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The poignant Remembrance Service, held
at the War Memorial on Friday 11th November was attended by
approximately 45 people. This was the second consecutive year
that Reverend Cumberlidge had conducted the service of remembrance
here and the resulting increase in the number of parishioners
attending, proves beyond doubt that this service has, for
a long while, been a much missed part of village life here
in East Garston. |
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Terry Butler, Princess
of Wales Regiment |
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Squadron Leader Ian Ponsford |
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Air Vice Marshal David
Hills |
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occasion was graced by very distinguished former servicemen
resplendent in their medals and insignia, including: lan Ponsford,
former Squadron Leader in the RAF, a spitfire pilot, awarded
the D.F.C. and the A.F.C. (Distinguished Flying Cross and
Air Force Cross) David Hills, former Air Vice Marshal, who
served with the RAF Medical Branch in the Far East, awarded
Order of St John, Companion of The Bath and the O.B.E. in
1965. The Kohema Epitaph was given by Terry Butler who formally
served with the Princess of Wales Regiment in the The Falklands,
Germany and Northern Ireland |
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Reverend Tony Cumberlidge |
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Lieutenant
Commander Norton Lee RN
(photo Sally
Wright) |
Reverend Tony Cumberlidge, former
chaplain with the Royal Army Chaplains' Department who served
in Germany, Cyprus, Northern Ireland and Bosnia and Norton
Lee, former Lieutenant Commander in the Royal Navy, took part
in combined operations in the Mediterranean, Normandy and
in Holland, awarded D.S.C. (Distinguished Service Cross).
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(photo Sally Wright)
The British legion
poppies were laid by Squadron Leader Ponsford and the Parish
council wreath by Christopher Tonge.
Laurence Binyon's words were spoken by PC Matthew Clayton
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A Nation Remembers |
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A Village Remembers |
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Personal remembrance |
| Remembrance
by
Margaret Leith Minter |
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In every town and village square,
we offer up a silent prayer;
for those who sleep on foreign strand,
where lonely, pristine crosses stand.
We remember them.
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They left their fishing nets unwound,
their ploughs and harrows in the ground;
and marched away with heads held high,
not thinking some of them would die.
We remember them.
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Father,
brother, lover, son,
why were they taken one by one?
As pipers play a sad refrain,
we hear the gunfire once again.
We remember them.
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With
passing years, our memories fade,
but we recall the price they paid.
We still remember them.
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Text
Sally Wright and Ken Tarbox, : Poem - Margaret Leith Minter
Research - Sally Wright
Photos - Ken Tarbox |
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