A Moment of Remembrance

To mark the 100 year centenary of the end of the First World War and the famous Christmas truce of 1914, I wanted to share this moment of remembrance, looking back across the lands of time to the time of my great-grandfather, great-granduncle, and many millions more like them, as I begin my own journey into the realm of family history…

A war memorial from the village of Downton, one of several villages where my father’s family resided for around 400 years or so before moving. (Photo credit: Me).

A war memorial from the village of Downton, one of several villages where my father’s family resided for around 400 years or so before moving. (Photo credit: Me).

On the 9th June 1915, my great-grandfather, Mr. William Bernard Bundy (whom I was named after) signed up for the Royal Artillery Reserve Garrison of the East Yorkshire regiment. He would have been 27 years old and would have only been living in Hull for perhaps a few years at most.

His younger brother, Mr. Henry Frank Bundy, was to depart for France as part of the 129th Co. of the Royal Engineers as part of General Lord Kitcheners Second Army, on the 31st August 1915 from Southhampton, and would not see the UK again.

He had signed up in Doncaster, having come from the small town of Bamford in Derbyshire, where my great-great-grandfather, Mr. Charles Bundy had moved the family after originally coming up from Wiltshire, where he was born in Redlynch, in 1856. The family had moved from Gravesend, Kent, to the Isle of Wight where my great-grandfather and my great-granduncle had both been born in Wellow, in 1887 and 1890 respectively. The family then moved around to Bradford, West Yorkshire; Ludlow, Shropshire and then to Derbyshire, sometime in the late 1890s/early 1900s, or thereabouts.

William had moved to Hull sometime in the early 1910s after meeting his future wife, Ms. Violet Swatman, whom he married in 1911, and would later come to settle in East Hull and the village of Sproatley, just outside, where he remained for the rest of his life. His younger brother and other siblings remained in Derbyshire and would remain in the general area, including in nearby Sheffield for the decades to come (as far as I know).

Henry's life in the Royal Engineers was brutal. They were force-marched up the coast from Le Harve where they landed, and were then sent to the battlegrounds; seeing action at the Somme, as well as other engagements in the brutal arena that was the First World War.

Being a sapper, Henry's life would have been spent marching from one area to the next before digging underground tunnels with no knowledge of where the enemy would come from next. Lit by lights and operating in humid conditions with a sense of potential danger around the corner, I can only imagine what it was like for him and the other sappers who worked alongside him, and can only extend my hand through history to thank him and the multitude of millions who fought and died in the war to end all wars.

He died on the 26th June 1917, near the camp located at Dikkebus, south of Ypres, and is buried at the Lijssenthoek Military Cemetery, near Poperinge, which I had the great honour to visit on the 27th June 2017, just over 100 years on from his death.

A man by the name of Mr. John Sutherland, associated with the Hull People's Memorial, and his lovely wife Marianne (also from East Hull, coincidentally) took me there to pay my respects, and it was a deeply humbling and moving experience. To know he was nearly the same age as me at the time of his death was incredibly moving, and I reflected back on him and the millions of others who died in this bloody conflict.

Several of the men buried next to him were from regiments in Yorkshire, including one from the East Yorkshire regiment, and men he would have likely known and been friends with. Their names were Private F. Gant (West Yorkshire Regiment) and Private E. Dixon (East Yorkshire Regiment). A fellow sapper by the name of C.J. Over MM. is also buried next to him as well as a gunner by the name of George Pile Watts, from the Royal Garrison Artillery, and I have included the pictures in the gallery at the bottom of the page.

Around the edge of the cemetery itself, there are fence posts representing each day of the war, with notches on them displaying how many were killed on those days - a poignant reminder of the daily toll this conflict took on those who fought it.

The posts of memory (I could not get a better view, unfortunately, but you can hopefully see the white marks on the bottom, which represent the number of soldiers killed on each day). (Photo Credit: Me).

The posts of memory (I could not get a better view, unfortunately, but you can hopefully see the white marks on the bottom, which represent the number of soldiers killed on each day). (Photo Credit: Me).

I came away from the experience deeply moved, and glad to have paid my respects in this manner (such as it was). I had taken an overnight crossing from Hull to Zeebrugge, whereupon a coach driver took us to Ypres, where Mr. Sutherland picked me up from. A beautiful place, Ypres was where I uncovered a missing and vital part of a puzzle that had eluded me thus far. After paying a visit to the Menin Gate, on the suggestion of Mr. Sutherland, I stumbled across a shop selling World War I memorabilia. Intrigued, I ventured inside and began talking to the owner of the shop, who ironically enough was a Canadian gentleman.

My great-granduncle had served with the 2nd Canadian Division during the war, and after talking to the gentleman in question, he helped me to pinpoint where it's likely he was killed with the help of diaries that he possessed in CD form of all the regiments at the time. This CD he told me, normally cost $400.00, but he looked through to the period of my great-granduncles death and kindly printed off the relevant pages at no extra cost. I was extremely moved and grateful for this and bought a book on the history of the Ypres region during the war as a small gesture of my appreciation.

Later on in the evening and during our crossing back home, I began talking to a very kind lady whom I had met before on the crossing and who was in Hull and the surrounding areas for the City of Culture Celebrations. She was from Bedfordshire, where, ironically, I’ve been able to trace the family line beyond Wiltshire. She very kindly helped me to translate the sometimes illegible diary entries and to form more of an idea of the circumstances surrounding the companies movements and what may have been the engagement(s) during which my great-granduncle was killed.

Please note that these entries are taken directly from our attempts at translation and have been left as they are, with notes to indicate which parts could not be translated and entries in bold where it is possible he was mortally wounded, at least with the evidence available. They are as follows…

18th: Number one section moved to advanced billets for work on road. Lieutenant Dean plus second front hunton, joined the company from Kent (FR) (TF).

19th: Work continued on road, but interrupted by shelling. Parties for work in support trenches were unable to reach them.

20th: 17th infantry brigade, revealed 77th infantry BDE, work continued as above. Shell fell near camp and caseline. 103 and 104th field companies were obliged to move out temporarily. Joe D to formal billets.

21st: Number 2 section returned to camp and number 4 proceeded to advanced billets. 2 OR wounded whilst they were working on the road.

22: LT Hunter proceeded to advanced billets. Artillery bombardment, heavy with HP and shrapnel over camp. All [illegible] moving, but no causalities moved.

23rd: LT Alderson, and 64 sappers proceeded to rest camp, Albetuse. Road on road to Knoll farm was stopped for lack of men. Work proceeded on sapper lines and mule tracks to forward area from Knoll farm.

24th: Work as 23rd, on the road to Northam, then proceeded on mule track to sapper area.

25th: Captain Marvin proceeded to Ambletuse to take command of a composite company of RE from the three divisional companies. Sargent Day and two other ranks wounded in sapper line during the night. Captain Rogers killed.*

26th: Camp shelled at 2:15am, horses removed and men put in dugouts. No casualties. Received instructions to guard our work in line to 128th field company regiment. on 28th June.

27th: Work as usual. Heavy shelling at spoil point (advanced billets). Cook wounded.

28th: 1 and 2 sections relieved at advanced billets by 128th field regiment and returned to camp.

29th: All parties returned to camp. Lieutenant LT, forwarded with transport to Caistra, together with transport of other field companies.

30th: Company dismounted parties, proceeded by bus to Blaringhem, settled in billets. [Illegible] or so arrived, gun support also arrived in the afternoon. [Illegible] else had difficulty in passing a [illegible] of 47th division on a narrow road.


I remain immensely grateful this kind lady for helping to translate these entries and the gentleman from Ypres who very kindly gave me the information in the first place, and although I cannot, unfortunately, remember your names, if by any chance you do read this, then please do reach out! It would be lovely to hear from you, and I came away from the trip feeling incredibly grateful at being able to do it and pay my respects to the only family member I know who was killed during the conflict.

My great-grandfather survived, and as to whether he saw action in the conflict, I do not know for sure, but I do know he was involved in repairing the gun carriages as part of his duties with the Royal Artillery, and I hope to find out more about him over time. In the next blog, I will journey more into the past and further examine our family history…but not before examining those moments on the 11th hour, of the 11th day, of the 11th month, when our thoughts go out and reach across the lands of time to meet with those who fought in Europe, all those many years ago…

Two Minutes of Moments

By William Bundy

On a cold November morning, millions are frozen in time.

Two minutes of moments forming up the line.

No Mans Land stretches out before us, the impossible dividing line.

Over which no soul can cross, to journey back in time.

All we have are thoughts and feelings many.

To honour the dead who gave up plenty, so that we may lead our lives full and not empty.

To them, we salute and wear our poppies proud.

Gazing up to the sky, where angels once walked on the ground.

Millions they died, but not in vain.

Marching into eternity and leaving prosperity lain.

For the flowers of Flanders fields do grow to remind us.

Of a sacrifice that was made to form and unite us.

For that, we are thankful and sing our praises loud.

For if they can hear us then we may yet be thankful.

As they are the ones who fought and died.

To let us lead our lives by principal and example.

Dedicated to the fallen, whose memories live on through us and the many beautiful poppies that grow at Flanders and blossom close to our hearts.

My Great-granduncle (photo credit: John Sutherland).

My Great-granduncle (photo credit: John Sutherland).

The Photo gallery below is comprised of two images at the beginning, taken by myself, and the rest taken by Mr. Sutherland under his own direction, and who provided an invaluable service on this trip, along with his lovely wife Marianne, who I am forever indebted to.

Edit: some alterations have been made to the text, including the fact that my great-granduncle died on the 26th June, as I do not know exactly when he was killed, and also to address minor errors here and there and add more detailed information about those buried alongside my great-granduncle. The above photos have also been changed to a slideshow presentation in order to show them in better detail.

Additional edit: “Lenin Gate” has been corrected to “Nenin Gate” after being informed of the misspelling by a friend.

Additional edit: Have revised the article to correct the style of the writing and to correct some additional mistakes.

Additional edit: Have revised the article to correct some additional mistakes and “Nenin Gate” has been corrected to “Menin Gate”.