As a Branch, we first met Harry when he was 102 years old. One of our Committee members worked for Somerset Care, which ran the residential home where Harry lived with his friend, Betty, and arranged for us to visit him one Saturday afternoon. I remember feeling very excited at the prospect of meeting a WW1 veteran, especially one who had served in the trenches, and thought at the time that it would be a one-off meeting that I would always remember.
Harry was a lovely man. Charming, funny, intelligent and a great communicator. The relationship between him and the Branch started that afternoon, as did our friendship. ‘H', as I called him, regularly attended our monthly meetings and I would collect him from Wells and drive him across Somerset to Bridgwater.
Harry always had a story. He was a keen historian, and would often recount tales of the Battle of Sedgemoor as we drove to and from the meetings. He was bright as a button in those days, despite his age and, although his body gave in to the ravages of time as the years progressed, his mind did not.
Harry's birthday fell in the same month as our annual general meeting, and we were delighted to welcome him as our Guest of Honour on several occasions, making it a dual celebration of his birthday and the anniversary of the Branch's foundation. One of Harry's desires was a trip in a hot air balloon. I must admit we chickened out of organising a ride in the real thing as we were concerned for his well-being, but the Branch arranged for me to take him and Betty to Bournemouth one Saturday to experience a ride in the tethered balloon they have there. It was a day to remember, with Harry enjoying the experience and chatting to the holiday-makers who could not believe he fought at Passchendaele. He insisted on paying for lunch, because that's how he was. A true gentleman.
A couple of years later, a new series about life in the trenches was screened on television, and I sat with Harry at Fletcher House and watched it with him. I could hardly believe I was sitting next to someone who had actually experienced the scenes I was seeing recreated on screen. Until that day, Harry had always avoided programmes about war. He told me he had never watched a single war film in his life. He was quiet, but not withdrawn, as we watched, and said that, no matter how realistic the programme was, no TV programme could ever replicate the fear that the soldiers experienced
When his friend, Betty, died, I was called to Fletcher House by the staff to be with him. Despite the sadness of the loss of Betty, or perhaps because of it, Harry was in what I can only describe as "the death zone" mentally and was ready to talk, and he spoke to me of his time in the trenches as he had never done before. He spoke of the bits of bodies lying near the trench, of the flies that covered everything so that they looked like a solid, pulsating mass, of the smell of exploded flesh, and the dogs that were interested in eating meatier fare than the biscuits the soldiers threw out to them. It was absolutely awesome to listen to him as he recounted those dark days, and it helped me understand better the reasons why he kept those experiences filed away at the back of his mind for so many years.
In the last few years of his life, I had less contact with Harry as his celebrity status grew, and he became more and more busy. It broke my heart to see him on the news, crying on the coach when he first visited the battlefields in Belgium. How difficult a trip that must have been for him. I don't think he was emotionally ready, but time was running out. I know he wanted to pay his respects to his fallen comrades as best he could, and use his new-found fame to share his views on the wastefulness and pointless destruction of life that resulted from the thing they call war.
One conundrum remains now he is gone. Harry was not prone to forgetfulness, and he told me he kept in touch with his Sgt after the war. I find it hard to believe that he did not remember the names of his friends in the Lewis gun team who fell, despite him saying that they used only nick-names in the trenches. Perhaps he wanted to keep that part of his war private, and to protect the precious memories of those young men who did not grow old, as Harry grew old. Well, good for you Harry, is all I can say to that.
One of Harry's wishes was that we would not forget the sacrifice of those who fell on both sides in the Great War, nor ignore their legacy. At the Western Front Association our aim is to perpetuate that memory, and ensure their voices are heard even now that they are all beyond the grave.
The Somerset Branch of the Western Front Association meets on the second Wednesday of the month (next meeting 9 September) at Othery Village Hall on the A361 between Taunton and Glastonbury. Please see our Events Page.
Images (courtesy Christine Hindle and Martin Hornby)
Harry and Martin
Harry Patch with Christine Hindle and Martin Hornby at the Somerset WFA
Harry and Christine
Harry on his balloon ride at Bournemouth
