Open Writing

The British remember the end of World war One on Armistice Day, November eleventh each year, when, at eleven o’clock in the morning, the nation pauses to observe a two-minute silence. The nearest Sunday to that date is hallowed as Remembrance Sunday. But one man stands apart from the rest of the nation.

Henry John Patch, known as Harry to his mates, has a special reason for memorialising a different day, "My Remembrance Day is on the twenty-second of September when I lost three mates."

Harry is the last surviving British veteran to fight in the trenches of the First World War, and although he was feted as the guest of honour at a recent Poppy Day launch, he did not wish to claim any honour for himself, but rather he redirect it to those of his fellow-combatants who did not survive the conflict, or who survived it with permanent disabilities.

"Today is not for me," he said. "It is for the countless millions who did not come home with their lives intact. They are the heroes." With the universal generosity and understanding common to soldiers who have endured appalling battles, he added, "It is also important we remember those who lost their lives on both sides."

In July this year he visited a War Cemetery in Flanders. Gazing at row on row of grave markers where lie fallen comrades-in-arms, he contemplated sadly, "Any one of them could have been me. Millions of men came to fight in this war and I find it incredible that I am the only one left." Patch said war was the "calculated and condoned slaughter of human beings" adding, "war isn't worth one life."

Patch was called up to serve in the Duke of Cornwall's Light Infantry and fought from the doubtful security of water-filled foot-rotting trenches, and in the blood and horror of hand to hand battles in ‘No Man’s Land’ at Ypres. From his own experience, he insists, "If any man tells you he went over the top and he wasn't scared, he's a damn liar!"

In the midst of one battle, Harry stood face to face with a young German infantryman. His first thought was the commandment, ‘thou shalt not kill,’ in consequence of which he couldn't bring himself to kill the German. Instead, he shot to wound twice, once above his knee and again in his ankle. "I had about five seconds to make the decision. I brought him down, but I didn't kill him," said Harry.

In 2004, Harry had an emotional meeting with Charles Kuentz, then a one hundred and eight year old German Army veteran, who had fought in the Battle of Passchendaele, in Belgium, also called the Third Battle of Ypres, in which Harry fought. They had likely faced each other across the lines of battle, and Harry admits to mixed feelings when told about the meeting:

"I was a bit doubtful before meeting a German soldier. Herr Kuentz is a very nice gentleman however. He is all for a united Europe and peace – and so am I".

Besides the British War and Victory Medals, he was awarded the British National Service Medal, the Hors de Combat Medal for outstanding bravery after being critically wounded, and was awarded the Légion d'Honneur by the French government for his service in the liberation of France.

Harry has had plenty of time to contemplate the horrors of war since, at the age of one hundred and nine, he is the only one of three surviving WWI veterans, and the only survivor of those who fought on the Western Front.

In his quiet moments after the day’s activities are over, Harry sits alone and revisits the muddy stretches of wasteland that for three inhuman months swallowed up the lives of three quarters of a million young men from both sides whose corpses had fallen in the field where Death held sway until the battle was won. It was won, but, Harry ponders, at what cost in human life and suffering?

Those that were not shot or bayoneted to death, sank to drown in the marshy slime that swallowed up the new armoured fighting vehicles, tanks, as easily as if they had been slabs of rock falling into a lake.

The immense number of the dead attest to the folly of Field Marshall Haig’s military strategy of waging a brutal war of attrition against well fortified entrenchments in the belief that they would surrender after "one more push."

Harry Patch fought also at Rouen, where he wore the coveted brass badge of the Lewis Machine Gunner on his sleeve. It was known, he said, as 'the suicide badge', because of the belief that Germans shot captured Lewis Gunners in retribution for those of their own soldiers who succumbed to their spray of doom.

After news of the full horrors of the battle reached home, the name Passchendaele entered the British psyche as a definition for hardship uncomplainingly withstood, sacrifice over and beyond the call of duty, unquestioned courage, and widespread slaughter unequalled in the annals of military history.

Private Patch’s private Remembrance Day was established on the night of the twenty-second day of September in the year nineteen-seventeen when, after four months on the western front, just as the five members of his Lewis Gun team emerged from the trenches to make their way to the rear lines, a German shell burst above them.

Three of the party were killed outright, and Harry, aged nineteen, suffered a serious shrapnel wound. By the time his wounds were healed, the War had mercifully been brought to a close. Ever since, he has held that tragic day as a special remembrance to the memory of his three dear comrades who did not return from the savagery.

Reflecting on Passchendaele, Patch remembers the ubiquitous and treacherous mud, even above deafening noise of the guns, it is the deadly mud that typifies that place for him because it added mightily to the death, suffering, and heroism. He stated, "It was mud, mud and more mud mixed together with blood."

He also remembers being afraid of uncertainty, explaining, "When you went over the top you didn't know if the next shell or bullet would be yours. All for a shilling and sixpence a day!"

Asked about his thoughts on dying he told how during one charge at the enemy’s trenches he came across a severely injured soldier who begged him to kill him to end his terrible suffering. While he was getting ready to accede to his request the boy died, exclaiming as he expired the solitary word 'Mother!' It was, said Harry Patch, "A cry not of pain, but of surprise and joy," as if he was seeing his mother waiting to embrace him, and, since then, death has held no fears for Harry.

There is no way in which those who made such great sacrifices can be properly honoured, except by our guarantee that we will not forget them, and that we do all we can to ensure that young lives are not snuffed out in unnecessary wars, due either to the actions of adventuresome politicians, or through the incompetence of their military leaders.

As we celebrate Armistice Day and remembrance Sunday this eleventh day of November two thousand and seven, let us remember Harry and his heroes, and those on all sides who stand up when their particular countries call them to arms, and may we struggle for peace as hard and as long as they fought for victory and freedom.

When we stand on Remembrance Sunday in our congregations, let us meditate on the inspiring words of Lawrence Binyon from his poem, ‘For The Fallen’ that sound every years from pulpits of every faith in every clime:

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

And let us echo that promise by saying aloud, in affirmation of our commitment to remember those who consecrated their lives for our sakes,

We will remember them!

Copyright © 2007

Craftsman Ronnie Bray – Royal Electrical & Mechanical Engineers 1952 – 1955
Lance Corporal Ronnie Bray – Royal Armoured Corps – 1958 – 1960