A corner of a foreign field

I found the grave I was looking for. I’m not sure if or how we’re related but, unusual name and he came from Cheshire so I’m pretty sure he’s part of my extended ancestral family.
This is at Ferme Olivier cemetery near Ypres. He was in the Royal Welsh Regiment , but born and raised in England so I feel justified in quoting Rupert Brook’s poem


The Soldier
BY RUPERT BROOKE
If I should die, think only this of me:
      That there’s some corner of a foreign field
That is for ever England. There shall be
      In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
      Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam;
A body of England’s, breathing English air,
      Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.

And think, this heart, all evil shed away,
      A pulse in the eternal mind, no less
            Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;
Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;
      And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,
            In hearts at peace, under an English heaven.


The extra is some photos taken in Tyne Cot cemetery. Almost twelve thousand people buried there. A huge number “ known only unto God”