Heart of Conflict in print….

We were delighted to be able to write a piece about Heart of Conflict, our work in Cornwall on World War One, for SHCG News, the quarterly newsletter of the Social History Curators Group. It was an easy piece to put together  – it’s been such a great project.  The newsletter will eventually be put online: […]

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Making contact with Estaires

Estaires, France, has featured frequently in Heart of Conflict,  our project on Cornwall in World War One. Many men from Dolcoath Mine St John’s Ambulance Brigade were stationed there, as part of the 25th Field Ambulance (Royal Army Medical Corps). Some of the descendants of these men have letters, photographs and artefacts from this time […]

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We stand united – a poem by Neve Heartwood

We stand united with shovels in hand, not rifles. Brave men, we face a different enemy; a private war, fought on home soil. We wish for freedom for all mankind, why is that so detested? Is it wrong to respect life? To take it, steal it from a parent, wife or child… And so we […]

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YOUNG AUSTRALIAN DESIGNER’S VISION OF UNITY WINS HEADWRAP CONTEST

A young Australian designer who travelled to London on an internship to pursue her passion for fashion and textiles has won our competition for a new headwrap design – creating a powerful pattern of interlocking hands. Crizanne Bracken, who studied Applied Fashion Design and Textiles in Australia, won an internship at the luxury fashion house Karl […]

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Taking down Heart of Conflict

A poignant few hours on Saturday (1 July 2017) at the Royal Cornwall Museum, Truro, as we took down our exhibition Heart of Conflict – looking at Cornwall during World War One. It’s amazing how quickly all can be dismantled – disconcertingly quickly in comparison with the many hours, days and months the exhibition took to […]

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Smiling in the War – a poem by Molly Heartwood

Smiling in the War   London, East end, 1916. I became a Red Cross nurse two weeks after the war started. It was hard work, long hours and emotionally draining. The hospitals were full of wounded soldiers. Night shifts were the worst; all of the men with shell shock cried out in their dreams, speaking […]

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