Ex-RAF navigator and Gulf War veteran John Nichol's new book inspired by Westminster Abbey's Tomb of the Unknown Warrior

George Ellison, born in York, but living with his family in Leeds, thought that he was one of the lucky ones. He’d come – relatively unscathed – though the bloodbaths of both Ypres and the Somme. George was a regular, before becoming a miner, and then had re-joined the Army at the outbreak of hostilities, serving with the 5th Royal Irish Lancers.

The final Armistice was agreed and signed at 5am on the morning of November 11, but it wasn’t officially announced to troops until seven hours later. Ellison, who was 40 years old, was shot by a German sniper, and killed instantly, at 9.30am, just an hour and a half before the cease-fire. Ironically, the location – the battlefield of Mons – was exactly the same spot as when he’d first seen action in 1914. Private Ellison had been through bloodbaths like Loos, Cambrai and Bassee.

He left behind his wife, Hannah, and a five years-old son, James. His brother Frederick had been killed in battle in 1917. His family were only told of his death a month later, just a few days before Christmas. Their husband, their father, their son, wasn’t coming home. But at least they knew where he was laid to rest. George is buried at the St. Symphoriem Military Cemetery, south-eat of Mons – right opposite Private John Parr, believed to be the very first British soldier to be killed in what became known as “The War to End all Wars”.

The horror is that so many others do not have that dignity. Now, in a revealing new book, author John Nichol tells the story of how the fallen were commemorated and of the decision to create a focal point for all those who died – the Tomb of the Unknown Warrior, just inside the main doors of Westminster Abbey.

This is John’s 19th book. He started writing following a return to civilian life after serving as a navigator in the RAF, and was shot down during the Gulf War. Along with his pilot, John Peters, he was captured and tortured by the Iraqis, and only released at the end of that war.

Since then, he’s concentrated on writing, with novels and also a slew of best-sellers covering everything from histories of iconic British planes (such as the Spitfire and the Lancaster) to meticulously-researched accounts of events like the Battle of Arnhem and those involved in conflict, like the medical teams on the front lines. John has fond memories of being based at RAF Finningley, near Doncaster, and near Ripon, but The Unknown Warrior took him hundreds of miles away from Yorkshire and the UK, and back to the French and Belgian battlefields of over a century ago.

“Research”, he says, “is all part of the pleasure for me, the chase to dig out the facts, and it takes a lot of time. But this, for me, isn’t manual labour, every book is a fascination for me, and gives me interesting truths about human nature. I’m very lucky in what I do”. The inspiration for the new book came from his attendance at several Abbey services, and observing the deep respect in which the Tomb – just a simple bronze slab – is held.

“I discovered that the idea was first conceived by a chaplain called David Railton, serving with the Army on the Western Front, and that he’d found a marker, a rough wooden cross, on which was written ‘An unknown British soldier of the Black Watch’. It all developed from there. Railton wanted to ease the pain of those who were left behind, and to give them a symbol of the individual sacrifice, while celebrating (is ‘celebrating’ the right word?) the unbelievably numberless many.”

The Padre’s idea was picked up, and given official agreement. When the Warrior was finally brought back to Britian, he had been selected from four (and it could have been five) bodies from the battlefield. There was absolutely no clue as to their identities. They were laid out in a chapel in the little town of Saint-Pol-sur-Ternoise, which is fifty miles south of Calais. They were, says John, “anonymous bags of bones”. St. Pol is, interestingly, twinned with Hebden Bridge. The date was November 8, 1920. The bodies came from four of the main conflict zones – Aisne, Somme, Arras and Ypres. “Everything was done with the utmost secrecy”, says John, “and the selection of the final body, the Warrior, was left until the final moment.”

The Abbey service came on November 11, and, after the official ceremonies, led by George V, were over, hundreds of thousands of ordinary people of all ages, filed past. It was a seven-mile-long queue. They were still turning up daily at the Abbey to leave flowers and tributes a year later – and many still do, even today. There were those, of course, who were dissenting voices, “There was a very determined Yorkshire lady called Sarah Smith, “says John, “who felt, as many did, that their sons should be returned home. All of them. Whatever rank. And not laid in War Grave cemeteries. She ran a much-publicised campaign.

But she was over-ruled. “ He says: “I found a line from a Yorkshire Post writer of the day who puts it all so simply and beautifully. He wrote: ‘No one could have foretold how surely the emblem to the glorious dead and the symbolic grave would capture the imagination of the people’. He had it exactly right. And, you know, as we remember every year on November 11, his words still have a resonance which sweeps across the decades…”

The Unknown Warrior, a Personal Journey of Discovery and Remembrance, by John Nichol, Simon and Schuster, out now. John will be talking about his book at the City Varieties in Leeds on Monday, October 7. Information on: 0113 243 0808 or at leedsheritagetheatres.com