Thursday 11 November 2010

Remembrance Day

A rainy day in London, as though the heavens themselves cry for those who made the ultimate sacrifice for their country and country folk. 

People have been sporting poppies on their clothing for the last couple of weeks, and many will have made a donation to the charity supporting not only families of those who never came back, but also helping those soldiers who did. They too face a daily struggle to rebuild their lives, recovering from both the physical and mental scars of the horrors of war.

We in the UK feel safe in the knowledge that the war is a million miles away. Out of sight, out of mind. It's almost as if there is no war. For some, however, even those who have returned, war is a constant figure in their lives. A constant fear too.

I wrote about just one of the many a while back. An ex-soldier named Sim.

Just as they have a duty in service, we have a duty to them too.

A duty to remember, a duty to help, a duty to thank.

Wear your poppies not only with pride, but also with gratitude and at least a moment's thought.

6 comments:

Unknown said...

Roger that. Enough said.

Anonymous said...

strangely i've not yet found somewhere to buy one, despite going into the local sainsburys most days.

your piece on Sim was one of the most touching yet distressing you've written.

oneunder said...

Lest we forget..

Anonymous said...

Amazing post, agree wholeheartedly.
They gave so much, we should never forget.
Minty

JustSomeKid said...

hustle and bustle,
work play and shop,
a car backfires,
a man is shot.
my gun grows hot,
my tanks growls loud,
my feet grow heavy,
and i grow tired.
i splinter of pain,
a cry of man down,
a bright white light,
one fimal parade.
eleven, a month.
eleven, a day.
eleven, o'clock.
the whoole land stops.
a man steps forward,
a wreath blood red,
each flower for a man
thats far too long dead.
bullet to the chest,
shrapnel to the head,
man, woman and child,
now laid to rest.
that war may be over,
but the fighting won't stop,
untill the whole world remembers,
more young men will be shot,
but on the world marches,
with lest we forget,
but for many its too late,
too late not to forget.

Lizzie said...

Wore it with an extra measure of pride this year. Of course, that also brings with it the knowledge that those names on the memorial will soon mean something to me and may even be people that I know one day. There was sadness mixed with the pride.