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Acton and Area - Those Who Gave Their All



THEY SHALL GROW NOT OLD AS WE
THAT ARE LEFT GROW OLD;
AGE SHALL NOT WEARY THEM NOR
THE YEARS CONDEMN.
AT THE GOING DOWN OF THE SUN
AND IN THE MORNING,
WE WILL REMEMBER THEM.

1914 - 1918

Corp. J. L. Moore Corp. R. Hurd Corp. W. G. Brown Pte. J.D. Burt
Pte. M. Kaley Capt. T.A. Authurs Pte. A. Anderson Pte. F. Elkington
Pte. F. Wills Pte. J. Fryer Pte. T. Irving Pte. G. McLeod
Pte. A. Winterburn Lieut. H.G. King Pte. A. Gribben Pte. P. Radlord
Sgt. W. Lee Pte. P. Godfrey Corp. F. Masters Pte. J.J. Kennedy
Sgt. Maj. N. Stuckey Pte. S. R. Adamson Pte. Authur Hadley Pte. Edward Harrison
Capt. C.M. Carbert M.C. Pte. Orville Fletcher Pte. Edward Hamman Pte. William Tremblett
Pte. James Miline Pte. Clarence Carton Corp. John H. Blair Pte. William Grahame
Pte. William McIntyre Pte. J.L. Kingsbury Pte. Harvey Elliot Pte. Westley Roberts
Pte. H.C. Elsley Pte. Fred Hilson Pte. Joseph Fryer Pte. Allan Reading
Pte. Howard C. Robinson Pte. William Roberts Pte. Melvin Bonas  

Post War Active Service

John S. Crocker Thomas Edwards James Gamble Henry Hampson
Robert J. Mutrie J. Wilfred Oakes Peter Pick Arnold Phillips
William W. Salmmon R. John Stumpf Gordon Wilson  





Click the icon above to see photos of WW II Soldiers who made the ultimate sacrifice.
Article from November 11, 2010 courtesy the Tanner, Acton, ON


 In Flanders Fields

 In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead, Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe;
To you with failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Lt.Col. John McCrae
 

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1939 - 1945

Sgt. Pilot C. Taylor Flt. Sgt. Peter McLaren P.O. Clarence Elsey Sgt. Marshall Wilson
Pte. R. Cecil Wilson A.C. E.A. Anderson Flt. Sgt. K. H. Buck F.O. W.R. Ellwood
Pte. John Gibbsons Pte. Wilson Gordon F.O. J.T. Guthrie Lieut. Rae Hiller
Sgt. William McCron Sgt. Wilfred McCron Sgt. Gordon K. McLennan Staff Sgt. N.L. McNabb
W.O. G.A. Molozzi Wing Cmdr. D.G. Morris Gnr. F. Near L Cpl. A.E. Perryman
Pte. R. Robertson L. Cpl. H.L. Simpson Gnr. G.A. Smethurst Pte. Jack Sweeney
Pte. G.H. Taylor Pte. C.H. Webster    

Post War Active Service

F.O.R. Rolston J. Ernest Edwards Ernest H. Gerrie Lawrence N. Graham
Jerry T. Guthrie Westley P. Harris T. Edwin Hayward John D. Hilts
Gordon E. Mack William H. Parkinson Donald F. Titt George R. Ware
Douglas W. Wheeler Charles H. Wilson

Green Fields Of France

Well, how do you do, Private William McBride,
Do you mind if I sit down here by your graveside?
And rest for awhile in the warm summer sun,
I've been walking all day, and I'm nearly done.
And I see by your gravestone you were only 19
When you joined the glorious fallen in 1916,
Well, I hope you died quick and I hope you died clean
Or, Willie McBride, was it slow and obscene?

Did they Beat the drum slowly, did the play the pipes lowly?
Did the rifles fir o'er you as they lowered you down?
Did the bugles sound The Last Post in chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?

And did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind
In some loyal heart is your memory enshrined?
And, though you died back in 1916,
To that loyal heart are you forever 19?
Or are you a stranger without even a name,
Forever enshrined behind some glass pane,
In an old photograph, torn and tattered and stained,
And fading to yellow in a brown leather frame?

The sun's shining down on these green fields of France;
The warm wind blows gently, and the red poppies dance.
The trenches have vanished long under the plow;
No gas and no barbed wire, no guns firing now.
But here in this graveyard that's still No Man's Land
The countless white crosses in mute witness stand
To man's blind indifference to his fellow man.
And a whole generation who were butchered and damned.

And I can't help but wonder, no Willie McBride,
Do all those who lie here know why they died?
Did you really believe them when they told you "The Cause?"
Did you really believe that this war would end wars?
Well the suffering, the sorrow, the glory, the shame
The killing, the dying, it was all done in vain,
For Willie McBride, it all happened again,
And again, and again, and again, and again.
 

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Eric Bogle, Arrangement/Artist The Corries

1950 - 1953

  Storey. Pte. A.E. Works. Pte. F.G.  

Remembrance

 

 

 

 

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