Twelve men are named on the war memorial opposite the church. It is sited in a spot that was once the corner of the garden where Private Joseph Brindley played as a child before he turned seventeen and joined the marines. I had the honour to read his diary and to see the hole in its pages that marked the track of the bullet that killed him at the beginning of September 1918. I can only imagine the grief that his family must have suffered when they unwrapped the parcel that arrived containing his dress uniform, trench periscope and diary.
Tomorrow normal blogging will resume – today though, here are a few pictures of poppies:
