It's 100 years ago and you live where you live right now...

I will be there tomorow, my mum and dad still live up on the Balgrayhill. My mum was a cub leader in sighthill.
 
Well, it's changed a bit. I'm in Pontcanna, very pretentious middle class bohemian. We have an arts centre, a Norwegian bakery and in the narrow streets there's nowhere to park. The houses are not tiny anymore; they are compact and bijoux.
That would be Brød – The Danish Bakery on Wyndham Cresent? I can't think of a Norwegian bakery around there
 
There seems little point in all the trappings of being an Earl if you are consumed with grief at the loss of your dear son Bob. I received a comforting letter at the HoL from his CO but I can’t help but feel he was glossing over the reality of poor Roberts untimely demise.

At least that somewhat unruly Tedsson lad made it back (probably deserted and came back when we won). 31 other locals were not so lucky.

Still, Maud puts a brave face on things. Still wearing weeds but says she will stop at six months. I have instructed the staff to stop wearing black armbands, I don’t need constant reminding. The plans to erect the memorial are finished and construction work is underway.

The huge increase in traffic on the Longmoor Military Railway has died to almost nothing. As has activity on the Longmoor Ranges. Oddly enough we heard rifle fire every day for four years, which is probably more than any soldier ever did on the front.

Bordon is starting to revert back to sleepy village status as all the Canadians and South Africans go home. They will fade from memory, only vaguely known by the barrack names. I wonder what it’s future will be now we have peace? I imagine 1919 is the end of the 20 year relationship between Bordon and the Army.

Sadly the originally designated military graveyard to the west of the Farnham Road was not designed to cope with the war and there is a much larger new one near the station. It has a Cross Of Sacrifice and is a fine place to spend eternity.

Sadly poor Bob remains in Iraq, which I now imagine will be a sleepy peaceful place in the future.

One can only pray for a brighter future awaiting all of us.
 
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Joker62

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There seems little point in all the trappings of being an Earl if you are consumed with grief at the loss of your dear son Bob. I received a comforting letter at the HoL from his CO but I can’t help but feel he was glossing over the reality of poor Roberts untimely demise.

At least that somewhat unruly Tedsson lad made it back (probably deserted and came back when we won). 31 other locals were not so lucky.

Still, Maud puts a brave face on things. Still wearing weeds but says she will stop at six months. I have instructed the staff to stop wearing black armbands, I don’t need constant reminding. The plans to erect the memorial are finished and construction work is underway.

The huge increase in traffic on the Longmoor Military Railway has died to almost nothing. As has activity on the Longmoor Ranges. Oddly enough we heard rifle fire every day for four years, which is probably more than any soldier ever did on the front.

Bordon is starting to revert back to sleepy village status as all the Canadians and South Africans go home. They will fade from memory, only vaguely known by the barrack names. I wonder what it’s future will be now we have peace? I imagine 1919 is the end of the 20 year relationship between Bordon and the Army.

Sadly the originally designated military graveyard to the west of the Farnham Road was not designed to cope with the war and there is a much larger new one near the station. It has a Cross Of Sacrifice and is a fine place to spend eternity.

Sadly poor Bob remains in Iraq, which I now imagine will be a sleepy peaceful place in the future.

One can only pray for a brighter future awaiting all of us.
It was known as Mesopotamia until after WW1.
 
As I live in the former Dorchester Asylum, I can say that I wasn't involved much in the goings on of the last 5 years.

Excitingly, we had a German soldier here for a while, suffering from something called Shell Shock. He left after a few months because there was an argument about who paid for his care. (Nothing has changed in mental health provision)

I shall live here, working in the laundry, whilst the men work on the farm, allotments, vegetable garden, etc. And play cricket on the lovely pitch (still there today).

When I die I will be buried in the grounds of our Chapel until the asylum closes in the 1980s and a village built in its grounds.


As to my real family,
Grandad maternal will leave the Sussex Regiment this year and return to his job as a Groom for the Duke of Richmond at Goodwood. After six months he will jack it in and re-enlist, spending 35 years in the Army and the Reserve, serving in India, Malta (1939) and the UK.

Grandad paternal will remain in the Labour Corps until 1920 then spend years in and out of Moorfields trying to get sight restored to one eye . He will be made to shovel snow in Winter to collect Assistance to keep his wife and child. The three of them will suffer greatly from poverty and malnutrition in a Land fit for Heroes. Eventually this Colchester resident will find work as a plasterer in Cambridge. He will cycle there every Sunday, stay in a hostel, and return after work on Saturday lunchtime. Eventually they will buy one of the new houses he is working on, and celebrate by having my father. They will live in that house until they die, he aged 75 in 1973 and she aged 85 in 1983.
 
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Thanks @StrikerLight for sharing ‘A Street Near You’, I’ve spent most of lunchtime exploring it. Though my house doesn’t have an entry, a few doors down was a widow of an RASC Staff Sergeant who has a military grave having “died of sickness 28th February 1919”. His entry notes that he served in India so maybe contracted a tropical illness or disease?
A few people have mentioned that people weren’t very mobile geographically. Well this chap got around a bit: born and raised in Glasgow (parents still living there as of 1919), Freeman of the City of London, his wife (and the house) Welsh but he is buried in Yorkshire.
26 years old.
Mr. GRB's Great Uncle died of rabies while serving in India with the Dorset Regiment. Bitten by a jackal when sleeping on the verandah to be cooler than indoors. His brother, Mr. GRB's Grandad, never liked dogs after watching him die. He himself had a massive scar in his chest from a lance wound incurred during that tour, which today might be described as 'a bit cheeky'.
 
The House I live in was built in 1888 and it's a stones throw from the beach. Four or five families would have lived in it largely from the fishing community. Their net drying facilities can still be seen down on the beach. In 1953 that was suddenly 8ft underwater in the same storm that did for Holland and the Kent coast. I know from a bit of digging that my house had a forge in the back yard, a house a bit further up has what used to be a kipper kiln house, Great Central railway ran Fish trains to Billingsgate early each morning and late in the evening and of course there were the trawlers in and out and the repair yards. Scots female gutters were here as in Gt Yarmouth.
 
There was a “strip” along the back of my grandparents house. The neighbours agreed to surrender a cars width of their back garden to allow vehicle access. Odd, because none of them had cars in the twenties.

But the thread topic reminded me of covenants on houses, my house in Twickenham had a covenant on growing fruit. It was built on the site of a commercial apple orchard. The joke was that there were two apple trees in the garden.

I moved to Camberley. The covenant said I was not allowed to keep steam locomotives or traction engines. That was a right bastard as I had to sell all my steam traction engines.

I moved to Woking and was not allowed to keep chickens, other poultry or fowl. I killed all my swans.
I once lived in part of an old Rectory. We had a covenant that we couldn't impersonate Vicars or Ministers.

The Vicars and Tarts Party had to be cancelled...
 
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Yes and No. The various bits of the US repealed the right of women to vote shortly after independence. The right of American women (white women that is) to vote wasn't fully restored until the 19th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution was ratified in 1920.

Timeline of women's suffrage in the United States - Wikipedia
1893. New Zealand the first self governing country to grant the vote to all women over 21, whether Maori or other immigrants.
 
Further information about the German Soldier with Shell Shock who was here. He was from the massive POW camp at Poundbury, where the present Prince of Wales has built a posh suburban blot on the landscape.

Hundreds of POWs lived there and worked on farms and in businesses locally. When they died the town gave them proper funerals and buried them in the cemetery at St. George's, Fordington, on the outskirts of town. There is a memorial to them there, but they were reburied elsewhere with more of their comrades in the 1960s.
Every 11th November there is a service at their memorial in the afternoon.
 
The House I live in was built in 1888 and it's a stones throw from the beach. Four or five families would have lived in it largely from the fishing community. Their net drying facilities can still be seen down on the beach. In 1953 that was suddenly 8ft underwater in the same storm that did for Holland and the Kent coast. I know from a bit of digging that my house had a forge in the back yard, a house a bit further up has what used to be a kipper kiln house, Great Central railway ran Fish trains to Billingsgate early each morning and late in the evening and of course there were the trawlers in and out and the repair yards. Scots female gutters were here as in Gt Yarmouth.
@LeoRoverman, hi just wondering, where are you? There used to be a train from here Lowestoft to Billingsgate. Before and after I my time in the Army, I worked for Trawler repair company's.
 

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