Wednesday 25 April 2012: WW1 German Bugle
My Grandfather served in WW1. I never met him but I've thought a lot about him throughout my life.
He was a Signalman and we know he fought at Passchendaele and the Somme. Like most others he didn't talk about the war. We've seen photos of both battles and read accounts. Both were an unimaginable horror.
Granddad returned with this bugle he took from a dead German. It was always bent and battered. As a child I could mangle a few notes out of it.
These days it is silent. Granddad's great grandchildren played with it and somewhere along the line the internal part shaped for creating sound has been lost.
I don't think Granddad would mind. I'm sure he'd be delighted to see his family enjoying the freedom he fought with and enjoying lives of fullness.
The bugle will never leave the family and I in turn will pass it on to one of nephews or neices. It carries a history we don't know yet are shaped by.
Mum and Dad have a photo of Granddad in his uniform. He's just a boy. There is no way he was 18 years old. He returned a man.
Granddad, we will never forget.
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