Lest We Forget
(Written as a story stack)

A grey cloud hung over Ellen. (6)

A feeling of impending doom consumed her. As it did every family with a loved one overseas. The same sense of foreboding. She wasn’t alone. (25)

Relief when she received a letter from her oldest son Bill. He was writing to her from the Reading Hospital, Berkshire while recovering from a gunshot wound to his right arm. Assurances he was doing well and she found comfort in knowing he was in England, far from the frontlines. (50)

If she heard from her son Harry, she could take a break from constant worry. Should the war continue much longer she feared her third son, Joe, would follow his brothers.
Harry had enlisted just after his sixteenth birthday telling Ellen they took him because he was a strong build. In fact he had simply fudged his birthdate. If the recruiter suspected, he had turned a blind eye.
Both boys trained in Toronto while Ellen prayed the war would end before they could be sent over. But in the spring of 1917 both Bill and Harry would embark for England. (100)

Harry was sent to France. By August of that year he had been shot in the leg and shoulder and would be out of action for some time. Ellen convinced herself he would be home. He recovered and was sent back to the front.  
She checked the casualty list every day for names she knew; her sons, son-in-law and brothers.
Harry was on Ellen’s mind constantly after reading Bill’s letter. One son, safe in a hospital in England, the other - whereabouts unknown.

On September 16, 1918 her husband, the boy’s stepfather, checked the casualty list, as he did every day before handing Ellen the newspaper. On this day, he kept the paper folded under his arm and Ellen knew.

Harry’s name appeared with a list of others “killed in action”.

Her son Bill, her son-in-law and brothers came home.

Harry remained in France. Buried at Valley Cemetery, Vis-en-Artois, near Arras. (150)