If someone remembers you, you’re not lost

I was tidying up my work space this morning and it got me thinking about the things I was picking up. Or more to the point, what wasn’t there. We’ve lived on a boat for the last six years, and my writing space is a bit small. Just part of the saloon table, where my MacBook Air sits. When we lived onshore, I had my own room to work in, a delightful, odd-shaped, attic-like place upstairs that held crammed bookshelves, an old Huon pine cabinet with wide flat drawers full of art paper and paints, a big table and a comfortable chair. A space-saving filing cabinet. Photos of the family, a vase of flowers (often dead) and stuff – bits and pieces that I had picked up somewhere that had excited my brain and started the circuits firing. One piece in particular did that every time I saw it. Just a shard of very old blue and white china, dating from the early 1800s. Its shape suggested it was part of a tea cup, and I’d wonder about the woman who had carried it to Australia from Europe. Did she miss her home? Did she weep when it broke? what happened to her?

While I was writing Ronan’s Echo, I kept a photo on my desktop (on the boat) of Corporal Herbert Evan Jones, 21st Battalion, of Middle Park, Victoria. When the flow of words dried up as they inevitably do, I’d gaze at this serious, smooth face with the sad eyes, and wonder who he was. I’d found his image on-line amongst a pile of WW1 studio photographs. He became my Connor Ronan. Herbert was born in Benalla, and became a tailor. He was 21 when he signed up in 1915, missed Gallipoli by a month, only to be killed in action during the battle on the 19th July 1916. His records are marked “grave unknown”.

Every time a new list of identified soldiers comes out, I scan it for his name. Last month another 20 names were added, bringing the total of soldiers identified from the mass graves at Fromelles to 144.  Sadly Herbert Evan Jones was not one of those soldiers, and remains either “Known Unto God’ in the cemetery there, or perhaps still lost out on the quiet green farmlands of the old Western Front. A plaque at VC corner remembers him, but I wonder if anyone else does?  His photo will stay on my desk, anyway.

2 thoughts on “If someone remembers you, you’re not lost

  1. Oh I hope so, Sarah! I feel such a strong connection to him after saying g’day to him so many times while I was writing Ronan’s Echo. They’re still identifying remains at Fromelles, so you never know. – Joanne

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