|Forename||Geoffrey Henry Cadwallader|
|Regiment||The Suffolk Regiment|
|Death||Killed in action|
|Place of Death||Lesbouefs, France|
|Date of Death||01/11/1916|
|Year of Entry||1909|
|School Notes||Junior Scholar; Gold Medal; Historical Essay; Greek Iambics Prize|
|Comments||A coy 4 Bn. Obituary in Radleian of 16/12/1916
Radleian Collection has two copies of "Geoffrey Henry Cadwallader Adams: a memorial" by Selwyn, 1917
War Memorial Fund Ctte minutes 9.12.1920: 'Mr A Adams spoke in favour of the larger expenditure [on a visible War Memorial]. Other parents who had subscribed felt as he did. He wanted a Memorial which the boys would in their hearts connect with the idea of self-sacrifice and resort to for inspiration in difficulties, and he appealed to all members to endeavour to make the memorial welcome to and venerated by the school.'
|Commonwealth War Graves Commission Link||http://www.cwgc.org/search/casualty_details.aspx?casualty=772672|
|Sport||Cricket xi (captain); FV; RV|
|Battle||Battle of the Somme|
|Additional Notes||Added to Imperial War Museum 'Faces of World War One' project and Radley College War Memorial Flickr website on 11 March 2013 http://www.flickr.com/photos/radley_college_war_memorial/
Memoir by EG Selwyn, Warden of Radley. Includes poetry by Geoffrey Adams
15.12.1917 The Radleian. The Warden's address in Chapel on All Saints' Day, 1917.
THE Day was kept very quietly, in accordance with the times. The following is the order of the Memorial Service, which was held in Chapel at 1 2 o'clock : -
Hymn 204. "Who are these like stars appearing." Lord's Prayer and Suffrages. Psalms 90 , 93. Lesson, 1 Cor. i. 20. Canticle.Deus miseratur. Apostles' Creed. After the 3rd Collect the List of all Radleians killed in the war was read. Anthem."For all the saints."
Short Address and Prayers. Hymn 124."Jesus lives." Blessing.
The Warden gave the following address:-
St. Mark xii, 27. "He is not the God of the dead, but the God of the living."
We are assembled together here this morning to do honour to our beloved and glorious dead; to remember them before God with thanksgiving and prayer; and in the recollection of their shining example of life and death to consecrate afresh the visions and purposes which they have bequeathed to us for our College and our country. We could not address ourselves to a more spiritual task. This Chapel, where they as boys so often worshipped and lifted their hearts to heaven; this Day, which to every Radleian speaks so clear a message of loyalty and affection, of gladness and laughter; conspire with the Gospel of eternal life to unite us with them and them with us. They are our treasure that is laid up in heaven. where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and thieves do not break through and steal. Even at this moment they are not far from us. They come amongst us radiant as those only are who have achieved life's purpose; they "Speak to us of faith unfalteringly held, of resolve dauntlessly pursued, of honour kept unsullied to the end; victory and right are on their foreheads, and their eyes shine with the truth. How can it be but that in the presence of so noble a company we find our ambitions solved, our waywardness checked, our hearts exalted? If we rise bodily and call them blessed, it is because they in their death have drawn us nearer to God. And what manner of men were they whom we commemorate? Of what fibre were they made? In one of his greatest passages Virgil describes how Aeneas saw
the illustrious dead, Who fighting for their country bled; Priests, who while earthly life remained Preserved that life unsoiled, unstained; Blest bonds, tfrnsparent souls and clear, Whose song was worthy Phoebus' ear. Inventors, who by arts refined. The common life of human kind, With all who grateful memory won By services to others done.
And our own brothers who have fallen in this far vaster war combined a like diversity of calling with a like readiness of sacrifice. We read of one who by reason of age might have regarded himself as excused from the rigours of a campaign, but who chose rather the path of a higher duty, left all the sweetness of an English home, and laid down his life in Mesopotamia; of another, a soldier of the Old Army, who commanded his battery at Loos, Hulluch, and the Hohenzollern, and was known as one of the most skilled officers in the Royal Regiment of Artillery, at once trusted by his superiors and idolized by his men; of yet another, a doctor of assured promise, of whom his colonel wrote that " his name would be a lasting and inspiring memory to the officers and men of his battalion." And though in this company of the brave none is afore nor after other, there are perhaps two of whom we think especially, only because we knew them so well - both of them quite lately Senior Prefects, the one succeeding the other; both scholars and lovers of the things of the spirit, both strong in body and true of eye, the one captain of cricket, [rackets and fives], the other of football; both marked out, not less by the quality of their minds than by the integrity of their characters, as leaders of men. Anyone who knew Geoffrey Adams or Eric Blyth knew how they hated war; its wastefulness, its cruelty, its repudiation of all that they knew as right was abhorrent to them; yet without a murmur they went; and they died.
So let us leave them, safe and at peace now in God's keeping. Over the place where they fell moves still the tramp of armed men; still circle over their grave the squadrons of the sky; the ground where they were laid shakes with the thunder of a thousand guns. But they are in peace; their souls live evermore; nay more, their dear features, the expression of their countenance, so familiar and beloved, the sweet music of their speech, the carriage and demeanour of their beautiful bodies - all that we most loved in the individuality of each -these surely have some immortal counterpart in the life beyond the grave. These were not for a day. They are gone from us, yes; and when the guns are silent and the men come home, these will not be amongst them. But they are gone to give yet purer joys, yet more unhindered delight to Him who fashioned them; they are called to freer, fuller activity in the gracious presence of their Master; and they wait to welcome us, when the day dawns and the shadows flee away.
Let us therefore
with uncovered head
Salute the sacred dead,
Who went, and who return not.-Say not so I 'Tis not the grapes of Canaan that repay,
But the high faith that failed not by the way; Virtue treads paths that end not in the grave; No bar of endless night exiles the brave;
And to the saner mind
We rather seem the dead that stayed behind. Blow, trumpets, all your exultations blow!
For never shall their aureoled presence lack:
I see them muster in a gleaming row,
With ever-youthful brows that nobler show;
We find in our dull road their shining track;
In every nobler mood
We feel the orient of their spirit glow,
Part of our life's unalterable good,
Of all our saintlier aspiration;
They come transfigured back,
Secure from change in their high-hearted ways,
Beautiful evermore, and with the rays
Of morn on their white Shields of Expectation!
27.7.1918. The Radleian. War Memorial Fund. Miss E. K. Farmar In memoriam G. Adams,
|Burial or Cemetery||THIEPVAL MEMORIAL, Somme, France. Panel ref Pier and Face 1 C and 2 A|
|Place of Birth||Old Shoreham, Sussex|
|Post School||won Exhibition Hertford College, Oxford; Demyship Magdalen College, Oxford|
|Shields in Hall||SL18|