Fairly recently it was
Remembrance Sunday, the 11th day of the 11th month. It's known by other names in other countries but its purpose is always the same, to remember and honour the fallen. It's difficult to 'remember' people who died before you were even born, sometimes in countries that you've never even visited. It's far too much of an abstract concept for an autistic person like me. However I learned, as a boy, to understand the concept of remembrance by fixing my thoughts on just
one, of the many who have fallen.
As a boy at school, while doing a project on the First World War, I came across a passage in a book that mentioned
John Travers Cornwell, generally known as
Jack Cornwell or
Boy Cornwell. Unlike famous generals, who to me were just meaningless names, facts and figures, Jack was a boy just like me. He was a little older than I was at the time but he was still a boy, I could identify with him. He made remembrance personal for me, he gave it a meaning. Jack died just after the
Battle of Jutland in June 1916, age 16 and 5 months. He was awarded a posthumous
Victoria Cross, the highest British award for gallantry. He was the youngest recipient of it in World War I, the youngest naval recipient and third youngest recipient ever.
Jack was from a working class family. He left school and worked as a delivery boy, he was also a member of the fledgling boy scout movement. Jack lied about his age in order to join the navy, as he was only 15. He completed his naval training to become a Boy: First Class and he was posted to
HMS Chester, a newly built light cruiser, as the fore gun's sight setter. A month later, on 31st of May 1916, Jack's ship took part in the greatest naval battle of World War I. Jack's ship engaged
three enemy ships and sustained 17 hits from shells. One of the first shells killed or injured most of Jack's gun crew. He was the only one left standing, although he'd also been mortally wounded by shrapnel. And stand he did, in a spreading pool of his own blood. Jack remained on duty at his post for almost twenty minutes, until the ships disengaged and he was taken to the sick bay. He'd remained at his post, he explained, 'In case he was needed.' When he died in hospital on 2nd of June 1916 be was buried in an unmarked communal pauper's grave, alongside two dozen other corpses. His family couldn't afford to bury him privately.
However, when news of his gallantry became known, Jack's body was disinterred and he was reburied with full military honours, in the largest British state funeral of World War I. The Battle of Jutland was a nominal victory for Britain but at a
great cost in ships and in lives. In order to lift the nation's spirits, the country needed to hear something positive. What better way than the tale of a brave young sailor boy who did his duty and gave his life for his king and his country? Jack became in a effect a poster boy for all the young servicemen fighting in World War I. King George V presented Jack's mother with a Victoria Cross, which Jack had been awarded posthumously. Lord Baden Powell posthumously awarded the Boy Scout's highest award to Jack and instituted a new award for bravery, named after Jack, which is awarded only in rare and exceptional circumstances. It is still awarded to this day. Jack became a national phenomenon. His picture was in newspapers and copies of it were sent to ever school, to serve as a example to pupils of how they should live their lives, honorably and bravely. A newsreel of his state funeral was shown in cinemas. A book was quickly penned about his brief life and noble death. Jack's face adorned cigarette cards, postcards and fund raising stamps. Several portraits of him were painted, most of which were based on a single iconic photo of 'Jack.' This one.
If you are observant you'll have noticed that in the painting Jack's hat bears the name
HMS Chester, which was his ship. In the photograph however the name on the hat is
HMS Lancaster. This was another 'town class cruiser' but Jack didn't serve on it. So why was he wearing that name on his hat? The simple answer is that he wasn't.
Jack's lonely and heroic death was sad but even sadder for me is a little known fact about Jack. His family were very poor, so poor in fact that during his short life they couldn't afford to have his photo taken. In plain English,
there are no photographs of Jack Cornwell.
Like me, trying to put a face to the abstract concept of 'remembrance,' the British public back in 1916 wanted to put a face to the brave and heroic boy who'd earned a Victoria Cross at the Battle of Jutland and had become a national hero. They wanted to put a human face to the story, they wanted to see a picture of Jack. The establishment obliged them by arranging for a photograph to be taken. The boy in the photograph was
George Cornwell, Jack's brother, who apparently bore a strong resemblance to Jack. So in a double tragedy the war robbed Jack of his life and in effect it also robbed George not only of a brother but also of his own identity, as ever since then that photo has always been associated with
Jack and not with George.
George was also asked to pose for a oil painting that commemorated Jack's heroic action.
So these days on Remembrance Sunday I remember not only Jack but also George.
