The Banstead Image Library
Banstead remembers
The work of the Banstead History Research Group over the last fifteen years has resulted in the identification of all the men listed on the Banstead War Memorial and a compilation of fifty-six photographs were on display at the Remembrance Sunday Service.
The weather was kind and a packed crowd remembered the men who gave their lives in both World wars.
As we remember these men today, a young boy, fifteen-year old Joshua Dyer, wrote a poem at school.
One Thousand Men Are Walking
By Joshua Dyer
One thousand men are walking
Walking side by side
Singing songs from home
The spirit as their guide
they walk toward the light milord
they walk towards the sun
they smoke and laugh and smile together
no foes to outrun
these men live on forever
in the hearts of those they saved
a nation truly grateful
for the path of peace they paved
they march as friends and comrades
but they do not march for war
step closer to salvation
a tranquil steady corps
the meadows lit with golden beams
a beacon for the brave
the emerald grass untrampled
a reward for what they gave
they dream of those they left behind
and know they dream of them
forever in those poppy fields
there walks one thousand men
Picture added on 10 November 2019 at 16:39
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Remembrance day
Remembrance day
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Banstead History
Banstead History
We knew him as pop reader a teacher one felt comfortable with. Yes a lovely man
Added by Irvine Eastwood on 23 November 2019
George Wingrove, of Buff House, Banstead is my Great Great Uncle. I'm so pleased that he is remembered here. He died aged 16 on HMS Formidable, 1 January 1915. His loss to the family was a tragedy. I treasure one of his buttons with a photo of him, a momento that his sister kept, and has been handed down.
Added by Helen Averley on 20 September 2020
Banstead
His father was Charles Edward Reeder, who taught technical drawing at Banstead County Secondary Boys School in Picquets Way. I was a pupil at Picquets Way in the 1950s, and for reasons now lost in the mists of time, we called him ‘Bert’.
I remember Bert Reeder as a quiet, courteous and thoughtful man – unusual qualities, you might say, for a teacher in a school where the kids were pretty robust. It wasn’t until Lewis published his book in 2010 (fifty years after I left school) that I had any inkling of the grievous personal tragedy that Bert (and, of course, his wife Clara) suffered. He never spoke about it, never even alluded to it – and I’m certain that no-one at the school knew about his loss either, because word would most certainly have spread.
Looking back all these years later, I’d describe Bert Reeder as one of the gentle, stoic, unsung heroes of Banstead, and I pay belated tribute to him on this Remembrance Sunday in 2019.