Ordinary names… but extraordinary men

COMMEMORATION SERVICE: The Battle of Gheluvelt: Act of Remembrance (Sunday October 25, Gheluvelt Park, Worcester).

LOOKING down a list of the fallen, one is immediately struck by how those names have such a familiar ring.

They’re the surnames of people you’ve known all your life. At school, just along the street, in office and factory.

It’s as if by virtue of this very sense of ordinariness that these 34 men of the Worcestershire Regiment, who died in those muddy Belgian fields all those years ago, have earned themselves no small degree of immortality. Because somehow, we know them now, always have done… and always will do.

But did I say ‘ordinary’? Well, what this band of brothers achieved – a mere 187 officers and men made the charge that sealed the broken British lines back in 1914 – was actually very extraordinary indeed. For this was the result of that action...

The Worcestershires prevented the Germans reaching the Channel ports. Ypres would never surrender, holding out for four, long years. And Europe would not be crushed under the Kaiser’s boot. This would have to wait. That was destined to come about in round two, to be held a few years later.

Oh no. For there was nothing ‘ordinary’ about these men. Led from the front by Major Edward Barnard Hankey with his sword outstretched, they charged through shot and shell towards the grounds of Gheluvelt chateau on Saturday, October 31, 1914. And – perhaps incredibly – despite all the odds, won the day, driving the Germans back.

On Sunday morning, members of the Worcester branch of the Worcestershire and Sherwood Foresters Regimental Association, their families, friends and dignitaries braved a chill north-easterly wind to pay homage to forebears who fought and died in a war now almost beyond living memory.

A short but moving service was conducted by the Rev Peter Davies, county Royal British Legion chaplain, wreaths were laid, and mayor of Worcester Councillor Tor Pingree paid tribute to the bravery and sacrifice of men who now sleep for eternity in Flanders fields.

Once again, as is the tradition at this annual ceremony, the names of the fallen were read out. It was a roll call that resonated across the park and through trees busy shedding their leaves, providing a ready metaphor for the inevitability faced by all existence.

And as the strains of Edward Elgar’s music filled the autumn air, one couldn’t help but reflect how apt it was that this celebrated son of Worcestershire should provide such a fitting requiem for fellow sons of the county… men who made the ultimate sacrifice in foreign fields all those years ago.

Yes. Ordinary names... for truly extraordinary men.