Love and War

The thirty-third Covid blog.🍁 Remembrance Sunday

Today is the Sunday we remind ourselves of the supreme sacrifice, of those that gave and continue to give their lives, in the cruel conflict of war.

It was said this week in kindness, that I am someone who looks at the world through ‘rose tinted glasses’ it is true that I do try to find the rainbows. I am indeed someone who is always affected, when faced with the harsh reality of man’s inhumanity.

I have in my life (as have we all) faced and dealt with difficult and unkind situations and sometimes from the most unexpected of avenues.

The paths we follow continue to change and as one who once feared change, I now find I adapt and yield far easier than before. I have begun to realise that looking from a different perspective can be incredibly cathartic.

We never know where life will send us and this has been true throughout the history of mankind.

Private Edwards would not have known, that these words you read, could not have been written had he not given his life for others in service.
However, the most important and beautiful legacy he gave, as he died in his friends arms, was the gift of love.

Private Eacott was a soldier in ‘The Kent Regiment’ when he met Private Edwards, they served together in The Great War. They shared stories of their former lives, of their family and friends and no doubt shared the fear and horror of the atrocities they faced daily.

Private Edwards was shot on the battlefield and died in Private Eacott’s arms. He asked of one thing, that should his friend survive, he would check on his widow. Tell her how much he loved her and their child whom he would never see grow up. A baby daughter named Carrie. He asked that he would make sure they were always safe and well.

Private Eacott was as good as his word. When given leave, he visited Caroline Edwards and their baby daughter Carrie. Private Eacott passed on his fellow comrade’s last words, that of his enduring love and his wish, that he would make sure of their welfare.

Caroline was eager to hear of her husband; his life, his thoughts, and his friendship with Private Eacott. So, he continued to visit Caroline whenever his leave permitted. These frequent, poignant, visits, eventually blossomed, from a promise of duty into friendship and then finally, these roots began to grow into the beautiful flowers of love.

Albert Henry Eacott was my Grandad, ‘Pop’ and talked with fondness in our family. A kind man of principles, a man of humour, of a friend who kept a promise.

Pop proposed, they married and my Grandad adopted Carrie as his own, he was the only ‘Pop’ she ever knew. They then went on to have three children together; Edith, Albert and Reginald.

Reginald the youngest child, is my Dad and the rest as they say, is history…

I always think about Private Edwards at this time of year and particularly when I teach ‘War Poetry.’ I always tell his story and when I do, you can usually hear a pin drop.

These stories are important for us to share, especially as the gap ever widens. For without, we would not be here and these men would not have the chance to live on and be heard.

In this eleventh month, on the eleventh day and on the eleventh hour, I will remember the man who gave his life that I might live. I will give thanks for him and his kin and for those around the world who continue to fight man’s abhorrent inhumanity to man.

The glasses I wear today are smeared, but through the cracks that rose tint shines, it shines with love and thanks to ‘my’ hero:

Private Edwards❤️

‘Lest We Forget’

With Gratitude and Love,

Joy xxx