Galloping Through

Tag: Family history

  • Veterans Day – November 11

    At the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month in 1918, Armistice Day marked the end of “the war to end all wars”. A noble aspiration perhaps, and pointless, obviously, but it established a day on which we celebrate Veterans of all wars.

    Harry in WWI uniform aboard Thomas Equinas

    Yes, Harry is a veteran, though not of World War I vintage. He was on River Patrol Boats in Vietnam, not on a chestnut Thoroughbred! But he had an old WWI uniform, and it fit.

    Here is actual photographic evidence of Harry’s service…

    A River Patrol Boat
    Harry with his Executive Officer and friend, Jim Pearce

    My Irish paternal family, the Barrys, sent three sons from two generations to both World Wars.

    Great Uncle Gerard Barry was badly wounded as a balloonist in the Royal Observer Corps, and later sadly died when accidentally shot by a sentry in Cork in 1921. I have his silver matchbox.

    Great Uncle John Redmond Barry was a decorated (CBE, DSO) Brigadier General in the Royal Army in the First War and the Second War, where he was among the last out of Dunkirk. While recovering from being seriously wounded at Passchendaele in WWI, he married Great Aunt Mary, a union that lasted 61 years.

    Great Uncle John was a horseman and a keen fox hunter. Visiting him in Wexford, when I was sixteen, had a profound influence on my life

    As for my grandfather, James Harding Barry, he served with great distinction in the First War (D.S.O., M.C., R.A.M.C.).

    Excerpted from “Not Blind To Duty” by Gerald Gallagher :

    In August 1914, leaving a note on his desk reading “Off to the War”, Dr. Barry joined the Royal Army Medical Corps, receiving his commission on 11 September.  Assigned to the London Regiment, he spent three years in France as a regimental medical officer.  Being an unassuming person, Dr. Barry spoke little of his experiences in later years, though others of the regiment enjoyed recounting his exploits.  A typical anecdote describes how, during a search for wounded in No Man’s Land at night, he bumped into a German soldier.  Putting his pipe into the man’s back and ordering “Hande Hoch!”, he brought back a valuable prisoner.

    Jim, as my grandfather was known, wrote an autobiography, describing his time in the trenches, which is a great treasure.

    James Harding Barry

    My grandfather was the only one of those three brothers to have children, and his three sons, Uncle Pete, Uncle Mike, and Brian, my father, all served in World War II and all survived. Uncle Pete was in Royal Naval Intelligence at Scapa Flow, Uncle Mike was in the RAF as a paratrooper, and was the first man to land on “A Bridge Too Far” at Arnhem. He was wounded, and taken prisoner by the Germans, but he came home to become a beloved country doctor. The youngest son, Brian, was an officer in the Royal Navy aboard HMS Orion at D-Day.

    Uncle Pete at age 89
    Uncle Mike (L) strolling with Prince Charles (R)
    James Brian Barry

    To the men who served in my generation, Welcome Home. Here is Harry with Tony at The Wall in Washington D.C. on their Honor Flight last year.

    “Honor the warrior, not the war“ – Tony and Harry

    Finally, to celebrate our Veterans, the skies lit up tonight with Northern Lights, even way south, here in Missouri. How lucky we are to be alive to see such a sky! Niece Rachael, from Montana, texted us to make sure we didn’t miss the show. It is only the second time I have ever seen the Northern Lights.

    The Northern lights in Bozeman, Montana
    The Northern Lights in Warren County, Missouri

    Be safe, be well, enjoy this magical world! Be grateful and kind. Slava Ukraini! Peace…

  • 101 Years Ago – August 31

    101 years ago, my father, James Brian Barry (known as Brian, or Dad, to seven of us) was born in Yorkshire. He only lived to celebrate 86 years, but he has not been forgotten. This year, fifteen years after his death, I have had several people express to me what an impact Dad’s teaching (Physics, mostly) had on their lives. He was a gifted, though untrained, teacher and we seven children were very lucky to have such a father. Harry considered Brian one of his best friends, and some people said I married a man very like my father. But really, there was no-one quite like him. Harry and I raised a glass to his memory today, and counted our blessings for having lived a life with him.

    Brian – youngest of three sons (Pete, Brian & Mike)
    A young Brian, with a puppy whose name is forgotten
    Brian, who was at D-Day during World War II on HMS Orion (1944)
    Brian and Trudy, the woman he loved
    Silly Brian
    Brian watches for the green flash
    Brian makes a toast
    Dad
    Anne and Dad in front of Trudy’s famous azalea
    Brain and Harry in Wells, Somerset 2010
    Brian turns 86 August 31, 2010
    Brian never lost his sense of humour

    So, on we go, carrying memories that remain vivid and consolatory, and funny. Such luck!

    Speaking of luck, today, as so often happens, we had both good and bad luck. I had a confirmed Monarch butterfly sighting (good luck). And Eddy had a skunk encounter in a culvert (bad luck!!). I was doing some fence repair, and heard a commotion in the culvert. I did not have a skunk view, but I certainly got a scent!! The house is now very stinky, although Eddy himself has been deskunked.

    Monarch visits the new butterfly bush!
    Paddock fence repair inspired further repairs to the west, near the culvert
    Eddy rolls after skunking
    Empty culvert ,when I returned to finish fixing fence after bathing Eddy

    Jane and Derry are in fine form, helping to inspire Bart toward fitness for next week.

    Jane and Derry lead the way
    Derry looking in show shape herself!

    The horses are always good photo subjects, as are birds and flowers and cats.

    Stone
    Oisin
    Bart
    For those who are not familiar – this is a horse fly – vicious bane of our summer rides
    Early morning finches
    Enthusiastic perennial hibiscus blooming
    VERY dusty back window makes the dust drawing even more interesting
    Tom Morris
    Skittle

    Onward to September!

    Trail in late light

    Stay safe, stay well, stay grateful. Be curious and kind. Laugh often, in spite of everything. Slava Ukraini! Peace…

  • Memorial Day 2025

    Uncommonly cool and pleasant weather has allowed peonies to persist , and they are still blooming today. When we moved north to Pike County, Memorial Day was a day for decorating graves, not just those of service members lost in battle. Peonies were the favored flower, though already fake flowers were taking over. But it was in Pike County that I first heard the flower called a pee-OH-nee, and I think of that pronunciation whenever I look at PEE-ah-nees, as I pronounce them.

    “Old fashioned” peonies

    My maternal grandmother, Gertrude Shea Quetsch, was by all accounts, quite a dynamic woman. I don’t remember her, but I have had her painting of peonies on my wall since I turned 25, when my mother gave it to me.

    But today is really a day to remember lives that were given up for a cause. My family has been incredibly lucky to have escaped that sacrifice. It cannot be said enough that luck should not be underestimated in our journeys through this life.

    In the twentieth century- World War I – three Barry boys served with distinction and decorations, surviving that hellish “war to end all wars”. My grandfather, Jim, wrote about his years in the trenches. His brother, Great Uncle Gerard, lost a leg, but survived. Alas, his luck ran out in Cork, where he was inadvertently shot and killed by “friendly fire” from a sentry in 1921. Great Uncle John, who introduced me to the famous Elsie Morgan, a rare woman huntsman in Ireland in 1971, was seriously wounded during the War, but recovered to ride to hounds and lived to the age of 90.

    My grandfather, James Harding Barry, in the middle

    In World War II, three more Barry boys served the Crown with distinction and all came home alive. My father, Brian, was at D-Day aboard HMS Orion, Uncle Pete was in Naval Intelligence at Scapa Flow, and Uncle Mike was a paratrooper, first man to land at Arnhem, a “bridge too far”, where he was wounded and captured by the Germans. He returned emaciated but alive at the end of the war, and went on to follow in his father’s footsteps as a beloved country doctor.

    My father , James Brian Barry

    On my American, maternal, side, the Steel industry kept grandfather, Leonard Quetsch out of military service. Later, his five sons all served, but did not see action during the Korean War. My mother’s brother, Uncle Jack, went on to become Assistant Secretary of Defense of the United States.

    Harry, of course, served in the U.S. Navy in Viet Nam and survived. He continues to work with service members who were wounded in subsequent wars, and he never discounts his luck. He has been the luckiest thing that ever happened to me!

    Lt. Harry Weber on the Mekong River

    Bless all who grieve losses today, and be grateful every day for the people who have kept us safe, at the cost of their own lives.

    Be well, be safe, be lucky, and be grateful. Slava Ukraini! Peace…