They both answered the call of "Mother England" as Britain was called in NZ in 1914. Strange isn't it, how even after several generations have lived in another country it is still not home.
No doubt both their parents were both proud and very torn that their beautiful young sons were about to board a ship that would take them to the other side of the world to fight a battle for "King and Country"
This is Uncle Henry Fulton, my Great Grandfather's brother, a beautiful young man off to France on a grand adventure (or so he thought). He thankfully returned....
My Great Grandmother apparently adored her brother Gordon, so it must have been truly devastating to receive this.....
My dear Great Grandmother never got over it, this was by her bed until she died. Florence named her baby (my Grandfather) after her brother, but I don't think it was ever the same...
He was buried in England at a Military Cemetery, so no one could grieve at his grave,
no one could put flowers there to honour him.
Anzac Day is always Uncle Gordon's day for me. He went to War to defend what he believed to be right. There was no conscription in NZ, so he went willingly, he volunteered along with thousands of other bright young men in their prime. He died in a foreign country, with no loved ones by his side, he died so that we could live in freedom, and I am fiercely proud of him for that....
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