Writes Reverend James Fields, School Chaplain
Even in the trenches, it seems, Lionel Mackinder was an entertainer. The story goes that he was fatally wounded by a sniper even as he was singing to the men in his charge.
He had risen quickly from the rank of Lance-corporal to Captain. His career on stage, as an actor, comedian and dancer suggest he brought a sense of polish and pizazz to things, nothing done by halves.
He was born Edward Harris and was a pupil of Merchant Taylors’ from 1879 to 1882. Clearly he was too old to enlist so, actor to his core, he donned a wig and pretended to be 15 years his younger. He got away with it.
There is a rather powerful coincidence that we held our Remembrance service in the Great Hall which is presently set up for stage production of Guys and Dolls. It couldn’t be more apposite. Lighting gantries, stage set and sound all ready for opening night. The sense of anticipation is palpable.
The act of Remembrance brings things home. Honouring the many, Mackinder’s story reminds us of the one. The sense of loss and sorrow is briefly palpable. As in good theatre our imaginations and souls travel to a distant place… or not so distant.
Remembrance takes us to the past but it also builds a bridgehead to the future. Its solemnity and decorum provide ballast to our lives in these present days of uncertainty where the guns, far from falling silent, pierce the air we all breath.
In these present days we too can hear the call, God willing, not to the level of sacrifice of those whose names we have commemorated. But a call to “doff the motley”, to ditch the froth and nonsense, cynicism and judgement, donning instead a determination to seek peace, dignity and kindness in all our thoughts and actions.
Thank you Mac! Across the sands of time we hear you singing, if we will but listen.
Lionel Mackinder, born Edward Stephen Harris OMT 1879 -1882
Killed in action Sunday evening, January 10th 1915. 46 years old
