But even with the tartan link established, a crucial problem remained — one that demanded caution rather than certainty. Two pipers from the 16th Battalion were lost at Regina Trench. One was James Cleland Richardson, the youngest piper in the regiment whose act of playing under fire would later earn the Victoria Cross. The other was Piper John Park, killed in the same battle and never recovered. Park’s disappearance meant he had no known grave; his name is recorded on the Vimy Memorial, one of the many missing in France. Richardson became famous in death, while Park slipped toward obscurity. That fact created a genuine fork in the artifact story: if a set of 16th Battalion pipes was recovered at Courcelette after Regina Trench, could those pipes have belonged to Park instead?

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McGuire remained publicly cautious about linking them to Richardson specifically. As he noted at the time, “the odd thing about this story is that the other piper killed the same day—Corporal John Park—was never found and has no known grave.” He also pointed out that Park, like Richardson, had been born in Scotland and that his next of kin remained there, making his story easier to lose in Canadian memory.

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McGuire further clarified a common source of confusion: during the war, the numbered 16th Battalion was at times referred to administratively as part of the “Manitoba Regiment” while passing through Winnipeg, a reflection of Canada’s early decision to organize overseas units by number rather than by traditional regimental identity. This administrative complexity meant that Park’s and Richardson’s pipes would have been indistinguishable on the basis of battalion issue alone.

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At that point, McGuire summarized the situation bluntly: there was still a “50–50” chance the pipes had belonged to either piper. Both men had gone forward piping; both were listed as wounded or missing on 8–9 October 1916; both were later declared missing, presumed killed.

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We know Piper Park was never found and has no known grave, but Piper Richardson does. It is not entirely clear when Richardson was found. It seems likely that he lay where he fell, at least for a time, and — inevitably, amid the chaos of battle — key details seem to have been lost. When, exactly, was he first buried, and by whom?

It is, of course, possible that his remains lay for months in a part of No Man’s Land that was inaccessible during the fighting, only to be reached later when the ground changed hands or the front shifted.

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Continued research led to Richardson’s original burial and subsequent exhumation. In correspondence with the Commonwealth War Graves Commission (CWGC) in 2003, the team was told that Richardson had been exhumed from plot 57c.M.16.A.4.6 on June 15, 1920. McGuire was able to establish that Richardson’s grave had been identified by the cross placed there by the Graves Registration Unit at the time of the initial burial, though the CWGC held no record of who was actually present when he was first laid to rest. An exhumation report could not be obtained. Richardson’s remains, along with those of other fallen men, were later reinterred at Adanac Cemetery, not far from the original plot.

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One possibility, though unproven, is that the Major Bate may have been present at Richardson’s initial burial.  We know that Bate left the card with the pipes in the display describing when and where they came from. Yet Bate himself left no written statement that directly links him, in his own words, either to Richardson’s burial or to the moment the pipes were discovered. 

 

As an educated chaplain, Bate might plausibly have kept journals or letters describing the circumstances of recovery. When exactly were the pipes taken off the field? Were they collected by himself, or passed to him by others? Did he recover them in connection with the fallen piper? The answers could have strengthened the chain of evidence dramatically. Yet, despite efforts over the years, no journal or personal record by Bate referencing the pipes has surfaced.