It’s that time of year again when we look back and remember those who gave so much to enable us to be where we are today. When we were children, Dad always made us watch the Memorial service. On a black and white TV, I recollect grainy images of old men and women walking solemnly past the Cenotaph, and Dad telling us that we had to be very grateful because they had been through so much to give us freedom… and I didn’t really know what he meant by freedom, just knew it must be important.
Dad was in the Navy at the end of WW2 and spoke, with great warmth, of the comradeship and spirit that was so much a part of that time. My brother was in the RAF, posted abroad and even briefly in Ireland and he also refers to the sense of working closely together to a common purpose.
Another memory comes back, of a man called Alan, who ran the sweetshop in Southport near our Nana’s. His face was dreadfully scarred from burns he had suffered in a fighter plane crash in WW2. We kids were scared of him because he looked so different – and yet he was such a kind man and it must have been very difficult for him to be always having people shy away when they saw his injuries.
The famous verse that’s often read at memorial services and seen on gravestones throughout the world, was written by a Lancastrian called Laurence Binyon. It’s from a poem entitled ‘For The Fallen’
“They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning,
We will remember them.”
The past has a lot to share with us. In these days of fast food, instant gratification and the quick fix – it is worth remembering that some things are worth fighting for, take longer to achieve, but are so worth it all in the long run…
From Jerry Evans:
I remember those grainy images of proud, emotional men, sombre as they paid their respects. And everything stood still at 11am.
My Grandfather lost his life at Monte Casino, my Dad and I (when I was 13) found his grave amongst the thousands that are meticulously maintained.
I wear my poppy not with pride, but with respect. And with hope. Hope that future generations never have to be asked to sacrifice so much, or experience such horror.
We must continue to remind generations of the past, the hell on Earth that was Flanders, Ypres, all wars. There are no winners. And we must continue to say thank you, to the men and women who defended, and continue to defend our way of life.
Thank you Zoe, for your timely reminder.
From Zoë Dawes:
Thank YOU Jerry for sharing your moving thoughts here. As you say, there are no winners and we need to remember that even more today… My Great Grandfather, after whom my son is named, fought in the Boer War, was in the Siege of Ladysmith, was also in WW1 & WW11 in the Medical Corps. His photos from Africa during the Boer War are incredibly moving. My son has been studying WW1 at school and took in a Christmas card sent from King George & Queen Mary to the troops in 1914. Respect & Hope – timely sentiments…