Son of Sidney John Stone, boot shoe manufacturer, and Edith Blanche Olivia Stone, of 11 Glebe Road, St. George. Older brother of Elsie, Raymond Edgar, Kathleen Ivy, John Eric, and Lewis George.

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Stone was born on 06/06/1894, and attended the School from 1908-1909. He served as a Private in the Army, with the North Somerset Yeomanry. Stone sadly lost his life on 11/02/1915, as a result of the War.

 

Stone is remembered on Ypres (Menin Gate) Memorial, Belgium, Panel 5.

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The Chronicle Reports His Loss (April 1915)

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Of an earlier generation was C. Stone of the North Somerset Yeomanry, who fell at the front, and who had but recently been married. To his family also the School offers its sympathy. In the loss of both [men] there is a sense of pride which carries its own comfort.

Mr. Clifford Stone (O.B.) killed in Action:

A letter was received by Mrs Clifford Stone of St. George, on February 16th, announcing the death of her husband, a trooper in the North Somerset Yeomanry, and son of Mr. Sydney Stone, manager at Messrs. Woodington's Boot Factory, St. George. Mrs. Clifford Stone, prior to her marriage, was Miss Chrystabel Webb, a well-known local vocalist. Deceased, who was much esteemed in the East end of the city, was an old Bristol Grammar School Boy, and a popular member of St. George Liberal Club. In his letter expressing the deepest sympathy of all the officers and men of 'C' Squadron, Captin Brooking says: 'When you realise that your husband was killed while doing his duty for his King and Country in a most noble way, it may help to make you proud of having had such a husband. More men of his sort are wanted, and wanted badly.' The late Trooper Stone was on active service at Ypres and at other fighting zones in Belgium, and his loss has been recieved with general regret in St. George.

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S C Stone was the first known BGS casualty of the Great War, and printed immediately before the above obituary is a poem written by ‘N’, the Headmaster, Cyril Norwood

 

BE NOT DISMAYED

The winter and the dark last long:

Grief grows, and dawn delays:

Make we our swordarm doubly strong,

And life on high our gaze:

And stanch we deep the hearts that weep,

And touch our lips with praise.

 

Praise we each man who unafraid

Hath bartered ease for pain,

Of the frozen trench his bed hath made,

And death for comrade ta’en:

Was he not stirred to scorn the herd,

Nor live, as they, in vain?

 

Praise we the seaman who abides

The vigil and the price:

Though his body sway with the swaying tides,

Where the mine-rent warship lies,

Yet his soul shall stand by God’s right hand,

Who loveth sacrifice.

 

The winter and the dark shall cease:

Nor tears nor blood nor fire

Nor famine but shall yield increase,

And death shall lead us higher,

Till a glory surge from the sky’s far verge,

And God again draw nigher.

 

N

[Cyril Norwood, Headmaster 1906-1916] Chronicle April 1915 pages 344-345