I first learnt about WW1 in the 1960s, researching conditions in the trenches for a production of ‘Journeys End’
I bought my poppy. It is still in its box. My daughter has one too. I saw them at the Tower of London, magnificent and very touching. I was caring for my elderly mother who, on Armistice Day, would always remember the boys she went to school with who had died in WW2.
I’m the family historian and my research has followed family involvement in WW1. I was appalled when I read the army discharge papers of her young uncle David, who had been badly wounded at the Somme. He was discharged, after 5 months in France, as being unfit for service due to TB, which he clearly had when signed up. He died less than 6 months later.
My daughter worked on an archaeological dig on the Somme, which I followed with interest. From seeing the situation and the finds, through to burial services for the French and British soldiers they found, it was very moving
This all said ‘Buy a poppy’.

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