A while back I posted an article from the Bucks Free Press which quoted an account I’d written about going to find my great uncle’s grave in Bangladesh. Here it is (below), but in summary — My great uncle Lewis died in WW2 in the Far East, and my grandfather (his younger brother) had long wanted to visit his grave, so my father and I accompanied him on a multi-generational trip —
Anyway, a curious coda to that. Our summer holidays in France went for a burton this year, along with many other people’s, so we decided to salve the disappointment of our kids by booking them onto a week’s film making course at Dulwich College. Have been going there twice a day this week (pick up and drop off), and the place triggered vague memories that one of my relatives had been a pupil there. My grandmother (99 and going strong) confirmed this, saying it was her late brother-in-law, Lewis, who was the Dulwich old boy. As we arrived at the school early today (minimal traffic), my kids and I went to the war memorial to take a look before the course began, and would you believe it… another multi-generational discovery of Lewis’s name. (NB Lewis is also my middle name, so the guy seems omnipresent, somehow) —
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