Remembering the Fallen

War Memorials in Cleethorpes Constituency

Compiled by Shona McIsaac MP

IT WAS THE GRAINY PHOTO OF A YOUNG MAN that started the journey for me. Like so many other people who have been on similar journeys of discovery, I found out that the young man in that old photo was my great-uncle. He was shot dead while on night patrol - another young life cut short in the carnage that was the First World War.

My paternal grandfather was the only one of his generation in my family to return home. Brothers, cousins, nephews and uncles were all lost. 'Pop', as we called him, witnessed the death of two of his cousins, struck down by the same shell in a neighbouring siege battery.

I've visited their graves and memorials. I've tracked down their obituaries in local newspapers - read the messages and poems written by bereaved families.

I grew up in a Forces family and, as is so typical of that upbringing, we were always on the move both at home and abroad - including a stint at NATO headquarters.

There were no British secondary schools on the base, so the usual route for Forces kids was to be sent to boarding school in England or to one of the army schools in Germany. But this wasn't good enough for my dad! He reasoned with the top brass that his daughters would learn more living in a foreign country than being shut away in a boarding school. And so it was that I ended up attending a Canadian School in Belgium!

The school took us to visit the battlefields where Canadians soldiers fell in the First World War - there was a solemn school outing to pay our respects at Vimy Ridge. I was struck by the stillness of the cemeteries - row upon row of white headstones, name after name after name on the memorials to the missing who had no known grave. So many were so young - just a few years older than me. It left a lasting impression.  

My parents also arranged visits to the war memorials and war cemeteries that peppered the landscape in that part of Belgium and northern France. Dad was always searching for our family on the memorials - looking out for the names of all the uncles and other relatives that fell. 

Following the family's return to England, I began to notice war memorials as well as memorial plaques and rolls of honour in churches. Here were the names of the boys who burying grounds I'd walked. Not being able to bring the dead home for burial, people craved a grave - somewhere to visit, to remember. As if to ease the hurt and grief, memorials were erected up and down the land. Not just for individual remembrance, but for society to remember - to never forget those who have lost their lives in conflict, past and present.

Each November, I lay a wreath in remembrance at the cenotaph outside St Peter's Church in Cleethorpes. As I stand for the silence, I think of all the cemeteries in foreign lands, the names on memorials here and abroad, of those who fight in our Armed Forces today.

When I was first elected, waiting in the bitter cold to lay my wreath, I made a promise to myself. That promise was to visit all the memorials in this large constituency, not matter how small the village, to pay my respects. And this I have done every year since.

But I wanted to do more...and so began this project. I wanted to find out about the people commemorated, the lives of their families and the world they grew up in. Where did they work? Did they marry? It was a time of great social change in Britain. Thousands of people flocked to Grimsby and Cleethorpes - attracted by the fishing industry and the docks.

This project is my act of remembrance to the communities of this constituency.

Most of the memorials I have visited are lovingly cared for. Some are neglected and weathered and need restoration. There are others that need to be conserved before lettering fades away and the names are lost.

If you have any information about the names of the people commemorated, I'd love to hear from you. Please email me on mcisaacs@parliament.uk.