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 A Visit to Guillemont Road Cemeteryby Helen Charlesworth
I wrote my poem The Visit after one particular trip to Guillemont Road cemetery. My family and I were walking amongst the gravestones, noticing the little things - like how the rose bush on the 'unknown Sherwood Forester' died 17/07/16 had grown since the last time we had visited.
Which if any of them were my husband's uncle - Pte John James, killed in action during a bout of heavy shelling on the night of 17th July. The Sherwoods held a part of the line between Trones Wood and Maltz Horn Farm. A German bomb gave a direct hit on his part of the trench - nothing more was ever heard of John James, the former 20 year old box factory worker from Nottingham.
James Fennel Warner. He'd been in the 15th Sherwoods same as John James. At least his family have a grave to visit...if that's any comfort. I hope he's pleased that we made contact with his grandson Jim. He made his first visit to the Somme last year to visit his grandfather's grave ... Warner's visitor came.
Private Thomas Christmas, a Londoner aged 39 and Private HJ Claus still raised a smile on our faces as they lay resting, either end of one aisle (were they buried in the same aisle deliberately?) both dying on 28th August 1918 - so very close to the end of the war. Had they been through the whole war? Had they fought in both battles of the Somme? So many questions I'd like to ask them.
Suddenly the friendly banter between myself and the soldiers stopped. A 'tours of the battlefields' coach pulled up (we sighed - knowing what was coming) the amiable guide, who never tires of telling the same tales of heroism and bravery over and over again to eager listeners, led his party straight to the grave of Raymond Asquith - son of the then Prime Minister. He gave his usual spiel abot Asquith, Wyndham-Tennant (poet - famous for 'Home thoughts from Laventine') and Noel Chavasse - who deservedly won his VC (and bar) for bravery in bringing in wounded men.
The guide then offered the visitors a few moments (literally) to have a look around the cemetery. They walked along the aisle where Asquith and Tennant were. One chap ventured a little further afield then quickly trotted back as he saw the others returning to the tour bus - ready to see the next place of interest on their trip.
I was just so sad that all these men are ignored - many thousands NEVER having had a visitor - but each one equal in life as in death - a human being who had died for his country.
Every cemetery I go to I wander through the unknown graves remembering that each unknown was a someone - a someone very dear to many people. How desperately sad to think of the tears that were shed for him and anguish and sorrow his death caused his family - How would they have felt if they had known that their 'man' would be forgotten in decades to come because he was just another 'unknown'.
 If you ever visit Guillemont - you will notice the grass has worn thinner around the aisle where Asquith is buried and little wooden crosses are dotted around on nearby graves by well meaning visitors. No disrespect to the visitors, and the tour guides who do a wonderful job - I just wish the visitors could spend a little more time visiting the graves of 'unknown soldiers'. I'm sure they know you've been, and appreciate you stopping by!
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