As a child, I used to stare at the framed set of medals, accompanied by a bronze plaque and scroll, that were earned by my great-uncle Peter. When my grandfather passed away, I inherited great-uncle Peter's medals. Something within me longed to know "what happened" to the young man whose face stared back at me from the photo that was inset to that frame alongside of his medals, memorial plaque and scroll. By chance, I found the war diary for the battalion. It may be sheer coincidence but upon reading the battalion records for that dreary day in November when uncle Peter entered into glory, I found that there was only one soldier whose deeds were significant enough to be recorded in the diary: this was an account of how the lone soldier charged forward to deactivate a German machine-gun post in order to save his platoon. The adjutant recorded that "this soldier's whereabouts remain unknown". When I cross-referenced how many soldiers from that day were awarded gallantry records, uncle Peter was the only one among the seventh Gordons who received the Military Medal (two below the Victoria Cross for bravery) and yet whose remains are still missing. For me, Peter was the young soldier whose deed in taking out that machine gun emplacement. The only Gordon who is yet missing who received a gallantry award for the famous breakthrough at Beaumont-Hamel. The scroll that accompanies uncle Peter's medals concludes "Let those who come after see to it that his name be not forgotten". Lest we forget those young men who, like my uncle Peter, braved the cold and wet, the loneliness and fear, and who paid the ultimate sacrifice to save their friends and comrades. No one wins in war. When I review the generations who have come after uncle Peter's brother, my great-grandfather, I often reflect upon just what uncle Peter gave up that day. And I want him to know, across the gulf of time and circumstance that he is indeed not forgotten, and that those of us who carry his same blood in their veins, shall never forget. May the horrors of what uncle Peter faced that cold morning in November, 1916, be not for naught. May the intervening years preserve his memory so that we may reflect upon the futility of war, the sanctity of democracy, and the fragility of humanity. Though his earthly remains are yet united with the soil of the lands where he sought to win a better future, may his spirit ever persist so that his sacrifice be never in vain. It is difficult to comprehend what motivated a 19 year old boy from Aberdeenshire to risk his very life to save his entire platoon, but let that his story can now be told inspire each one of us to take up that torch which has now been passed, in the same spirit, to ensure that truly, his name be not forgotten. 

Josh Watt