A POIGNANT memorial ceremony took place on Dartmoor at the end of last month, to commemorate the life of a Great War hero. The event took place at Black Rock in the Lyd Valley — one of Captain Nigel Hunter's favourite spots on Dartmoor. Capt Hunter, who lived at Lydford, was honoured twice during the first world war, being awarded the Military Cross and Bar. But he was wounded on March 25, 1918 and died at Biefvillers, in the Pas de Calais. A plaque dedicated to Capt Hunter, which included an excerpt of one of the many poems he wrote during his life, has existed at Black Rock for many years. But the plaque had become worn and a new one, also including the poetry, was dedicated to Capt Hunter on the weekend of the 90th anniversary of his death. The ceremony was led by Lt Col The Rev Tom Hiney MC, the county chaplain to the Royal British Legion. Mr Hiney was assisted by The Rev Ian Sykes of St Petroc's in Lydford. Around 100 people had been invited to the special event, including relations of Capt Hunter, standard bearers from the Bristol, Taunton, Bridgwater and Newton Abbot branches of the Royal British Legion and local civic dignitaries. After a hymn and lesson read by the chairman of Lydford Parish Council, the Last Post and Reveille were sounded, before Alex Hunter read Capt Hunter's poem, 'Widgery Cross' — words from which are inscribed on the new memorial plaque. There was a further lesson read by Pat Martyn, who served on Lydford Parish Council for 20 years — the service was concluded with a blessing by Mr Sykes. One of Capt Hunter's relatives, Rosemary Hearle, who attended the ceremony and minute's silence, said her uncle was still very much a part of the family and she found it 'very touching' that people remembered him with such respect, 90 years on. The following excerpt from Capt Hunter's 'Widgery Cross' can be seen on the new plaque at Black Rock, above the River Lyd, at the foot of Widgery Tor. Are we not like this moorland stream? Springing none knows where from Tinkling, bubbling, flashing a gleam Back at the sun — ere long Gloomy and dull, under a cloud, Then rushing onwards again: Dashing at rocks with anger loud, Roaring and foaming in vain, Wandering thus for many a mile, Twisting and turning away for a while. Then of a sudden'tis over the fall — And the dark still pool is the end of all. Is it? I thought, as I turned away, And I turned again to the silent moor. Is it? I said, and my heart said 'Nay!' As I gazed at the cross on Widgery Tor.