When I headed to the cenotaph I was neater than when I took this selfie I promise. But after eating my porridge, ironing (apparently there IS one in the house), getting two units sorted with their new neckerchiefs, finding a replacement for our flag escort who had come down sick, dealing with a Guide who took ill at the end of the war memorial outdoor service, the youth remembrance service at church and fought through stormy weather to get to our annual leaders lunch at Mimi’s Bakehouse. I had gotten to my usual state of bedraggledness.
To me Remembrance Sunday is not about calling people heroes. It is remembering the cost of war and why we need peace not violence. When I think of world war 1 and the heinous decisions, the propaganda, the advantage governments took of vulnerable impoverished men…it makes me feel ill. When I think of my great great grandfather who drowned along with many others coming home from war and how their families were dismissed because their deaths weren’t counted as being killed in action, it makes me angry. And when I see and hear prejudice and racism I fear we have not learned from our history.
So on Sunday, I stood to remember.
And hope for a more peaceful future for our world.
At 11 am today I will remember again.
And say never again, lest we forget, never again.