Private Robert Theophilus Downer – War hero rescued after 107 years

How do you honour the sacrifice of a great grandfather you never knew existed, never realised that he gave his life for you and others to be free? You speak his name! You heal from a wound so deep that you were unaware of its existence. You seek the truth, so healing may begin.

Nearly a decade ago, I heard the name Robert Theophilus Downer. My father Noel Downer, his grandson had only heard whispers of him. In 2015 my dad was given his grandfather’s medal for fighting in World War I. The medal was securely stored under a bed by a relative of his grandfather over a century ago and was forgotten. When the most recent inhabitants of the house decided to do away with the bedframe, the medal was found securely stored in a metal box hidden in the floor. It was then given to my dad by a relative.

Based on our family’s oral history, my very gregarious great-grandfather just upped and disappeared. He was a recruiter for the British army and one day when most of the men he recruited were found to be “unsuitable” for war, he was snatched by British army recruiters and forced to set sail, never to be seen or heard from again. The anguish of abandonment for my seven year old grandfather, Gideon, was incomprehensible. For him, sorrow lingered in some unreachable place and left a wound of agony that unbeknownst to my siblings and I, would fester for generations to come.

When my father brought home a medal almost a decade ago with my great grandfather’s name Theophilus Downer engraved on it and the inscription, “He died for freedom and honour,” my seven siblings and I were stunned. My dad took the opportunity during our annual Christmas family dinner that year, when he was made aware of his grandfather’s bravery, to ceremoniously display the medal and share what he knew about his Grandpa Theophilus with the entire family, including his grandchildren, the next generation of Downers.

Immediately upon learning this information, I went to task to find out what happened to my great-grandfather. Multiple unanswered calls to the British Embassy in Washington, DC, and the British Consulate in New York, numerous communication to various British war entities and other cultural organisations finally resulted in a response in February 2020, from the Black Cultural Archives (BCA) in the United Kingdom. They recommended that I contact the UK’s National Archives, and the Imperial War Museum (IWM). I communicated with the IWM and continued searching online where I found a treasure trove of information about the British West Indian Regimen.

About our great-grandfather, I found the following,: “Service British army; private 9904 British West Indies Regiment 7th battalion; May 1917 - 19th September 1917; Death-No.22 General Hospital France September 1917; Burial-Etaples Military Cemetery CWGC Cemetery/Memorial Pas de Calais France XXVI. B. 5A.”

MAKE A PILGRIMAGE

Armed with this information, it was imperative for my family to make a pilgrimage to visit our beloved grandfather. The COVID-19 pandemic delayed, but did not deter my family’s planned visit to our war hero.

Etaples Military Cemetery is the largest Commonwealth War Graves Commission cemetery in France and contains the remains of 10,771 soldiers including those from the Caribbean who represented the United Kingdom.

The Imperial War Museum shares that while our young men from the West Indies were keen to prove their worth on the battlefield, their enthusiasm was not shared by Britain’s War Office, which did not want the West Indian troupe of black men in its army. On the personal intervention of King George V, the War Office conceded. As a result, the British West Indies Regiment (BWIR) was established by Royal Warrant on November 3,1915. The regiment consisted of a total of 15,600 men from 11 battalions and served in Europe, the Middle East and Africa.

About two -thirds of the men came from Jamaica. The rest were from The Bahamas, Barbados, British Guyana, British Honduras, Grenada, the Leeward Islands. St. Lucia, St. Vincent and the Grenadines, as well as Trinidad and Tobago. Of importance is that all the men who served in the BWIR served as volunteers because enlistment was never introduced in the West Indies. Furthermore, military regulations prevented West Indian soldiers from holding rank higher than warrant officer. Besides the BWIR, the West Indies contributed men through the West India Regiment (WIR), which had served Britain since 1795.

The men who comprised the BWIR did not fight as equals alongside white soldiers. Instead, the troops served first as supply, rather than fighting troops. They were engaged in very arduous work that was carried out almost continuously under shell fire. Their support roles included digging trenches, building roads and gun emplacements, acting as stretcher-bearers, loading ships and trains, and working in ammunition dumps. This work was often carried out within range of German artillery and snipers.

The casualties were high. Their contribution to the war effort, including my great-grandfather’s is priceless. By the end of the First World War, 185 men from the BWIR had been killed in action and 1,071 had died of sickness. Despite dreadful discrimination, the men’s bravery was well established and as reported, Major General Sir Edward Chaytor, commanding officer of the BWIR in speaking of the bravery of the 2nd Battalion wrote that, “Outside my own division that are no troops I would sooner have with me than the BWIs who have won the highest opinions of all who have been with them during our operations here.” Several BWIR soldiers were awarded gallantry medals. Among those who were awarded was the then future Jamaican Prime Minister, Norman Manley. He received the Military Medal.

Our trip to visit my great grandfather’s burial site began on July 5. We faced some hiccups, we were stuck in Lillie, over two hours away by car, from our destination. With hearts full of praise for answered prayers, our travel angel Michel Berthelin who was on his way to Le Touquet, and allowed us to accompany him.

VISITED HEADSTONE

My sister Gaynor and her daughter Jhanell Hart, and I, visited our great grandfather’s headstone on July 7 this year. On entering the gate of the cemetery, using WhatsApp, Jhanell was able to have our dad join us as he sat on the verandah in Jamaica. To behold the number of headstones so neatly laid out in rows upon rows and to realise that each represented a person was altogether overwhelming. My feet were frozen to the spot when I realised that my great-grandfather was also here. Buoyed on by the youth and exuberance of my niece Jhanell, my feet took flight and soon we were running towards the headstones. We were all so excited to finally be here, going off-kilter in the general directions of the cemetery, the map instructions completely ignored. With his customary sage fatherly advice, daddy suggested that we stop and began our search with deliberation. We obeyed. About five-minutes later Jhanell shouted, “Here he is.” We had found the headstone of our beloved great-grandfather Theophilus.

Gaynor and I walked sombrely to the site and on reaching it, a feeling of despondency enveloped me as tears spiked my eyes. That feeling was fleeting though, because a piece of me that I never recognised before, seemed now very familiar to me. A feeling of, “Thank you for not forgetting me. I knew that you would come. I am no longer alone. Welcome beloved.”

Having our dad present for this most hallowed experience was more than a blessing. It was also heart-wrenching. Sadness laced his words as he wondered aloud about how his dad, Gideon would have felt to know that his dear father did not abandon him and as equally important, that he was found. We planted flowers for our grandfather, and we prayed. I want to tell my great-grandfather that his sacrifice was not in vain. I want to tell him that he is a great tree, rooted by the rivers of water, and that with his deep roots, he has borne much fruit. Let him know that this next generation of Downers are well, because of him.

We visited him again before leaving and were able to make peace with what has happened and admit that amidst the joy, pain remains a constant companion. For, why is there no acknowledgement of the sacrifices people like my great-grandfather endured and ultimately died for? How many of us do not know about the atrocities our ancestors endured and are therefore not able to mourn or honour them? We do not need permission to honour our heroes. Together, let’s just do it!

The world honours their fallen heroes with parades and other befitting forms of recognition. The blood of our Caribbean War Heroes soaks the foreign soil on which some of these celebrations occur. Our war heroes cry out not to be forgotten. I have heard the cry. As one grieving woman shared with me at Etaples Military Cemetery during my visit, “These medals are nothing but death pennies. These people died for what?” Her grandfather is buried there too.

I am appealing fellow Jamaicans and indeed the entire Caribbean region to set aside a day to acknowledge the sacrifice and honour these soldiers. Those who died on foreign soil and those who returned to us forever changed. Let us call their names and never again forget the sacrifices they have made and likewise that of their families.

So now, I reflect in silent gratitude for all that has happened; the sadness, the joy, and mostly the unexpected divine surprises that continually grace our lives. Great-grandfather Robert Theophilus Downer died five months after going to war. His life and legacy will be honoured, remembered, and celebrated as he continues to rest in eternal peace.

Dr. Goulda Downer is a great-granddaughter of Private Robert Theophilus Downer. She is associate professor in College of Medicine at Howard University, in Washington D.C. Send feedback to gdowner@howard.edu