Hello everybody, I am posting this early as I am not that well at the moment, so please forgive me if I am not about, not sure how long it's going to be. I do hope to visit your blogs even if I can't post for a bit...
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This Sunday, I am remembering my great uncle, my mother's young uncle: Flying Officer Peter Blackham,who died in France at the age of 21 on the 8th of July 1944, husband for just three weeks.
He was the pilot of the plane (a Lancaster bomber) that was shot down that night near Ecquevilly, just a few kilometres west of Paris. Aboard were four Canadian airmen and three British airmen. Only one of them survived, Sergeant Murrie who was saved by the villagers who hid him quickly. He is standing in front of the graves in the picture below during a memorial service in 1995. It was quite unusual for airmen or soldiers to be buried in a French cemetery and not in a war cemetery, but local people took the poor airmen to heart, buried them in their cemetery and have cared for their graves ever since. We had a hard time finding my great uncle's grave before internet came into fashion, but with a few exchanges of letters, we managed to eventually make my mother's wish to visit her uncle's last resting place and lay flowers at all of the graves. It was with contentment that she wrote a thank you letter to the local mayor for keeping the graves so well tended. My great grandmother stood in that very spot as she was taken there after the war, but the address was lost.
This Sunday is Remembrance Sunday. He would have been 89 years old and be possibly alive, but he died so young for King and country. He fought for a better place, a place where people can be free, happy and safe...
... remembering and thinking of, all those who have served and are serving now.