Several years ago, my late mother told me there was an interesting story behind some family documents she had given me. It was only recently, when my grandson mentioned his World War school project, that I read and researched those documents. A key piece was missing though, a letter to a Sunday newspaper, and once I found that, the story fell into place.
My maternal grandfather George Forsyth had seven siblings; Mary (Maimie), Agnes (Nessie), John, Flora, Angus, William and Alexander.
My grandparents, George and Isa, to the left of the bridesmaid with some of their children, including my mother Edna, at their feet. The youngest of my grandfather’s siblings, Alexander, the tall young man to the right of the bride and William, top right at the very back of the crowd, would both lose their lives in World War II.
William, known as Bill, was a corporal serving with the 1st Battalion of Queen’s Own Cameron Highlanders. In the months following the start of the war, as part of the British Expeditionary Force (BEF) Bill wrote to his older sister Agnes Hamilton (nee Forsyth), known as Nessie.
Though Bill is long gone, I have a sense that I should preserve his dignity and share only the most poignant parts of his correspondence.
17 October 1939, Bill is in good cheer.
Dear Nessie
Thanks for the cigarettes which I received yesterday also the letter dated 10/10/39 which I received today. I wrote last week so perhaps you’ll have received my letter by now. There is no cause for worry as we not in any danger where we are billeted please don’t worry.
…
I’m in the best of health and enjoying my holiday in France.
That’s all there is to write about I can’t let you know where I am except that I’m in France.
Regards to all.
Love Bill
xxxxx
31 December 1939, it’s New Year’s Eve and Bill is hopeful.
Dear Nessie
Here are we, once more on the verge of a New Year. We are looking back at a year which started so happily and ended so wrong. At the same time we look forward to year of many possibilities and many great changes. Funny but no matter what looms on the horizon, be it black or fair, the coming of a New Year seems to chase the blues away to fill one with a new hope to solve what in the black days of the old year seemed to be weighing one down with its increasing worry and lack of a solution.
That is how I feel today, very happy feeling that my troubles will be washed away with the coming of a New Year, and full of hope for a uncivilised world.
Your letter arrived today, and increased my happiness. You couldn’t have done anything better than you did by writing that letter to reach me today. It made me feel, as no other letter has, that I’m not forgotten, that you are constantly thinking of me, and feeling thus, my cares and troubles are halved. It sort of brought us nearer to each other. I felt as if I only need to put out my hand to find you sitting beside me.
I like the words of Marion’ card, so simple but a world of meaning in them, for there is no better reason.
To-day our battalion received the Jocks Boxes. The contents of mine were as follows, :- Cake, Health Salts, Sardines or Kippers, Shaving cream, book and Handkerchief, also this small writing pad, on which I am writing on at present.
Well sis this promises to be a dry Hogmanay, up to now I haven’t had a drink its now seven o’clock. We have to be in billets by 9:30, lights out at 10:15. You can see I’ve no other option to be sober, what I miss is the home on a night like this, the sound of the bells at midnight, the friendships that might begin, the argument with Joe to see whose bottle we should open first. Oh I could go ramping on for hours what I will miss.
Just imagine me being in bed, probably asleep at this time of the year. One consolation I shan’t have the usual big head in the morning.
We are having our New Years dinner tomorrow, quite a decent spread from what I hear of it. Tomorrow, for the first time since coming to France I shall have a pint of blighty beer, to which I am looking forward to with the greatest of pleasure.
Looking at the issue of the Continental Daily Mail one wonders who the B.E.F are. From the description they got from Charles Graves and various other reporters we can’t see that we are part of it. The B.E.F. are having the best of everything, English beer etc. Well not this part of it anyway, the only English beer we saw was a small bottle of Guinness at Xmas even then it was between two, a bottle between two, it was horrible stuff too.
Well I expect to be home or on my way this next week. I can hardly wait, I bet this is the longest week ever. I don’t know how you managed to save a fiver out of the money you certainly took a load off my mind.
…
By the time this reaches you it will be after the New Year although I’m writing it before it. So I’ll wish you a Happy New Year when it comes and at the same time I hope you enjoyed a happy New Year.
All the best of the Season to you and yours.
Your loving Brother
Bill
Xxxxxxxx
24 May 1940, Bill is injured, in a tight spot, but reassures his big sister.
Dear Nessie
At last I can manage to scribble a few lines. I cannot guarantee that my letters will ever reach you, it depends on the situation.
I am quite well although my right hand is swollen, a piece of shrapnel hit me across the knuckles and although painful will be alright in a couple of days.
Luck has been on my side so far, so keep on saying your prayers.
…
I’m proud to be in the Cameron Highlanders they have showed the BEF not forgetting old Jerry that we are men as well as good soldiers. When history comes to be written the Camerons heroism will be made known. I’m quoting the Divisional Command.
Give my regards to everyone. Its difficult to write under the present conditions, so if you only receive a field postcard don’t be disheartened.
Please don’t worry about me God is looking after me, there is no better sentry.
Now Nessie about parcels, we don’t get any pay as there nowhere to spend it. Cigarettes are urgently required not in small doses send them through a tobacconists. Blades, tooth paste, chocolate are also welcome. OK.
I’ll have to close now please give my regards to all and write soon.
Until I hear from you again I send my regards and all my love to you and yours.
Your loving Brother
Bill
Plenty of kisses.
Just one month later Nessie receives devastating news and subsequent correspondence reveals that Bill died just days after his last letter, but his burial place is unknown.
1944 Nessie receives some remarkable news from the Rev G Elliot Anderson
Rev. G. Elliot Anderson
att. 5th Bn Cameron Highlanders
B.L.Q
18th Oct. 1944.
Dear Mrs Hamilton
I enclose a letter which you wrote on 9th April 1940 to your brother who was, I believe serving the B.E.F. with the 1st Bn Cameron Highlanders. I also enclose a pound note found stuffed in the said letter.
Rather a remarkable thing occurred at Violaines near La Bassée on the borders of France and Belgium. It was here that the 1st Camerons fought a bitter battle in 1940 & on our way past this place some time ago a party from the 5th Bn went for a tour of the battle field. I was with this party. I found that the bodies of our dead had been carefully collected, identified, their personal effects removed & the bodies reverently buried by the French people.
They have tended the graves most carefully ever since & fresh flowers have been there continually. This was largely organised by a Monsieur Vaneker, who, at danger of punishment, possibly even death, from the Nazis had kept hidden the personal property of his dead British friends. Among the bag full of stuff which he handed to me I found this letter with its enclosure. I do not know the name of your brother but I found the graves of the following together with many of “unknown soldiers”
2625860 J.P. McErlain
396061 Wm Rutherford
2928705 Wm C. Forsyth
2928489 J.W. Monaghan
Wm Buchanan
4197380 Sydney Cope
5240838 Samuel Yarwold
744807 J Borthwick
4914742 T Fisher
2927125 James Brown
414344 ‘Ally’ MacLean
2932048 James Anderson
If your brother’s name does not appear on this you can take it as certain that his is one of the “unknown soldiers” graves. If he was simply reported “missing” I regret to say that you can take it as certain that he was killed at Violaines. Whatever happened he laid down his life in a great cause for King and Country, for his home, his fellow men & his God. His memory is honoured not only among his own folk but also in this “corner of a foreign field” where the ordinary folk of this French village have risked their lives to honour it. A letter from you to M. Vaneker would be very much appreciated. His address is simply M Vaneker, Violaines Pas-de-Calais, France.
I send you & the relatives, possibly a wife or mother who still remembers in proud sorrow her loved one who died in a foreign land, my sympathy.
Yours sincerely
(Rev.) G. Elliot Anderson
20 May 1945 – Nessie shares her news with the Sunday Post and, amazingly, the story reaches a war widow.
Dear Mrs Hamilton
My sister in law read your letter in the Sunday paper and sent it on to me as my husband’s name J Borthwick was among those who were buried beside your brother.
We lived in the Cameron Barracks in peace time and your brothers name seems familiar to me but I knew Bill Rutherford and his very well and I only hope she saw your letter and I also know Sidney Cope and his wife. I have written to M Vaneker and I thought you might feel happy to know that your letter was of some help to me in that it showed me where my husband was buried as he was missing for eighteen months and there was always some doubt about his death.
Thanking you very much.
I remain
(Mrs) Sadie Borthwick.
Image created courtesy of The British Library Board
In Memory
Young Alexander died accidentally by land mine in Egypt in 1942. Both Bill and Alexander are recorded on the Commonwealth War Graves Commission: Corporal William Cook Forsyth | War Casualty Details 2281015 | CWGC, Private Alexander Forsyth | War Casualty Details 2768538 | CWGC
A brief description of cause of death for military personnel can also be found. (costs apply).
I have very vague childhood memories of great Aunt Nessie and my mother always spoke of her with respect and kindness. Nessie certainly was a supportive and determined big sister.
I do hope Nessie, Bill and Alexander would have been pleased their stories were retold in Bylines Scotland, and perhaps, might we find descendants of Monsieur Vaneker and the other brave villagers still in Violaines?
I left home at 16 so I was never close to my mother’s family but in researching this story I find I have a great deal of respect and admiration for the uncle who lost his young life in battle some 17 years before I was born. From his letters I have no doubt this brave and intelligent wee guy from Shettleston, Glasgow would be a proud supporter of Scottish Independence.
Next time I march with Believe in Scotland, in this United Kingdom of foodbanks and continual erasure of the most basic of human rights, I’ll take my uncle Bill with me in spirit. He and I will find those flying saltires and rainbows and we’ll proudly march alongside them.
Additional Credit: Jordan Olliffe, Forsyth family researcher and great great nephew of Nessie, Bill and Alexander.
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