My Great Uncle fought in this battle as the British attempted to provide reinforcements to the French. During his time there his youngest son was born and his wife named him Frederick Verdun. This was seen as a good luck charm to ensure his father's safe return.
My Great Uncle had witnessed horrors beyond comprehension. On his return his son was formally christened Frederick Verdun in commemoration of his father's return. However, by the time of the christening, my uncle's unit had received orders to return to the Western Front. His mental state was so very fragile that, after the christening, he chopped off the index finger of his right hand to avoid returning to the hell he'd experienced at Verdun. He was dishonourably discharged unable to claim any medals.
His story remains in our family folklore and the morality of his actions the subject of many after dinner debates, often heated argument.
Many historians claim that there is little evidence that British troops were involved in Verdun but my family story would seem to revoke this.
Edited by Lawryleslie, 03 October 2016 - 08:28 AM.