This is digressing quite a bit, (and isn't it great when that happens?) Actually, I don't think there are any rules that say blogs must stick to one thing! Lol. My second cousin Jan - I think she is my second cousin; I find those relationships hard to figure out - her mother and my mother were cousins anyway. And I always just thought of Jan and her sister as my cousins when we were growing up. Jan posted a comment back on the blog entry about Ypres and Passchendaele. Her maternal grandfather, George Scott, fought at Passchendaele and lost his sight. George was the older brother of my maternal grandfather Robert (Bob) Scott. I have very slight memories of George being talked about, but they are quite hazy memories at best. Partly because the war was rarely talked about - that goes for WWII as well of course - and also because George died in the 30s, a good many years before I was born. I know that Grandad Scott was quite a good rugby player, and it would seem that George was too, as you can see that he was invited to a rugby dinner in Paris during the war. That would have been quite exciting for the chaps! In fact, it is very probable that he actually played for the New Zealand Army team against the French Army team. That would have been amazing. A family sporting honour that I had no idea about. It's interesting to read the handwritten name too - they must have all had nicknames, because as far as I can work out, Le Poilu G. Scott means the Hairy G. Scott! For me, this is a wonderful little piece of family history that has popped up because of my visit to Paschendaele. Perhaps my strong emotional connection to such places is starting to make sense now. Not that it necessarily had to; it just felt like being a New Zealander. (Grandad Snook fought at Gallipoli - had I mentioned that?) Coming to France has been amazing in many different ways.
4 comments:
How interesting to find all that out about your family history! Actually, the term 'poilu' doesn't mean that your uncle was particularly hairy - well, no more hairy than any of the other soldiers! It was a general nickname given to French soldiers during WW1. Perhaps they didn't know what his rank was.
Ah! That explains it then. Jan thought it meant Soldier, and in a way I guess it did. But he wasn't a French soldier!
I also suppose it was something along the lines of soldiers being called Tommy, or Digger, or whatever.....
precious information -- all these tidbits about family mean so much to me, and I LOVE reading about them with others. What a handsome man, too -- he looks kind of impish, like he'd be good at poker and could hold his whiskey!
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