Eulogy

Capt Joseph Eastwood MBE CQSW - 5th November 2017

Joe was the original editor with Colin Boutty of the legacy website

Learn more about Joe Eastwoods life and service

See a list of Lancashire Fusiliers Obituaries

Introduction by Raymond Cunningham

Dear Friends,

May I on behalf of Joseph’s family extend a warm sincere welcome to you all. Many of you have travelled long distances to pay your respects to our beloved Joseph, and seeing so many of you here is a sure sign of how loved and respected he was.

My closest and dearest friend Joseph and I have experienced much since our first meeting in 1971 just outside the main gates of Brook Barracks Berlin.

I would need hours to explain the occasional heartaches together with immense fun and joy we have both shared over the years. Sadly time now will not permit that but I will be around should anyone have questions later.

Joseph and I were in Bury a few years ago with our happy gang -Des Sinclare, David Prince and Keith Benner. We were probably in Wetherspoons or the White Lion I forget which but once seated with a drink I overheard a old group of Fusiliers at a nearby table remark in subtle tones as only Fusiliers can that we in the Royal Regiment of Fusiliers are

“All Brothers from Different Mothers” I instantly loved that statement very much because I thought it so true.

Joseph and myself enjoyed many years attending together past and present gatherings of Fusiliers going to Bassingbourne, Catterick, Birmingham and of course countless times to his beloved Bury. Always meeting up with the gang and all our dear friends who live in Bury and surrounding area.

Joseph,I and the gang were also now blessed with a much loved addition to our group a chap called Allan Stott and together we all travelled several times to visit the battlefields of the Somme, Ypres and later Monte Cassino in Italy to pay our respects to our fallen heroes. We always managed to have great fun and laughter after we payed due homage and respect to the fallen.

From the bottom of my heart I tell you that Joseph and myself were closer than family. Joseph,Jane and Alice Violet became my family years ago.

As I sat by Joseph’s bed in Addenbrooks Hospital frequently holding his hand occasionally moistening his lips with water the time was the early hours of Saturday 4th of November my mind took me back to remember the countless times that Joseph was always the leading light ,a gifted orator,a Witty funny man, creative and possessed of an immense intellect and intelligence, always able to solve a problem and provide wise council.

My mind then moved for a reason I know not onto Joes garden which I have walked in sat in and with Joe drank large amounts of alcohol in, I have also helped pull out large amounts of weeds.

If you have never had the good fortune to walk with Joseph in his garden which he adored he would irritatingly always describe a flower or shrub by its scientific name which I never had a clue what he was on about for me the plant/flower was either blue green red or yellow. Joseph eventually would tell me what the hell the plant was in Fusilier speak.

Whilst all this was buzzing around in my head I started to sob only to shortly feel a comforting arm of the night duty nurse on my shoulder she said nice words and I must say the staff were wonderful to Joseph his family and all who came to see him.

To end my friends I would like to read a piece written by Canon Henry Scott Holland in 1915 which for me says what is in my heart.

DEATH IS NOTHING AT ALL

Death is nothing at all it does not count. I have only slipped away into the next room. Nothing has happened. Everything remains exactly as it was, I am I and you are you, and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged.

Whatever we were to each other, that we still are. Call me by my old familiar name. Speak to me in the easy way you always used. Put no difference into your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity, or sorrow.

Laugh as we always laugh at the jokes that we enjoyed together,play,smile,think of me, pray for me, let my name be ever the household word that it always was. Let it be spoken without effort, without ghost of a shadow upon it. Life means all that it ever meant.

What is death but a negligible accident? Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just around the corner. All is well.nothing is hurt. Nothing is lost. One brief moment and all will be as it was before. How we shall all laugh at the trouble of parting when we all meet again.

God Bless Mon Brave Your Friend Ray.