Walter Tull: Footballer turned Military Officer

As this week marked Remembrance Day, I wanted to share the amazing story of Walter Tull, one of the first black professional footballers and the first black army officer who served, and died, during the First World War. Whilst researching his story in more depth, I must admit I got quite emotional, even more so knowing he hasn’t received recognition since his death in 1918. Thankfully in recent years, there have been attempts to share his story, led by his grandnephews and nieces. I hope this blog post goes some way to adding to that recognition.

Walter Daniel Tull was born to Daniel and Anne Tull on the 28th of April 1888. Daniel was from Barbados and had moved to England at the age of 20. He settled in Folkestone on the Kent Coast, where despite facing initial prejudice due to his skin colour, had a successful career as a carpenter. Whilst attending the Grace Hill Wesleyan Chapel, he met Alice Palmer, and they married in 1880, with the consent of her family.[1] They went on to have six children, one of them being Walter, but sadly their oldest child died within a few weeks.

Walter had a happy beginning to life and the family were known to be close knit. Sadly this wasn’t to last as Alice died of cancer at the age of 42 in May 1895, leaving Daniel as a single parent struggling to look after them and work at the same time.[2] To show how much Daniel was accepted into Alice’s family, a niece of Alice’s called Clara moved in to help look after the children so the family wouldn’t be split up.[3] Daniel and Clara went on to marry and they had a daughter. Again heartbreak reached the family as Daniel died of heart disease in December 1897, leaving Clara to look after six children alone.[4] The situation was dire and Clara had to make the awful decision to place Walter and his brother, Edward, into care. They were placed into a home in East London run by Methodists on Clara’s insistence, hoping that there would be some familiarity in that, no matter how big the difference was in moving from the coast to the dirty and polluted capital.[5]

Walter Tull with Comrades (1914), Wikimedia Commons

Before any application could be sent to the home, the Reverend Stephenson, who ran the home, was made aware of the skin colour of the boys. He responded that it made no difference, they were very welcome, so long as poor relief board could contribute towards their costs, just as they did with the other boys in their care.[6] Care homes at that time made it hard for families to ever take their children back, as it was expected the families would financially compensate the home, the costs of which increased the longer children had been in the home for.[7] The home that Walter and Edward lived in also did this, but was well known for the kindness it was run with. The children well fed and taught trades for the future, as well as encouraging hobbies and sport, including access to their own swimming pool.[8] It was here that Walter found his love of football. He was often a player for the home in local amateur games, with which he competed in more after Edward was adopted by a Glaswegian family.[9]

Walter was first offered a trial by Clapton FC in 1908. This was a good place to start his football career, albeit on an amateur basis, as Clapton was seen as one of the best amateur teams of the time.[10] Walter proved his worth for the team as he helped contribute to them winning the FA Amateur Challenge Cup, London Senior Cup and London Amateur Cup that season.[11] Tottenham soon signed him up as a professional in July 1909, so that he could join them in a football tour of Argentina, before he made his English debut for the team in September.[12] Within a month, he was racially abused by Bristol City supporters at an away match, which made all the national newspapers.[13] Soon after he was dropped from Tottenham’s first team and placed into the reserves, which he did continue to make appearances for, although on a smaller scale than he envisioned. Whilst playing one of these reserve matches against Northampton Town in February 1911, Walter again showed his talent for the game. He scored a hat trick in a 7-1 victory against Northampton.[14] It impressed the club and they signed him up for the next season. He played just over 100 matches for the team before the First World War.[15]

In December 1914, just four months after Britain entered the First World War, Walter enlisted in what was known as the Football Battalion, a battalion made up of footballers from all over the country. Within two months, he was promoted to the position of Lance Corporal, and then promoted again to Lance Sergeant.[16] In May 1916, he was invalided back to England due to shell shock, although the Northampton Mercury newspaper also reported that he was suffering from pneumonia.[17] Despite this, he returned to the fighting and took part in the Battle of Ancre, the first and second Battle of the Somme, Battle of Messines, Battle of Passchendaele and first Battle of Bapaume.[18]

First World War Football Battalion Recruitment Poster, Wikimedia Commons

With the bravery shown in battle, he was again promoted to the rank of Sergeant in 1916. He was recommended for an officer’s training course and became a Second Lieutenant in May 1917 after showing good leadership skills.[19] This went against the Army Council’s rules of only allowing those of European descent of becoming officers. The Council also said that black people should be placed in their own regiments and not mix with white people, but Walter’s example went against this as he first led white men at the Battle of Passchendaele.[20]

Whilst stationed in Northern Italy towards the end of 1917, he successfully led men on night time reconnaissance missions to gather information on German positions. Each time he did this the party came back without any casualties.[21] For this he was mentioned in dispatches and put forward by Major General Sydney Lawford for a military cross, but he didn’t receive one.[22] It’s thought he didn’t receive one as due to the Army Council’s rules.[23]

Walter was killed at Arras on 25th March 1918 during what is known as the German Spring Offensive, which was the German’s last attempt to regain control towards the end of the war. It’s reported that Private Tom Billingham, a former goalkeeper for Leicester Fosse, attempted to bring Walter’s body back to the British lines but was unable to, meaning he was unable to have a grave.[24] His name is instead mentioned on the memorial wall at the Faubourg d’Amiens cemetery in Arras.[25]

Newns, T., Epitaph of Walter Tull at the Sixfields Stadium in Northampton (2009), Wikimedia Commons

That could easily have been the last people heard of Walter, but there have been efforts to increase public awareness of his achievements in football and his sacrifice during the First World War. Northampton Town have a memorial set up outside their stadium, as well as the road that leads to their stadium being named Walter Tull Way.[26] To mark centenary celebrations of the First World War between 2014 and 2018, a special £5 coin and stamp with Walter’s face on were created.[27] Most recently, Walter was finally inducted into the Football Hall of Fame on the 20th of October 2021, with the award being collected by his grandnephew Edward Finlayson, the grandson of Walter’s brother, Edward.[28]

Whilst I am very pleased that Walter’s story has become more well known since the centenary, I must admit I was disappointed to learn that he has still not received a military cross for his bravery, despite the possible reason for his colour not allowing him to be granted one in his lifetime. A petition was set up in 2013 but didn’t receive enough signatures.[29] The granting of a military cross would be the next logical, and deserved, step in remembering the legacy of Walter Tull and the achievements he made despite the obstacles of racism and poverty he had. If any campaign is reignited for Walter to be granted a military cross, I will be right behind it as I feel he definitely deserves one.

[1] Wynn, S., Against All Odds: Walter Tull, The Black Lieutenant (Barnsley: Pen & Sword, 2018), p. 2

[2] Ibid, p. 3.

[3] Ibid, p. 3.

[4] Ibid, pp. 3-4.

[5] Ibid, p. 4.

[6] Ibid, p. 4.

[7] Ibid, pp. 4-5.

[8] Ibid, p. 7.

[9] Ibid, pp. 7-9.

[10] National Football Museum, ‘Walter Tull Inducted Into Hall of Fame’, 19 October 2021,

[11] Wynn, S., Against All Odds, p. 9.

[12] Ibid, p. 10.

[13] Ibid, pp. 18-19.

[14] Ibid, p. 21.

[15] Ibid, p. 21.

[16] Ibid, p. 33.

[17] Ibid, p. 36.

[18] Ibid, p. 36.

[19] Ibid, p. 41.

[20] Ibid, p. 41; Aarons, E., ‘Walter Tull: Why the Black Footballing Pioneer was Denied a Military Cross’, The Guardian, 3 February 2016,

[21] Wynn, S., Against All Odds, pp. 41-42.

[22] Ibid, p. 42.

[23] Conway, R. and Lockwood, D., ‘Walter Tull: The Incredible Story of a Football Pioneer and War Hero’, BBC Sport, 23 March 2018,

[24] Ibid.

[25] Walter Tull Archive,

[26] Wynn, S., Against All Odds, p. 23.

[27] Aarons, E., ‘Walter Tull: Why the Black Footballing Pioneer was Denied a Military Cross’, The Guardian, 3 February 2016,

[28] National Football Museum, ‘Walter Tull Inducted Into Hall of Fame’, 19 October 2021,

[29] Wynn, S., Against All Odds, p. 54.

Update and New Anthony Woodville Content

Things have been a bit hectic here lately with lots of things going off here, so thought it would be best to explain what’s happening. Before I start though, I want to make it clear I will still be blogging, but it may reduce to one post a month from now on. There are still so many stories I want to share, so I will continue doing that for as long as I possibly can do. I also want to take the time to say thank you to all you readers and followers of the blog. It means a lot that people are interested in what I write.

Next week marks the 100th Anniversary of the first Remembrance Day here in the UK and to mark it, I’ll be writing about Walter Tull. He was one of the first black professional footballers and the first black officer in the British Army during World War One. His story is a very special one and it will be an honour to share it with you all.

Newns, T., Epitaph of Walter Tull at the Sixfields Stadium in Northampton (2009), Wikimedia Commons

Some of you regular readers will know about my research into the life of Anthony Woodville, the fifteenth century knight and brother- in-law of Edward IV. I have been doing this on and off for the past 6 or 7 years now, so you can imagine it means a lot to me. Back in June, I was asked, alongside my good friend Michele Schindler, to give a talk on Anthony Woodville and Francis Lovell’s connections to Richard III. This is now available to view on YouTube, so I’m attaching it here for you to watch if you want to.

I was also asked by Rebecca Larson, who runs the Tudor Dynasty podcast, to write an episode on Anthony Woodville. This is now available through any app you listen to podcasts through. If that’s not for you, you can easily listen by using the following link:

There is also some other news that I’ll be announcing next week that I really can’t wait to share with you. It’s been a long time coming, but I hope you’ll be as excited about it as I am. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this content and let me know what you think.

Jane Austen During World War One

Jane Austen is one of Britain’s most well-known and best loved authors. Alongside Dickens, she is definitely my favourite author. There is something happy and uplifting about her novels. It also helps that you can find lots of other things to fill your Austen need. You can so easily find sequels, academic articles, merchandise, virtually anything related to Austen or her novels. Admittedly this ‘Austenmania’ started in the 1990s with a number of TV and film adaptations, with Colin Firth as Mr Darcy in Pride and Prejudice being the one that comes to mind the most. However, this type of fame has been hard come by and the beginnings of it certainly didn’t come into force until the late nineteenth century.

Engraving of a young Jane Austen based on a sketch by Cassandra Austen from James Edward Austen-Leigh’s 1870 Memoirs, Wikimedia Commons

The term ‘Janeite’ that is usually given to Jane Austen fans was only invented in 1894 by George Saintsbury, a writer and literary historian.[1] Whilst this was nearly 80 years after the author’s death, this was mainly due to her unpopularity in the Victorian period. To the Victorians, Jane Austen’s novels didn’t conform to their ideals as her heroines were “ungenteel” and they often made fun of the clergy.[2] It was only after the publishing of her nephew James Edward Austen-Leigh’s biography of his little known aunt in 1870 that her image began to change to a domestic woman, reflecting Victorian expectations of femininity.[3] Whilst this helped to increase Jane’s popularity, it was only seen in a select group of people. The types of people known to be Janeites at this time were mainly men, which is surprising as contemporary society views Austen’s fans as largely women. These men were largely publishers, professors, novelists and other literati, including Montague Summers (novelist and clergyman), R. W. Chapman (editor of Jane Austen’s works) and E. M. Forster.[4] The status of these admirers meant that they flaunted the idea that they were part of a select cult who viewed her works as miracles that were above that of authors who others read.[5]

With the outbreak of the First World War, ideas on reading began to change. The National Home Reading Union’s Annual General Meeting just three months after the start of the war invited Michael Sadler, a recognised educationalist at the time to be a guest speaker. In his speech he suggested that reading was needed to keep “minds fresh and sane” and that reading “good fiction” would do this.[6] This appeal applied to those at home and on the front lines. The speech was then published and distributed to many soldiers’ camps to know this also applied to them.[7]

John Warwick Brooke, Highland Gas Sentry Reading a Letter from Home, National Library of Scotland

Reading fiction became a part of war life as it was an easy way to distract and provide entertainment but also bolstered patriotic sentiments.[8] The patriotic feeling this brought was by an increased understanding of what British culture was and what was at risk. To some, reading books was just as important as letter writing to loved ones back home as it helped to “overcome perceived boundaries between home and battle fronts” and helped maintain pre-war identities and interests.[9]

For Jane Austen’s novels, they often became a lifeline for fighting soldiers. Siegfried Sassoon was one of many who would have read Austen during his time in the trenches.[10] It’s claimed that Pride and Prejudice was the most read of all books by soldiers during the First World War.[11] There may be some truth in this as Austen and Dickens were the main authors prescribed by doctors to wounded soldiers and those suffering from shell shock.[12] Perhaps these choices were made because by the time of the First World War, Jane Austen had come to represent Englishness that soldiers were fighting for and helped give a nostalgic view that England had remained unchanged from the past which was seen in these Georgian era novels.[13] Unfortunately, those serving in the trenches were living a very different reality of war than George Wickham’s militia regiment. Surely though it would have made some difference of distraction to those who were bored or injured.

C.E Brock, ‘Love and Eloquence’ from Macmillan’s 1895 edition of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, British Library

The 6 novels of Jane Austen may have even been read out in groups. Reading in the trenches had to be more informal than people at home as it had to fit around active service.[14] To ensure this happened many charities were set up to send mainly donated books to the front lines. These included the Camp Libraries, Red Cross Library, St John’s War Library Committee and Worker’s Educational Association, who between them sent active and wounded soldiers, as well as prisoners of war.[15] Jane Austen’s books would have been included in these as ensuring that soldiers read good quality fiction was seen as a way of stopping them from seeking unacceptable entertainment elsewhere, particularly in taverns and brothels.[16]

World War One: Islington Public Library used as a hospital ward. Photograph by Langfier Ltd., 1916. Credit: Wellcome CollectionAttribution 4.0 International (CC BY 4.0)

Regardless of the reasons why Austen was given to soldiers to read, there is no doubting the unity a love of the author can bring, either today or in the past. This was something Rudyard Kipling knew in his story The Janeites he wrote about a group of WW1 soldiers who found solidarity over their love of Jane Austen. The story was published in May 1924 in an international magazine called Storyteller. The men purposefully named a loud gun Lady Catherine de Bugg as a joke about the infamous Lady Catherine de Bourgh from Pride and Prejudice.[17] The idea for the story came from a visit Kipling took to Bath in 1915 and from his time researching the history of his son John’s regiment, following his death in the First World War.[18] Following his son’s death, Kipling read aloud all of the Austen books to his family, using it as a tool for solace, just as many of the soldiers on the front also did.[19]

Just as we today often read Jane Austen as a source of refuge and distraction from difficult times, so did the soldiers having to endure the hell of the trenches. I only hope that it really did offer the comfort they craved and helped to be a defence against the war environment around them.[20] What is certain is that the popularity of reading books during the First World War had been vital for helping soldiers and civilians alike. By the end of March 1919, Britain had sent 16 million books to the front.[21] The Red Cross alone had sent 2.8 million donated ones and 1.2 brought ones to fill these frontline libraries.[22] Even on the Homefront the amount of patronage for public libraries increased.[23] Jane Austen’s works would have played a part in this. As William Dean Howells notes, Austen “has not yet died” because of her enduring popularity and this is even more the case during WW1 as it helped those in their time of extreme need and possibly even in their own dying moments.[24] No wonder that at the time she was seen as a redemptive figure who was part of England’s bygone glory and a symbol for a soldiers duty to protect it.[25]

[1] Johnson, C. L., Jane Austen’s Cults and Cultures (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2012), p. 8.

[2] Fullerton, S., Happily Ever After: Celebrating Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice (London: Frances Lincoln Limited, 2013), pp. 22-23.

[3] Fullerton, S., Happily Ever After, p. 23.

[4] Johnson, C. L., Jane Austen’s Cults and Cultures, p. 8.

[5] Johnson, C. L., Jane Austen’s Cults and Cultures, pp. 8-9.

[6] Liebich, S., ‘Reading as War Effort: The National Home Reading Union During the First World War’, First World War Studies (2015), p. 2.

[7] National Home Reading Union, ‘Work Among the Troops’, HRM, XXVI, no. 4 (Jan 1915) cited in Liebich, S., ‘Reading as War Effort’, p. 2.

[8] J. Potter, Boys in Khaki, Girls in Print: Women’s Literary Responses to the Great War, 1914-1918 (2005) cited in Liebich, S., ‘Reading as War Effort’, p. 2.

[9]  Liebich, S., ‘Reading as War Effort’, pp. 9-10

[10] Fullerton, S., Happily Ever After, p. 24.

[11] Fullerton, S., Happily Ever After, p. 24.

[12] Sutcliffe, M., ‘Reading at the Front: Books and Soldiers in the First World War’, Paedagogica Historica (2016), p. 5.

[13] Fullerton, S., Happily Ever After, p. 24; Roper, M., ‘Nostalgia as an Emotional Experience in the Great War’, The Historical Journal, 54.2 (2011), p. 441.

[14] Liebich, S., ‘Reading as War Effort’, p. 10.

[15] Liebich, S., ‘Reading as War Effort’, p. 11.

[16] Sutcliffe, M., ‘Reading at the Front’, p. 5.

[17] Fullerton, S., Happily Ever After, p. 24.

[18] Lewis, L. and Kieffer, G., ‘The Janeites’,

[19] Lewis, L. and Kieffer, G., ‘The Janeites’,

[20] Roper, M., ‘Nostalgia as an Emotional Experience in the Great War’, p. 439.

[21] Sutcliffe, M., ‘Reading at the Front’, p. 4.

[22] British Red Cross, What We Did During the War,

[23] A. Ellis, Public Libraries and the First World War (1975) cited in Liebich, S., ‘Reading as War Effort’, p. 2.

[24] William Dean Howells cited in Johnson, C. L., Jane Austen’s Cults and Cultures, p. 8.

[25] Johnson, C. L., ‘Jane Austen’s Cults and Cultures’ in Copeland, E. and McMaster, J. (eds), The Cambridge Companion to Jane Austen, Second Edition (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2011), p. 239.

The Origins of WW1 Remembrance in Britain

With the unprecedented mass horror and death that World War One brought, it became increasingly important to remember the fallen. The problem was how best to do that. The government wished to portray the war as one of victory, whereas the population wished to see it with grief and disaster in mind.[1] Regardless of the conflict surrounding how best to commemorate the sacrifice paid by those who served, the compromise of acknowledging the personal deaths and sacrifice of those who fought was found.[2] It was from then on that the idea of collective remembrance was born. As Winter and Sivan suggests, the remembrance themes that stem from World War One is about gathering pieces of the past and constructing them in places where the public can collectively participate in traditions together.[3] From then on, war would be remembered as a mix of horror and heroism together.[4]

The Great War in modern memory was certainly the first time that soldiers were memorialised and remembered on a large scale. Before WW1 the burial of soldiers was the responsibility of the unit and the recording of them was by either the officers or chaplains.[5] The idea of officially commemorating individuals, rather than just burying them in a mass grave, or if lucky to be identifiable, in an individual grave with a small marker, started with the creation of what would later become known as the Imperial War Graves Commission after a royal charter in 1917.[6] The Red Cross Burial Unit as it was initially called was set up by Fabian Ware to assist in the locating of bodies, marking of graves and creating purposeful military cemeteries that would support large numbers of burials.[7] This work of great importance would allow the unit to gain official recognition from the army, who by 1915 became part of the Graves Registration Commission.[8]

The grave markers used by the Imperial War Graves Commission all purposefully looked similar. Each grave was decorated with a headstone made from Portland stone from Derbyshire (sorry as a Derbyshire lass, had to throw that in).[9] This was to symbolise equality in the heroism of the soldiers’ death, regardless of rank, ethnicity or religion. If the individual could be identified, a symbol of their religion, name, rank, serial number and date of death were carved into the headstone.[10] Where the individual was not known, an inscription was placed on the headstone saying, “known unto God”.[11]

The work started by the Graves Registration Commission was the source for how we today view ‘unknown’ soldiers. The idea of commemorating the missing who had died in service with no known grave was a previously unheard-of practice before the Great War. With the large number of losses and mass conscription, it meant remembering the names of those involved in the conflict, whether missing or not, was of vital importance.[12] As Wilson suggests, the point behind graves and memorials to missing and unknown soldiers is so that sites for those living who cannot commemorate their own dead as there is no known grave, is so that they have somewhere to grieve without a physical grave present.[13]

Memorials and cemeteries during this time became national shrines for mourning and grief.[14] This representation only came out of the First World War due to mass conscription, meaning the whole nation was affected by war, rather than just a select few in previous campaigns who volunteered. As most towns, cities and villages across the nation had had casualties, it increased the need for a place of remembrance in the hometowns of those who were lost.[15] In a pre-WW1 setting without mass conscription, war memorials are an uncommon site. The ones that do exist are usually dedicated to the glory and bravery of such war heroes as Nelson and Wellington.[16] The images placed on them often involve fighting and violence of some kind, showing the glory of victory in wartime.

Waterloo Place and the Crimean Memorial, Look and Learn / Peter Jackson Collection / Bridgeman Images, 20th Century

It was the Crimean War that started to change the theme of memorials. The Crimean War is the first instance where memorials were dedicated to soldiers other than major generals. A plinth style memorial in Cheltenham is perhaps the first notable instance of this. Carved into it are the names of 27 soldiers and officers from Cheltenham that were killed during the conflict.[17] However, unlike most WW1 examples, the names of the officers and other soldiers are divided onto separate sides of the memorial.

The main memorial in Britain that was a result of the First World War was the Cenotaph in Whitehall. It was built as a temporary wooden structure as a main place for memorialising soldiers during Peace Day Celebrations in July 1919.[18] What was unforeseen was the public outpouring of grief at this place that was purposefully absent of any specific religious or national symbolism. This was so that it could signify an empty tomb and focus thoughts onto unity in remembering the suffering endured.[19] The memorial would become the place to go for those whose loved ones had no known grave and were unable to travel to the Western Front memorials.[20] From that moment, it was obvious that a permanent structure would have to be built in preparation for what would be the first Remembrance Day in November 1919.

Ken Welsh, Londoners celebrating Peace Day at the end of WWI (1919)

The first Remembrance Day on the 11th November 1919 would set the precedent for what has now been a century of memories and remembrance for those who fought in the First World War. However, how this was to be done was not set in stone until the actual day. The silence we now observe was carried out for the first time on that day.[21] So much so that all of London’s transport was brought to a halt.[22] The central focus of the mourning was in Whitehall around the still temporary Cenotaph. The heartbreak was so obvious that the only sound to cut through the silence was the sound of weeping.[23]

Programme for the unveiling of the Cenotaph and the burial of the Unknown Warrior, Westminster Abbey, London, 11 November 1920, Look and Learn/Peter Jackson Collection/Bridgeman Images

The thing I have never forgotten since I first studied this period in my second year at university is the story of a little boy who was there on that day with his widowed mother. During the silence, he asked her about whether his daddy was in the Cenotaph.[24] For me, I think that emotional story humanises the grief that perhaps we can feel so distant from a century after the conflict. Now it feels as though the gratitude to those now passed for their part in the conflict overtakes the feeling of loss that was so acute immediately after the conflict.[25] In these days when veterans of World War Two are getting fewer, it is still evident the loss and sacrifice they witnessed is within them, as seen in the recent D-Day commemorations. Still, we have the mass outpouring of grief and loss to thank for the remembrance traditions we still follow today.

It feels appropriate to end with the changed meaning of the Last Post. This simple bugle call, which is now often played so much for commemorations, was once just simply a way to mark the end of the day.[26] Now it exemplifies mourning for war dead. It is as if this sound puts into music what the hearts of a whole nation were feeling in the aftermath of a static and mechanical war. This small piece of music signifies the images of self-sacrifice, comradeship and solidarity that has since been associated with the activity of collective remembrance.[27]

[1] Turner, A. W., The Last Post: Music, Remembrance and the Great War (London: Aurum Press LTD, 2014), p. XVIII.

[2] Winter, J. M., Remembering War: The Great War Between Memory and History in the Twentieth Century (Yale: Yale University Press, 2006), p. 20.

[3] Winter, J. and Sivan, E., ‘Setting the Framework’, in Winter, J. and Sivan, E. (eds), War and Remembrance in the Twentieth Century (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999), p. 6.

[4] Winter, J. and Sivan, E., ‘Setting the Framework’, p. 9.

[5] Maggio, A., ‘The Memory of War: The Role of the Commonwealth War Graves Commission in the Identification and Memorialisation of Missing and Unknown Soldiers from WW1’, Limina: A Journal of Historical and Cultural Studies, 23.2 (2018), p. 32.

[6] Maggio, A., ‘The Memory of War: The Role of the Commonwealth War Graves Commission’, pp. 31-32.

[7] R. Wilson, ‘The Burial of the Dead: the British Army on the Western Front, 1914-1918’, War & Society, 31.1 (2012) cited in Maggio, A., ‘The Memory of War: The Role of the Commonwealth War Graves Commission’, p. 32.

[8] (Accessed 18/06/19)

[9] (Accessed 18/06/19)

[10] R. Wilson, ‘The Burial of the Dead: the British Army on the Western Front, 1914-1918’, War & Society, 31.1 (2012) cited in Maggio, A., ‘The Memory of War: The Role of the Commonwealth War Graves Commission’, p. 32.

[11] Maggio, A., ‘The Memory of War: The Role of the Commonwealth War Graves Commission’, p. 34.

[12] J. Winter, ‘Sites of Memory and the Shadow’, in A. Erll and S. Young (eds), Cultural Memory Studies: An International and Interdisciplinary Handbook (2013) cited in Maggio, A., ‘The Memory of War: The Role of the Commonwealth War Graves Commission’, p. 33.

[13] R. Wilson, ‘The Burial of the Dead: the British Army on the Western Front, 1914-1918’, War & Society, 31.1 (2012) cited in Maggio, A., ‘The Memory of War: The Role of the Commonwealth War Graves Commission’, p. 34.

[14] G. L. Mosse, ‘National Cemeteries and National Revival: The Cult of the Fallen Soldiers in Germany’, Journal of Contemporary History, 14 (1979) cited in Macleod, J., ‘Britishness and Commemoration: National Memorials to the First World War in Britain and Ireland’, Journal of Contemporary History, 48.4 (2013), pp. 648-649.

[15] Davidson, A., ‘War Memorial Landscape Heritage in England’, Garden History, 42 (2014), p. 59

[16] Davidson, A., ‘War Memorial Landscape Heritage in England’, p. 58.

[17] Davidson, A., ‘War Memorial Landscape Heritage in England’, p. 59.

[18] Johnson, D. A. and Gilbertson, N. F., ‘Commemorations of Imperial Sacrifice at Home and Abroad: British Memorials of the Great War’, The History Teacher, 43.4 (2010), p. 575.

[19] Johnson, D. A. and Gilbertson, N. F., ‘Commemorations of Imperial Sacrifice at Home and Abroad’, p. 563.

[20]Johnson, D. A. and Gilbertson, N. F., ‘Commemorations of Imperial Sacrifice at Home and Abroad’, p. 575.

[21] Turner, A. W., The Last Post: Music, Remembrance and the Great War (London: Aurum Press LTD, 2014), p. IX.

[22] Turner, A. W., The Last Post: Music, Remembrance and the Great War, p. X.

[23] Turner, A. W., The Last Post: Music, Remembrance and the Great War, p. XII.

[24] Turner, A. W., The Last Post: Music, Remembrance and the Great War, p. XII-XIII.

[25] Davidson, A., ‘War Memorial Landscape Heritage in England’, p. 61.

[26] Turner, A. W., The Last Post: Music, Remembrance and the Great War, p. 2.

[27] A. Fletcher, ‘Patriotism, Identity and Commemoration: New Light on the Great War from the Papers of Major Reggie Chenevix Trench’, History, XC (2005) cited in Bartie, A., Fleming, L., Freeman, M., Hulme, T., Readman, P. & Tupman, C., ‘”And Those Who Live, How Shall I Tell Their Fame?”: Historical Pageants, Collective Remembrance and the First World War, 1919-39’, Historical Research, 90.249 (2017), p. 639.