The Psychic Grandma

By Louise Cusack

One night in September 1917, my maternal Grandma, Louisa, startled her family when she sat up in bed, crying and wailing, calling George, George.

George was her eldest son, serving with the D.L.I fighting in France.

Her hands went to her neck and she said he’d been wounded, it’s his neck.

Her family tried to calm her, saying she’d had a bad horrible dream, but she wouldn’t be comforted.

Next morning Louisa was still crying and told her family that George was dead.

Again her family tried to comfort her but she would not be consoled.

Not long after, the dreaded telegram arrived, telling her George was dead, but Louisa already knew that.  She then received a letter from his C.O telling her about George’s death and that he had died from wounds to his neck.

Sadly the day George had died there was a lull in the battle and there was no fighting that day.  We can only assume George raised his head above the trench and a sniper took aim. He was 24 years old.

My mother, George’s sister was 17 years old when this happened. She lived to be 86 years old but never forgot that night.

As a mother of two sons myself I thank God they were never called upon to fight a war, and I still have them. I’ve told them about George and how he died, the uncle I never got to meet.