Armistice Sunday

I was brought to tears this evening when BBC Spotlight surprised a 100 year old veteran of D Day with a presentation of the French Medal of Honour....

As per usual as a sign of respect, we will be closing down Gardeners Corner for 2 minutes on the 11th at 11 hundred hours.

We will never forget....

 

Thank you Zigs I will look for that on the news tonight.

I'm sure I speak for all GC users when I say thank you for showing this mark of respect.

 

Respect to your Father in Law @JWK

 

Sorry to hear of his passing, but I'm so pleased he was able to receive it

Unlike this news story: Veteran's Légion d'Honneur sent to Liverpool Costco in error

 

My father was on the SS Oronties, the first merchant vessel to be dive bombed by the Luftwaffe. It happened at the Dunkirk evacuation.

 

My father flew in Lancasters. He flew missions dropping incindiaries on Hamburg in the response to the horror of Coventry. Said the heat could be felt as it intensified and rose to the planes. He rarely talked about the terrible things men did in order to give us our freedom.

First time road works has been a bonus. Traffic was at a standstill for several minutes around 11.

 

Ladies and Gentlemen,

Gardeners Corner is now going offline as we observe the 2 minutes silence.

 

My generation are very fortunate as there has been relative peace since I was born in the 50s. Remembering what my Grandfathers, Father and Uncles endured during their lives makes me feel pretty humble. It certainly puts the political wrangling over Brexit, Trump etc into prospective.

 

There are memorial ceremonies in all French towns and villages on the 11th. We went to ours for the first time this year. It was extremely moving, even though we don't have any connection with the people being commemorated and, like silu, haven't had to live through the horror of war.
The children from the local school were heavily involved, with one English pupil and one French one doing readings. As with the 'citizenship' lessons in school, they do seem to grow up with a sense of respect and responsibilty, which is very encouraging.

 

Remembrance Sunday normally finds me in the garden, clearing leaves and pottering about. At 11 o'clock, I will pause for two minutes quiet contemplation and think of Arthur and Wilfred, the two Great Uncles I never new.

My grandmother remembered Arthur and Wilfred, grandfather's two brothers who were lost in the war. She always preferred to spend Remembrance Sunday in the garden rather than attending any service. "Too many painful memories" she would say.

And so, over the years I have done the same, remembering them in my own quiet way, out in the garden.

For some reason however, this morning I made a spur of the moment decision to drive over to the village where I grew up and join the gathering at the war memorial on which, among the names of those from that village who were lost, are those of Arthur and Wilfred.

I am glad I did. It turned out to be a rather poignant occasion, for me at least.

When I arrived a few minutes before 11 o'clock, at the little war memorial opposite the church, no one was there.

Yes, the stone memorial had been cleaned and swept and the small hedge around it had been recently trimmed, but there was no wreath, nothing but a small plastic figure of some soldiers, perhaps left there by a small child.

A few minutes before eleven, a lady passed by on a horse, we exchanged pleasantries and she continued on her way. After a couple of minutes, two ladies came walking along the road towards me, bade me a good morning, and continued on their way.

In a village of some three or four hundred souls, no one, it seems, could find the time or inclination to visit the war memorial at the appointed hour, on Remembrance Sunday. Perhaps they chose to remember at home in their own way, or perhaps they were attending other services or memorial events elsewhere. Perhaps.

And so, at 11 o'clock, I stood there, a lone figure in the autumn sunshine, silently paying my respects to all those young men who were lost from that village. As I stood there among the gently falling leaves, my eyes went down the list of fifteen names carved into the stone, many of them familiar to me, and finally, I read the inscription beneath the list of the fallen...

'Lest We Forget'...

 

Well that made I cry again Trunky

 

I am so glad you were there for them
Our village memorial is well attended; for now. But, I wasn't there.

Quite!

I went to the woods where, in recent times, trenches have been discovered and it is suggested that these were either training trenches or comms trenches or, perhaps, both. I chose that spot for my remembrances.

 

As regards this. I watched the coverage on Sky News. Thats the only English "news" channel we get here. As usual, I did respect the two minutes silence.

The ceremony made me think a lot, as it always does. On that day, we should not only rememebr the fallen, but the families of the fallen. The suffering they went through after receiving the news that a loved one had died.

One person that I did think about was my paternal grandfather. Up until just a few years ago, no member of the family even knew he served in WW1. Not even his children! Although I have not seen his service record (but would dearly love to have a copy!) I do know that he was lucky to survive for several reasons. First, he was wounded twice, on both occasions being sent back home to England for convalescence. Second, one of his tasks was a member of a "Bombing Team" and another was as a machine gunner. Both somewhat dangerous jobs!

Just think, if he had been killed, I would not be here to pester you lot!