A silence, our heads are bowed, a prayer from the Mayor. In turn the boys read out the list of the fallen sons of the Great War, perhaps a dozen names from those awful days.  This would have been a village of around a hundred people.

There are still some harvests to gather in the garden – the last few marrows and gourds need to be picked before the frosts, and the rows of parsnips are now demanding to be harvested to provide winter delights such as parsnip chips and curried parsnip soup, which are practically unknown to the French.