‘Go for it,’ she said, still staring out the window.
Morton set aside his tray. ‘You can go and wash it all up now, fiancée,’he said with a grin.
Juliette turned to face him, raised her eyebrows and pulled a that’s nevergoing to happen face, then returned to her book.
Morton picked up the box and carefully opened it. Inside was a sealedswab and a requisite raft of accompanying paperwork. He read all the information,filled in the necessary forms then took the saliva test and sealed thepacket. ‘There. Done. We’ll send it off on our wayhome. In six to eight weeks I’ll get the results.’
‘Presumably you’ll have a large percentage of North American DNA, then?’Juliette answered.
‘Probably, yes. Unless there are any other secrets lurking in thepast. Right, I suppose I’d better get up. Aunty Margaret will bechomping at the bit for me to read today’s unit diary.’
‘Take the tray with you and wash it all up, fiancé,’ Juliette smirked.
Morton grinned and carried the tray from the room.
Downstairs, Jim was sitting by the fire reading a paper and Margaret wasflicking through television channels at an alarming rate.
‘Morning,’ she greeted, switching the television off.
‘Oh, at last,’ Jim said, looking up vaguely from his paper. ‘Put thispoor old thing out of her misery—she’s been driving me potty this morning.’
Margaret chortled. ‘I couldn’t sleep, either. I’ve not been thisexcited for years. You’ve got me proper hooked, Morton Farrier!’
‘No pressure, then,’ Morton said, starting up his laptop. ‘Okay.’
Margaret sat perched on the edge of her chair, looking like an eagerpuppy. Even Jim set down his newspaper to listen to the entry.
‘Twenty-sixth December. Cambrin. Moved off at 6am to the relief ofthe 6th Brigade near Cambrin. We commenced relieving theStaffords at 12 noon and did not finish until 8.30pm—another bad communicationtrench. Here we had 900 yards of trench, which we held with threecompanies, with one platoon in support. ‘C’ company, who had 90 men admittedto hospital on 24th and 25th having been distributedamong the other three companies. The enemy sent over about 20 highexplosives. Three rank and file missing.’
Margaret and Jim looked at each other, their disappointment clearly evident.
‘Is that it?’ Margaret said at last. ‘I was hoping for more detail. It doesn’t even mention the poor blighters’ names, does it.’ She shookher head. ‘Rank and file.’
Morton also couldn’t help but feel disappointed, although he knew deep downthat very seldom did rank and file soldiers get mentioned in the unit diaries,even when killed or captured. He looked again at the end of theentry. Three rank and file missing. One was Leonard Sageman and onehis great grandfather, Charles Ernest Farrier. Morton returned to theCommonwealth War Graves Commission website and re-entered his greatgrandfather’s name. He then clicked through to the page on Le TouretMemorial and See Casualty Records. On screen, Morton was presentedwith a list of the thirteen thousand, four hundred and fifty-five commemoratedthere. Charles was listed on the first page. The entry below listedthe only other solider killed that day: Private Cyril Stoneham. Just likeCharles, he too was commemorated at the Le Touret Memorial, also without aknown grave.
‘The other man was called Cyril Stoneham,’ Morton told Margaret and Jim. Morton scribbled the entry onto his notepad and recapped what he knew. ‘So that day, twenty high explosives were sent over, which killed LeonardSageman and Cyril Stoneham. Charles, though, wasn’t killed but managed totake Leonard’s ID and somehow was captured by the Germans. It sounds tome like they weren’t in the trenches when it all happened…’
‘Is that really all you can find out?’ Margaret said. ‘You’ll be goinghome shortly and I feel like it’s all a bit of an anti-climax because we don’tknow the whole story.’
‘Hmm,’ Morton agreed. There has to be more out there than this, hethought. ‘Don’t worry, Aunty Margaret, I’ll continue the case when I getback. I’ll see what West Sussex Record Office and the National Archiveshave got on him. Also the National Army Museum is due to put all theirSoldiers’ Effects Records online, covering soldiers killed in the British army1901 to 1960. Have no fear—there’s plenty more to do from home!’
‘Just make sure you keep me up-to-date,’ she said, before ambling off into thekitchen.
Morton opened up his emails and, among the usual newsletters, junk and eBayalerts, was an email from an Andrew Sageman with the subject Greetings! He eagerly clicked to open the message. Dear Morton, How lovely tohear from you! Sad that we know so little of each other’s families,despite sharing such a recent common ancestor in Nellie Sageman (neéEllingham). Nellie was my grandmother and I have very fond memories ofher. Which trees are you researching? I have a great collection ofinformation on the Ellinghams and Sagemans, though I doubt the latter will holdmuch of interest to you. After Nellie’s funeral many of her personaleffects, photos, etc. were put out for people to help themselves to. As akeen family historian, I took everything that nobody else wanted! Whatmight be of interest to you are a few bits and pieces regarding Nellie’s firsthusband, Charlie. Somewhere (!) I have his original 1914 will, his warmedals, his original pay pocket book (complete with blood stains) and a letter,including a brief account of Charlie’s last movements from his friend, EdwardPartington. If any of this is of interest, please let me know and I’llhave a rummage and get it copied for you! Best wishes, Andrew Sageman.
‘Wow! Come and lookat this, Aunty Margaret,’ he called excitedly.
She darted into the room and read over his shoulder. ‘Golly. Sothis is the person you found on that Lost Cousins website, is it?’
‘That’s right. Do you know him?’
Margaret screwed up her face. ‘Yes, but no. As kids we were oftenall at Granny’s house for parties, Christmas, that kind of thing but onceGranny died it all fizzled out. I haven’t seen Andrew for donkey’syears.’
‘I’ll email him straight back and ask him if he could send me copies ofeverything he has for Charles. Then I
