Lest we forget

East Sussex County Council funded a website to bring together the stories, newspaper articles and posters from WW1. So many stories of individual sacrifices and of local places. For example the blue plaques commemorating the West Indian Soldiers which can be seen at Seaford Station and at the cemetery in Alfriston Road, Seaford Gas Chamber, the WW1 rifle range at Newhaven, Newhaven Seaplane base, Polegate Royal Naval Airship Station amongst many.

The website http://www.eastsussexww1.org.uk/your-stories/index.html is well worth visiting.

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Kevin Gordon, local historian, has published many stories about Sussex during WW1 and WW2.

One story amongst very many is the story of Postman George Martin (1908-1976) who lived in Seaford, Sussex.  During the Second World War he was a volunteer fire-warden and ran the Seaford branch of Toc-H, a Christian organisation which helped visiting servicemen. He witnessed the build up of troops in Seaford prior to the Dieppe Raid of 19th August 1942 and the D-Day landings of 6th June 1944.  The link to the article can be found at https://sussexhistory.net/2020/06/06/preparations-for-the-dieppe-raid-and-the-d-day-landings/

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Poppies

The Royal British Legion have produced an article detailing 11 things you may not know about the Poppy that so many of us choose to wear. The article can be found here.

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For the Fallen

by Laurence Binyon

With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.

Solemn the drums thrill: Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres.
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England’s foam.

But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;

As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain,
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.