The Countryman’s Daughter

Don’t call me Nanny!

My boys with their Dutch grandparents, who were known as Opa (Grandad) and Oma (Grandma). At home, we used Nonny and Grandad to refer to their English grandparents.

A couple of weeks ago I discussed the subject of nominative determinism where a person ends up in a career that reflects their surname. My ballet teacher was called Miss Toes, and my son reminded me that his boss, who was a joiner, was called Mr Stick. Such names sound like characters from Roger Hargreaves’ Mr Men books, with famous examples including Mrs Berry the Baker (Mary), Mr Bolt the Sprinter (Usain), Miss Stepanova the Hurdler (Marina), and Mr Crapper the Sanitary Engineer (Thomas)

Lynn Catena used to know a music teacher called C. Sharp, and Deborah Steed revealed: “My husband worked at a bank with a guy called Nick Money and I used to refer clients in need of a medical to Dr Death.”

I’m not sure how I’d feel being sent to see Dr Death! I am sure there are many more wonderful examples out there, so do get in touch if you have any to share.

I was contacted by Mary Harrison again after she’d read my column featuring her story about a new baby named ‘Mr Harry’ after her husband, who’d raced the expectant parents to hospital in his car.

“Great amusement among my family to see my name in print!” she says. “Since our 55-year-old son was four when we left Kenya, Mr Harry will probably be 51. Sadly, we have no photographs of him; but if he went on to secondary school he would probably have changed his name. Pupils had to confirm their names when filling in the forms for their final exams, and were told they would not be able to change them again afterwards…thank you for all the interesting articles you write!”

I also revealed last week that my sister and husband are due to become grandparents in May next year, and are wondering what they might be called when the time comes.

Alison Davies got in touch to say: “I’m plain old Grandma but love it. I have two beautiful grandsons. I think you refer back to what you called your own grandparents. I’m not a fan of Nanna – just personal preference…My mum as a great grandma is known as GG.”

She is not the only GG I’ve come across. Mary Raynar says: “I’m Granny. My granny was Nanna and my mum was Granny Marie to my children and GG to her great grandson.”

In my own case, we referred to my grandparents as Nana and Grandad Walker and Nana and Grandad Smith, which seems quite formal. By the time my own children were born, Nana Walker was the only remaining great grandparent, and they referred to her less formally as Nana Mary.

Billy Goode states firmly: “It’s Granny and Grandad. If you’re another name you’re the secondary grandparents.” He’s saying that tongue in cheek, of course, and clarifies: “I’m just making the point that everyone thinks what they say is the right one! My mum had a nana not a granny. I’ll ask Dad what he had!”

I wonder if there is competition between the opposing ‘grands’ as to nabbing the preferred term first. For my children, the boxing gloves were not needed because their paternal grandparents were Dutch, and thus Oma and Opa.

Janet Pearce has a lovely name: “I am Bibi, which is Swahili for grandmother because I was born in Tanzania and my daughter suggested it.”

A friend suggested it should be up to the children to decide what they want to call their grandparents (which is how my mum came to be Nonny). But of course, these names only come about once your baby can talk, and so a decision does need to be made before that. Some grandparents can be quite determined, as Clare Proctor discovered: “My maternal grandmother was something of a snob and said she was Grandma, not Nanny, because “Nannies are people you pay to look after the children!” I became a Grammy in April – my daughter suggested it as an alternative to Granny, which I thought I would hate (so aging, darling!) but actually I am so besotted with my beautiful granddaughter that I don’t care what she calls me!”

And that is a sentiment that I am sure I will share if I am ever fortunate enough to experience grandparenthood.

Do you have opinions, memories or ideas to share with me? Get in touch with me using the ‘Contact’ button on the top right.

This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 28th and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 26th Nov 2025

A war to remember

The Alamein Memorial at the entrance to the El Alamein War Cemetery in Egypt which commemorates WW2 fallen servicemen who fought in the North Africa campaign and whose remains have never been found. Lynn Catena’s uncle, Arthur Pearce, can be found on Column 32 (Picture CWGC)

The huge El Alamein War Cemetery in Egypt which commemorates more than 20,000 fallen servicemen (Picture CWGC)

In response to my column about the six Smith Brothers of Barnard Castle, five of whom were killed in World War I, Lynn Catena contacted me to say: “My mum’s brother was killed in action on December 19th, 1941, at 24 years of age. Apart from a tatty telegram there was no further word (that I know of). Several years ago I discovered the Commonwealth War Graves Commission (CWGC). I messaged them with the scant details I had and within 24 hours they responded with a list of the deceased (including my uncle), along with the cemetery and memorial reference. His name is etched on Column 32 at the Alamein Memorial in Egypt. He was my grandparents’ only son.”

His name was Arthur Pearce, and Lynn’s grandmother was long gone before the record was found. I can’t imagine the grief she must have suffered knowing her only son died in a country more than 3,000 miles away. The lingering pain of not knowing where his remains lay, of not being able to visit his final resting place, must have been acute. Did the fact that many other familles were suffering in the same way at the same time help, alongside the fact that they died heroes defending the freedom of their home and country? Sadly, most of those who could answer this question are no longer with us, but do let me know if you have ever spoken to your relatives about it. They came from a generation that was not used to discussing such deep internal emotions, and therefore may not ever have felt able to express their memories openly.

Lynn’s message prompted me to visit the CWGC website again, to see if I could find her uncle’s record – and sure enough I did, but not before I had to scroll past pages and pages of names engraved on the Alamein Memorial. It was truly sobering to see hundreds of fallen men, most of whom were aged in their 20s and 30s. The oldest was 50, and the youngest a mere 16 years old. They came from the various countries that united in the North Africa campaign to oppose German and Italian forces in a battle over control of the Mediterranean. The sea gave access to the East via the Suez Canal, a vital supply route leading to Russia via the oil-rich Middle Eastern block. As well as the UK soldiers from the Royal Artillery, there was air support from Australia, and infantry from New Zealand, South Africa and a few other countries.

What caught my attention was that 9th December 1941 was a particularly bad day for casualties. Where most dates listed from a few deaths into the 10s and 20s, on 9th December more than 300 servicemen were killed. My knowledge of WWII is what you might call at ‘headline’ level, and I know even less about the North Africa campaign. I felt I owed it to the men whose memorial I was looking at to educate myself a bit more.

The 9th December 1941 was just two days after the Japanese bombing of the US naval base Pearl Harbour on the island of Hawaii which prompted the States and a number of other countries to officially enter the war. It was also around the mid-point of Operation Crusader, the allied offensive to once and for all take the strategically important Mediterranean port of Tobruk on the north Libyan coast, 150km west of the border with Egypt. Rommel’s German troops supported by Italian allies had been trying to capture the port since the previous April in what is called The Siege of Tobruk. The new offensive, made up of British, Indian, New Zealand, South African and Free French forces, drove the Germans and Italians back into Libya enabling allied troops to gain firm control of the port.

The Alamein Memorial forms part of the huge El Alamein War Cemetery where more than 20,000 fallen commonwealth soldiers are commemorated. There are around 8,000 graves (812 of which are unidentified), and nearly 12,000 more names listed on the memorial because, like Lynn’s uncle, their remains have never been located.

Statistics like that make me grateful that I have never had to face the horror of a world war. I hope such a thing is never allowed to happen again.

Do you have opinions, memories or ideas to share with me? Get in touch with me using the ‘Contact’ button on the top right.

This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 21st and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 19th Nov 2025

Hey Nonny! No?

My niece Eleanor and husband Ben shared some exciting news this week! Baby Walker is due in May next year!

Do you remember two weeks ago I mentioned that I had no immediate relatives that would be able to carry on the family name of Walker? That was until my niece Eleanor happened to marry into a totally separate family of Walkers.

Her mum, my sister Janet, was delighted: “It’s lovely to have another Walker back in the family.”

Having read the column, my own mum said: “I wasn’t bothered to lose my surname ‘Smith’ as there were still millions of ‘Smiths’ in the world. But now I’m a ‘Walker’ and there are millions of them too!”

Alison Davies recommended a rather drastic way to reclaim your own surname: “Get divorced! I did and went back to my family name.” She adds: “I did sneak Davies in as a middle name for my eldest.” Although having said that, getting divorced is not that drastic if you consider around half of us married people do it in the end.

Jane Ridley did the same as Alison when naming her son: “I couldn’t bear to give up my maiden name as I’m the last of the Ridleys. Bobby’s middle name is Ridley. My husband’s middle name is his grandmother’s maiden name of Powell.”

Since I’ve become aware of the convention of preserving a family name in children’s middle names, I discovered that so many people have embraced it, and yet it never occurred to me to do it with any of my boys.

Sarah Mason says: “Both my boys have Mason as part of their middle names. I wanted them to have my surname somewhere! Hopefully they might continue the tradition, although it may well be difficult for my youngest as his partner is from Chile and they keep their mother’s surname and just add to it.”

That’s an interesting convention, and I feel it’s rather enlightened of Chile to ensure the female name is so prominent. But does it also mean that it leads to really long surnames?

Janet Pearce adds: “My late husband was the last male of his family to have children. He had three sons but none of them have had children and are unlikely to, so that branch of the family name will die out. He was sad about it, but I don’t worry about these things!”

Kate Broad says: “I will never understand why women changed and continue to adopt their husband’s name.”

And I agree to some extent, because if I had my time again, I probably would not adopt my husband’s name, or at least would combine mine and his in some way.

Clare Powell’s family used an interesting method to preserve a name: “My husband’s dad had Slingsby as a middle name, as did his grandfather. It was a family surname, but we didn’t use it – unless you count naming the cat Slingsby!”

Of course, we live in a patriarchal society that has been that way for centuries, where the male line dominates. But there are cultures across the world where women have always led the way. In India, the Khasi tribe has a matriarchal structure where children take on their mother’s name and girls inherit the wealth. Mosuo (China) and Minangkabau (Indonesia) both have matriarchal societies where women are heads of the household and property is passed down the female line. In Kenya there is a village called Umoja which was founded by women who rebelled against patriarchal oppression and domestic violence.

Since I wrote my original piece, I have received some absolutely wonderful news! Eleanor and husband Ben are expecting their first child and Baby Walker is due in May next year. It is all rather fitting, because both my dad and myself were born in May (and even though it is not our family branch, we are very happy to hang on to the coattails of another set of Walkers!).

My sister and imminent grandparent Janet is debating how she would like to be referred to once the baby comes along. Should she be Granny, Grandma, Nan or Nana? Families often have their own quirky names for grandparents and I’ve heard ‘Gangan’, ‘Pops’ and ‘Runny and Dumper’. When my eldest began to talk, he could not pronounce ‘Granny’ and so my mum became ‘Nonny’. Twenty-nine years later, Nonny she remains.

Did you call your grandparents anything unusual? Let me know!

Do you have opinions, memories or ideas to share with me? Get in touch with me using the ‘Contact’ button on the top right.

This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 14th and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 12th Nov 2025

Baby naming keeps us on our toes

Rob Ainsley’s mum Barbara holding a 1961 photo of her sons John (left) and Rob. She was so convinced Rob was going to be a girl she didn’t have a boys’ name ready when he was born.

Rob Ainsley and his mum Barbara at a recent family wedding.

Not since I wrote about the highly controversial topic of Yorkshire puddings back in 2019 have I received as much reader feedback as I have about family names. It has been fascinating to hear all your stories.

Mary Harrison wrote: “My husband and I were reminded of the time we were teaching in Western Kenya. One of the workers on the compound rushed round to ask John to take his pregnant wife to the hospital…John says he had never driven so quickly as she was already in labour. A few hours later we had a visit from the proud father to tell us his new son had been called ‘Mr Harry’ (after Harrison) – in recognition of John’s help.”

When I was pregnant with my first child, I used to refer to my baby as ‘he’ for no other reason than ease. By then, the mid-1990s, you could find out the sex at your 20-week scan, but we had no desire to know in advance. During one examination, as my midwife felt around my large bump, we were discussing the imminent arrival. When I used the word ‘he’, she stopped, looked up and said: “You mean she.” I was shocked, and a little upset, because she knew I wanted to experience that ‘Ahhh, it’s a boy/girl’ moment when you meet your baby for the first time. But how could she tell? Was it the shape of my bump? Or was she using some midwifery magic to determine the sex?

From then on, I was convinced I was having a girl, although we made sure we had both female and male names ready. Of course, if you were paying attention in previous weeks, you will already know that my first baby was not a girl at all, and we called our little boy Oliver. It would have been Hannah had he been a girl.

Rob Ainsley contacted me to say: “My mum was so confident I was a girl, she’d decided on ‘Joan’. It was 1960, so way pre-scanning. When I popped out I clearly was a boy, so there was some hurried rethinking. Mum tried ‘Robin’, but Dad thought that wasn’t strong enough, so they compromised on ‘Robert’. I’ve never especially liked it, but I suppose ‘Joan’ could have been problematic for me in 1960s Britain. Not that it stopped the artist Joan Miró, of course.”

I’m intrigued as to why his mum was so certain he would be a girl when there was absolutely no proven way back then to know what sex your baby was going to be. Was it some old wives’ indicator, like a small neat bump meaning it was a going to be a boy, and a more spread-out bump was a girl, as I was told.

Clare Proctor says: “My mum was so convinced my eldest brother would be a boy that she refused to choose a girl’s name.” As Rob’s mother discovered, that kind of conviction is not always accurate, but in this case, Clare’s mum was spot on, and Peter was born in 1950. He made a rather exciting entrance into the world as Clare describes: “My dad had to deliver him in the back of a Land Rover with my mum (a trained midwife) telling him what to do, in between asking if it was a boy. He just said, “Let’s get it out first, then check!””

I asked Clare if he’d been nervous: “Apparently, he was surprisingly calm, but then he had been chased out of Burma (literally) by the Japanese army when he served in WW2, so I guess delivering a baby was a doddle!”

My first-born is now 29, and his partner Gigi messaged me on the subject of names: “Have you heard of nominative determinism? It’s a phenomenon where people with certain names end up in professional fields relating to the name, such as John Bones ends up a doctor, or Olivia Sweet becomes a pastry chef. It’s so interesting!”

My childhood ballet teacher was called Miss Toes and it always makes me giggle (it was probably spelled Toase but I didn’t know that when I was little!).

I bet some of you have some cracking examples of such names, and by now you should know the drill – get in touch using the methods below.

Do you have opinions, memories or ideas to share with me? Get in touch with me using the ‘Contact’ button on the top right.

This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 7th and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 5th Nov 2025

Royal intervention for grieving mother

Brothers John, Alfred, Frederick and George Smith from Barnard Castle who were all lost during World War I. The first son to be killed, Robert, is not on this photograph, so perhaps it was taken after he had died. Credit: Smith family

As we approach Remembrance Day (11th November), it seems appropriate to continue on the theme of the brave souls who perished while serving their country in war.

Claire Dunstan has been in touch to mention a memorial garden with benches that she remembers at the top of Broughton Road in the town of Malton. She says they were placed there as a tribute by school friends of the fallen men. I could find out very little about this small garden, so next time I am in Malton, I will go and have a look for myself (it is separate to the main Malton War Memorial at the junction of Horsemarket Road and Yorkersgate).

She also recalls: “There was woodwork by Mousey Thompson in the Green Man Hotel in memory of the Malton soldiers that never came home. Such a shame that it is shut now…the Mouseman furniture was paid for by family and friends.”

It makes me wonder what furniture it was and and in what form the soldiers were commemorated – presumably by having their names inscribed on the furniture? Perhaps there is someone reading this who knows the full story, and can tell us where that furniture ended up.

Claire used to live in the Welsh village of Llangwn which commemorated the 100th anniversary of the First World War in 2014 with a specially-written opera. According to the Llangwyn Local History Society, there were at least five sets of brothers from the area who served. One of the saddest stories involved the John brothers. In 1917, older brother Edwin John was shot at Lens in Northern France. His younger sibling, James, went to his aid but was killed while cradling his body.

The trauma experienced by families after such tragedy is hard to imagine, and similar stories will have been repeated time and again. But there can be few that are more poignant than the one to which reader Tony Eaton drew my attention. Tony first contacted me after reading my column mentioning the Pals Battalions a few weeks ago. This time he wrote: “On the theme of lost brothers…on the Barnard Castle War Memorial there are the names of five Smith brothers who died in World War I. There was a sixth son and their mother petitioned Queen Mary for help in having him brought home.”

Barnard Castle resident Margaret Smith suffered more than anyone should when she lost five of her six sons to WWI. Her story echoes the plot of the 1994 Steven Spielberg film Saving Private Ryan, where a group of soldiers are sent on a mission to locate James Ryan and return him to his family following the deaths of his three other brothers.

In our real life case, Private Robert Smith, 22, of the Durham Light Infantry, died on September 19, 1916, followed by Corporal George Smith, killed in action in November 1916, aged 26. Private Frederick Smith, aged 21, and eldest son John, 37, were killed in action in 1917. And lastly, Alfred, 30, perished in August 1918.

It was the local vicar’s wife, Mrs Bircham (not in fact the boys’ own mother) who was so moved by the tragedy that she felt compelled to write to Queen Mary, consort to King George V, on Margaret Smith’s behalf. She received the following reply from the Queen’s private secretary:

“I am commanded by the Queen to … convey to Mr and Mrs Smith of Bridgegate, Barnard Castle, an expression of Her Majesty’s deep sympathy with them in the sad losses they have sustained by the death of their five sons. He added that the Queen “has caused Mr and Mrs Smith’s request concerning their youngest son to be forwarded for consideration of the war authorities.”

With Her Majesty’s intervention, Margaret’s last remaining son, 19-year-old Wilfred, was allowed to return home to be with his mother. He went on to marry and have a family of his own, and died in 1968 at the age of 69. His descendants still live locally, and the war memorial featuring his five brothers’ names can be seen in the grounds of the Bowes Museum in Barnard Castle.

Do you have opinions, memories or ideas to share with me? Get in touch with me using the ‘Contact’ button on the top right.

This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 31st and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 29th Oct 2025

Walking the family line

My niece Eleanor preserved the family name by a happy accident when she married Ben. Picture by Bella Bradford Photography

You might remember that a couple of weeks back I talked about family names, and reader Wendy Sissons mentioned that her father’s side of the family use ‘Leedham’ as a middle name for some of the men in the family. She wasn’t sure where it came from, but assumed it was the surname of a relative.

Since then, I‘ve been talking to my mum, and she remarked that her eldest brother, Henry (b.1932), had the middle name ‘Harland’, which was the surname of their father’s mother. Her second brother, John (b.1935), was given the middle name ‘Lacy’ which was their mum’s maiden name.

Was this a convention to preserve the surnames of the female lines due to the fact that women surrendered their own surnames upon marriage? By including it as a given name in the male line of descendants it would not only ensure the ancestors were memorialised, but there would be less chance that the family names would vanish altogether, should there be no other males to carry it forward as a surname.

Do you know the middle names of your aunts, uncles and cousins? I certainly didn’t, and that’s where our family tree came in handy. Using that, I discovered that, interestingly, my Uncle Henry’s son, my cousin Richard (b.1964), was given the middle name ‘Lacy’, and he also passed it on to his own son Charles (b.1997). As far as I am aware, that’s where the references to the family name ‘Lacy’ end. I do wonder why Henry chose ‘Lacy’ for his son, rather than the ‘Harland’ of his own name, and I can’t see any others on the tree with that as a middle name either. My mum had five siblings in total, but the rest were all girls (my mum being the eldest, born in 1937).

I wonder if there exists a field of expertise that focuses on the history of surname usage, and how practices have changed down the centuries? A family name was, and still is, a source of great pride for lots of us, but with many women now opting to keep their own surname on marriage, there is perhaps less likelihood of them disappearing from the family line. It is also a fact that in 2025 there are more couples who choose not to get married at all and therefore the choice as to whether to keep your own or take on your spouse’s name is irrelevant.

When I was young, we associated double-barrelled surnames with ‘posh’ people, but today they are much more common among we plebs. Unmarried parents will often link their surnames together when children are born. There are also more divorces and more second marriages, and children born through a second marriage are sometimes given the surname of both parents combined which will also mean they have a name in common with their older step siblings.

I have mentioned before that I was married to a Dutch man, and in the more enlightened Netherlands, the convention is for women to keep their own surname which they add to that of their husband when they marry so that it becomes double-barrelled (with the woman’s surname last). However, it only applies to the wife, so any children born of that marriage will still have just the husband’s last name.

I divorced ten years ago, and kept my married name for a long time afterwards, simply because it was the same as my children who were still in their teens when we split up. I wanted to keep some kind of normalcy for them as we navigated a very difficult period. However, as they grew into adulthood, having the same name as them grew less important, while wanting to go back to my own became more so, particularly after I lost my dad and sister Tricia, who was still a Walker. With them gone, and my eldest sister Janet married and my Buddhist monk brother switching to a chosen Buddhist name, there was just my mum who still had the surname ‘Walker’. Therefore, once I took over these columns, I decided to reclaim my family name.

My little story doesn’t quite end there. My eldest niece, Eleanor Bradshaw – daughter of Janet – got married in 2023 and took her husband’s name.

And that name? Of course, it is Walker.

Do you have opinions, memories or ideas to share with me? Get in touch with me using the ‘Contact’ button on the top right.

This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 24th and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 22nd Oct 2025

A conventional name?

Reader Clare Proctor’s siblings in a photo taken in 1950s Tanzania, where they lived at the time. L-R: Janet (J.A.P), Michael (M.A.P) and Peter (P.A.P.).

My dad holding my eldest son Oliver Sebastiaan on the day he was born in April 1996. We had chosen names that we liked rather than ones passed down the family.

My middle son Jasper Marcus was named using the same initials as his Dutch father Johannes Marcus, and his grandfather, Jan Marie, seen here meeting him for the first time in 1998.

I’ve had some lovely messages on the subject of family names. A few weeks ago, we heard from Brian Reader who had ancestors called Rocious, Fera and Ellengor. Last week we also heard from David Severs, whose family passed down the biblical name ‘Lot’, and whose great grandfather James Foster was the boilerman at the local brewery in Thornton Le Moor. James’ employers had a daughter named Ethel Carlotta which is where David believes his great aunt Ada (the boilerman’s daughter) came across the fancy name ‘Carlotta’ which she chose for her own daughter and which handily incorporated the family preference of ‘Lot’. She called her son ‘Lancelot’, which she perhaps snaffled from the Arthurian legend for the same reason.

Vicky McDonald got in touch to say: “I have just read your article entitled “There’s a Lot in a name”. How fascinating and how strange that I should stare back at a photo of my Great Great Uncle Lance (or Lancelot as he is referred to in the article)! Lancelot married my maternal grandmother’s aunty (my Great Great Aunty Gladys). I have fond memories of them both.

“I would be grateful if you would be able to pass my email address on to David Severs mentioned in the article as it seems we are related. It would be lovely to get in touch with him.”

How wonderful that my little column is bringing families together! I have passed on Vicky’s email address to David and will let you know what transpires.

I also heard from Wendy Sissons: “Leedham as a middle name was passed down to the eldest son in my dad’s family. My dad’s dad was Ernest Leedham, his eldest brother was Eric Leedham and Eric’s eldest son, my cousin, is Paul Leedham.

“Funnily enough although my grandfather was Ernest, he passed that name onto my dad who was the third son after Eric and then Dennis. Presumably they didn’t like it enough to give to the eldest!”

Wendy is not sure where the name Leedham came from, but guesses it was the surname of an ancestor and adopted by their descendants at some point as a middle name to commemorate them.

Clare Proctor has an interesting story on the theme: “We don’t have unusual names in our family, but my Dad’s initials were A.A.P. so his four children were all given ‘A’ middle names. We are M.A.P., J.A.P., P.A.P. and C.A.P. Funnily enough, as my sister and I both married Ps, we remain so! Our two daughters have family names, but we chose them because we liked them, then made the link afterwards.”

Clare’s eldest daughter is Molly Paget after her mother’s name and mother-in-law’s maiden name. Her younger daughter is called Lily Alice-Rose which is a combination of both her and her husband’s grandmothers’ names.

Clare adds: “My friend knew a family in the USA with five daughters all named Mary, so there was Mary Jane, Mary Sue, Mary Ann etc!” Unless both parts of the name were used, it must have been very confusing when the postman delivered letters!

Is it something peculiarly American that we regularly see numbers after their male names? For example, former president Bill Clinton’s name at birth was William Jefferson Blythe III (i.e. the Third – he took his stepfather’s surname Clinton later in life). At birth, actor Will Smith was named Willard Carroll Smith II (i.e. the Second). This use of patronymic suffixes is considered a bit pretentious by we Brits because here, the convention is reserved for the Royal family and nobility only. Imagine if your relative started to refer to himself as ‘John Smith the Second’? We’d laugh him out of the building for getting ideas above his station wouldn’t we?

When it came to finding names for my own children, we did use some family names, although not with my eldest whose first and middle names were chosen simply because we liked them. Our second son had the same initials as his father and paternal grandfather because that was a tradition on that side of the family. Our youngest was named after my godfather and my dad, who were two of my favourite men of all time.

Do you have a story of an unusual way of choosing children’s names? Do get in touch using the methods below.

Do you have opinions, memories or ideas to share with me? Get in touch with me using the ‘Contact’ button on the top right.

This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 17th and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 15th Oct 2025

A battle to be remembered

A June 1961 image of Roye New British Cemetery at Somme in France showing the conifer tree to the right of the stone cross memorial (Photo Commonwealth War Graves Commission copyright).

My dad’s 1979 photo taken from a similar spot. The conifer has grown somewhat.

A couple of weeks ago, I featured an old photo of a graveyard on one of the Somme battlefields and asked for your help to identify which one.

As usual, you have come up trumps! Reader Andrew Jackson says: “I think the photograph was taken in Roye New British Cemetery.”

Andrew directed me to a website documenting World War I cemeteries and commemorating the men interred there. It has recent pictures of Roye New British Cemetery, but it was difficult to work out if it was the same place. It was only when I came across some older photos that I began to recognise it. There was one in particular taken in June 1961 from the same vantage point as mine. The fir tree to the right of the stone cross memorial gives it away – although by the time my 1979 image was taken, it had grown somewhat! In the more recent photos, the tree has gone which is why it was harder to identify.

What makes the website so moving is that they have tracked down photos of some of the men interred there, putting faces to the names on the rows and rows of silent headstones. It brings home the stark reality of the massive sacrifice made by the soldiers and the families that had to continue to live without them. Interestingly, there are no special places for the higher-ranked men, no separating the rank and file from the captains and majors. As reader Tony Eaton from Northallerton pointed out, in death, everyone is equal.

Tony, a self-confessed World War I ‘buff’, enlightened me on a few things. I had wondered if the army had stopped recruiting members of the same families into the same regiment as a result of the disastrous ‘pals’ initiative, where the army canvassed groups from the same locality, enticing them with the promise that they could serve alongside people they knew (in other words, their ‘pals’), rather than randomly being assigned to regiments. Unfortunately, because they served side by side, so they died side by side, leaving gaping holes in communities and families. The strategy was abandoned after the Battle of The Somme in July 1916.

Tony explained: “You mentioned family brothers joining up which was common in the early part of the war and many households lost several of their sons during that conflict, but far as I know there was no embargo on family groups joining up until 1915, when the Conscription Act was passed, becoming law in 1916.

“The Somme showed the folly of the Pals Battalions. Conscription was the way of recruitment due to high numbers of highly qualified specialist personnel being taken out of the industrial and scientific side of prosecuting the war. This act may have precluded brothers being called up until the desperate times of 1918.”

Tony also mentioned a friend of his, Stanley Bewsher from Ripon, who went ‘over the top’ on that fateful day in July 1916. Despite his comrades being gunned down around him, Stanley bravely forged on, picking up a discarded machine gun and advancing towards the enemy.

“He was then struck in the helmet by a shell fragment that indented it into his head. He was taken from the battlefield back to England and after lengthy treatment and rehabilitation stayed in the army acting as a driver…he was awarded the Military Medal,” says Tony.

Tony also explains that the casualties of the Somme battle, although high, were not quite as high as I mentioned. “It is generally accepted that the Allies suffered c900,000 to 1,000,000 casualties…I highly recommend a book by Gordon Corrigan entitled ‘Mud, Blood and Poppycock’ where Corrigan states that 74% of all British and Empire troops that fought on the Somme came out without the proverbial scratch. It is true that on 1st July only six miles of ground was captured, but by the end of the battle, the Germans began withdrawing behind the Hindenburg Line some ten miles eastward.

“The Battle of Arras campaign in the spring of 1917 had a higher rate of attrition, dead and wounded than did the Battle of the Somme.”

Whatever the true number, we must never forget the sacrifice of every singe person whose life was lost during that terrible time of war.

Do you have opinions, memories or ideas to share with me? Get in touch with me using the ‘Contact’ button on the top right.

This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 10th and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 8th Oct 2025

When a name means a Lot

Reader David Severs’ Auntie Carlotta’s grandfather James Foster standing next to his boiler at Baxter’s Brewery in Thornton Le Moor in the late 1800s

Reader Davis Severs’ Great Auntie Carlotta, far left, with her brother Lancelot standing behind their parents Ada and Robert Armin from Thornton Le Moor.

We return this week to the theme of unusual names. If you recall, Brian Reader contacted me about his quirkily-named relatives Rocious, Fera and Ellengor. In my piece I had found a number of Ellengors from the Northallerton and Bedale areas. They included Ellengor Barker (1862-1955), Ellengor Bramley (1871-1965), and Ellengor Barker Rollins (1889-1977).

After having read my piece, Brian got back in touch to say: “The Rollins and Bramley families are all related to Barker. The earliest Ellengor I have found so far was Ellengor (Ellen) Barker (nee Elliott) born in 1822 in Woodhouse and who died on 4th June 1887 in Northallerton. I have yet to follow up the Elliott family.”

As we have seen from the successive Ellengors, the same name used to live on in a family’s descendants for many years. I wonder if it was considered familial duty to pass down a name, or was it done just because people liked doing it? Today, new parents seem less inclined to follow the tradition, and I wonder why that is too.

Horacio Romeo, who reads my column online, has his own list of uncommon names. He said: “Living in Brazil, unusual names are quite usual to find…Azize, Kilber, Alison (male), Glademir, Suelí, Dagna, Adilson, Claudiceia…I can spend the whole day!”

David Severs comes from a family where quite a distinctive name persisted: “My grandfather Arthur Robert Foster was born at Thornton le Moor in 1879. His sister, Ada Mary Foster, had been born in 1874. Their father, James Foster, was the boilerman at Baxter’s Brewery in the village.

“Ada married Robert Armin, the Armins being a longstanding local family (There is still an Armin House in the village). Robert and Ada called their son Lancelot and their daughter Carlotta. I was always intrigued by my Auntie Carlotta’s comparatively unusual and quirky name, apparently common on the continent as a variant of Charlotte, but not in the UK.

“When I researched my ancestry I found that several successive generations of Armins had been given the biblical name Lot. It seems Robert and Ada did not want to follow the family practice but wanted to recognise it, so they called their offspring LanceLOT and CarLOTta.

“Although I had an explanation I was still intrigued by their use of the comparatively unusual name Carlotta.”

Some years later, David discovered what could be the answer when a history of the village was published in the year 2000 to mark the Millennium. The book explained that the driving force behind Baxter’s Brewery was a man called Newsome Baxter who died in 1889.

David continues: “He left the brewery to his son William Newsome Baxter who died only three years later. The brewery then passed on to William’s wife Emma, their two sons and their daughter Ethel Carlotta.”

It was the earliest date in his research that David had come across the name: “So now I knew whence Robert and Ada Armin found the name Carlotta.”

David did wonder what the wealthy and influential Baxters would have made of their lowly boilerman’s daughter snaffling the family name for her own child.

I’ve recently been watching the series ‘The Yorkshire Auction House’ which features Kirkbymoorside-based Ryedale Auctioneers and their charismatic owner Angus Ashworth. Angus was helping to clear the house of a retired policeman whose daughter was called ‘Myron’ or ‘Meiron’ (I only heard it so am unsure how it would be spelled). It was a new name to me and upon a quick Google I discovered ‘Myron’ is Greek in origin and is normally the male version of ‘Myra’. Meiron, however, is a Welsh girl’s name meaning ‘the admired one’.

This show has captivated me because it deals with a subject close to my heart, and one which almost all of us will have to face at some point in our lives – that of having to sort through the possessions of a loved one after they have passed away. What do we do with it all? It is a very emotional and difficult process, and I have to say that Angus and his team deal with it in a very sensitive manner.

My dad accrued so much ‘stuff’ over his lifetime that having someone like Angus on hand to deal with it all might be just what we need!

Do you have opinions, memories or ideas to share with me? Get in touch with me using the ‘Contact’ button on the top right.

This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 3rd and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 1st Oct 2025

Pals for all eternity

A photo taken by my dad in 1979 on our visit to the Somme battlefields. I’m not sure which cemetery it is, but it is possibly that of the Yorkshire Regiment. Please feel free to tell me if you recognise it.

Another photo taken on the same visit. Again not sure which cemetery but perhaps one of you know? Do get in touch if so.

When Brian reader contacted me about his quirkily-named relatives Rocious, Fera and Ellengor last week, he also posed a question about his family’s history of serving during World War I.

He explained how his forebears had joined up: “Albert and his brother John Elliott were both in the Northallerton Borough Band and in the 4th Battalion Yorkshire Regiment band. Rocious and two of his brothers were also in the Yorkshire Regiment, John Jackson and James Edward (killed in action in France in 1918).”

Brian posed the question: “What was the maximum number of people from the same family serving in the same regiment?”

I’m not sure if Brian meant what was the ‘permitted’ maximum of soldiers from the same family serving in the same regiment (if there was a limit), or whether he meant what is the ‘record’ for the most people from the same family serving in the same regiment. Large families were common in the early 20th century, so it was possible that the number could have been a pretty high.

However, my guess is that large families serving in the same regiment would only have been recruited before 1916. You might remember that back in 2019 I wrote a piece about my family’s 1979 visit to the battlefileds of the Somme in France when I was 12 years old. My young self failed to understand the significance of the ground upon which I walked.

When they launched their River Somme offensive on July 1st 1916, the British Army expected little German resistance after a sustained artillery bombardment the week before. They couldn’t have been more wrong, and within the first hour, almost 20,000 of the 120,000 allied troops lay dead, while 37,000 were wounded. The Battle of the Somme lasted 141 days and resulted in around 1.5 million casualties on both sides, yet enabled our troops to advance a mere six miles.

The awful death toll led to the military abandoning their recruitment strategy known as the ‘pals’ battalions. To encourage men to join up, the army had canvassed potential soldiers in groups from the same locality, from workplaces, towns, villages, sports clubs and practically any community with a common interest. They promised them that they could serve alongside their family, friends, neighbours and work colleagues (in other words, their ‘pals’), rather than the usual method of being assigned randomly to regiments. Entering the unknown with familiar faces next to you was far more attractive than being thrust into a war alongside total strangers. The drive was highly successful, with ‘pals’ battalions being established all over the country.

It’s worth remembering that most of the soldiers recruited from places like the North York Moors would be farmers and labourers who would never before have ventured far from their own homes. National Service didn’t come in until after the Second World War and so the training would have been extremely limited and the men would have little concept of the atrocities they were about to confront. Entering this scary and unfamiliar world would be easier if you had family and friends coming along with you.

Sadly, as men from the same places served side by side, so it meant they were killed side by side. It left gaping holes in the communities to which they belonged, and devastated families who had sent fathers, sons and cousins to fight. Certain areas suffered far higher losses than they otherwise would had they been assigned randomly to regiments. One of the worst affected was the East Lancashire Regiment, better known as the Accrington Pals. Of the 700 members who all came from in and around that Lancashire town, 235 were killed and 350 were wounded in the space of 20 minutes on the first day of the Battle of the Somme.

Following the carnage, the army reverted to more traditional methods of recruitment to avoid anything like it happening again. Therefore it is unlikely that a high number of people from the same family would have been enlisted to serve in the same regiment after that date.

I wonder if Brian’s ancestors were recruited through the ‘pals’ scheme to fight in WWI? And do you have relatives who joined up through the ‘pals’ scheme? I’d be interested to hear any interesting war stories, so do get in touch.

Do you have opinions, memories or ideas to share with me? Get in touch with me using the ‘Contact’ button on the top right.

This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 26th and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 24th Sept 2025