R.H. Thomson is like most of us. When he had a chance to ask questions about the history of a distant war and how it affected his family's history, he was too young, too disinterested to do so. Now, having turned past half a century in age, he is haunted by the indifference of his youth. He is luckier than most of us. He had more than 700 letters to draw on (written by five maternal great-uncles) to recapture just a little of what that World War One was all about, what it was like to fight in it, what sacrifices individuals made and what stupidities were carried out. While he had to look beyond those letter—read between the lines, and go to the actual places where these men fought and some died—to create his one-man play, The Lost Boys, those letters were a great starting point. There were also photographs to draw on, one of which shows a family snap shot of seven of the eight Stratford sons, five of whom went to fight in the 'War to end all Wars'. Two died in battle, two died years later from the frightful results of poison gas. The fifth came home whole in body, but obviously not in spirit. He turned to a solitary life and was dismissed by the young Thomson as an eccentric. Yet, here was a great-uncle, who could have been the key to history, to understanding.

The work that the author/actor created is not perfect, but it is deeply moving, and intense and poetic in many places. Thomson's performance is magnificent. His voice carries well and demands ones attention. His movements are graceful, precise, . . . .

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