed inquisitively through the Memorial’s ironwork and a. ram stared intently at the sheepskin that cushioned the big bass drum slung from the drum major’s shoulders. The bullocks pastured in the park had charged alongside the railings in the footsteps of the band prancing and cavorting in great excitement. Now stamping about hidden by a clump of rhododendrons they added their own unique chorus. Even they however, observed the Minute’s Silence. Then to the bugle call of the Last Post they renewed their bellowing contribution rising to a crescendo as the band accompanied the choir in The National Anthem.

The villagers had gathered to observe at this point where three public lanes converged. The local policeman - his bicycle resting against the post office wall - controlled the rare passing car with black and white sleeve chevrons waving and contrasting somberly with the colourful uniforms. The two small children of George Austin, resident Blaisdon Hall landscape gardener, with his wife Beryl, peeped from the small window over the Lodge Arch. Then, with a final presenting of arms and general salute Col. Forde returned to his official vehicle and departed up the lane in the direction of Hinder’s Corner accompanied by Fathers Boyd and Hilton. They were destined for The Gloucester Regimental Headquarters and further official duties; Innsworth R.A.F. base and Patchworth military camp respectively. The nearby church bell tolled; the Angelus bell rang out from the tower of Blaisdon Hall and the mournful whistle from a good’s train passing under the bridge at Blaisdon Halt echoed through the village.

Presently, Brothers Charles and Thomas took command and “At Ease!” led the procession back to the Hall where all were stood down and lunch was taken. In the afternoon the military atmosphere was maintained as the House Teams: Alban, Fisher, Becket and More played football against each other as The Army v The Navy and The RAF v The Royal Marines on the sloping park pitches. The, la crème de la crème, of the cadets and band members played at Harvey’s manicured flat playing field against a crack team from the priests and brothers or the Oratory which was formed from young adults living in the villages of Blaisdon, Longhope, Flaxley and Huntley.

While most were unaware, a few boys spotted the Civil Defence members of staff climbing into a tarpaulin covered lorry and leaving down the back drive; speculation was that they were heading for hush-hush exercises deep in the Forest of Dean or a secret bunker beneath nearby Nottswood Hill.

The day came to a close with a full house of priests, lay-brothers, villagers and boys in the wooden concert hall — a former army hut — where a patriotic film such as “The Charge of the Light Brigade” with Errol Flynn or “in Which We Serve” starring Noel Coward.

1 am indebted to Roger Etherington - a lifelong Blaisdon village resident -whose family home is The Forge, for providing me with the names inscribed on the War Memorial. I had contacted him about Blaisdon Remembrance Sunday in which I included a poem by Wilfred Owen, whose words from the final stanza of The Send-Off begin this memoir.

I conclude with a personal effort to sum up in poetry the emotions I feel as my mind goes back to those days in Blaisdon during the 1950s when the villagers - who never returned from the two Great World Wars - were remembered.