The eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month….. why is Remembrance Sunday, or Armistice Day still so important? Of course, we rightly remember the ceasefire in 1918, and this date has become the occasion to remember all those who have made the ultimate sacrifice in the service of king and country. How important that we do remember! My own grandfather, like thousands of others, was called up to serve in ‘the Great War’, and as a boy, I was acutely conscious of his memories. He served in Egypt and was a part of the expeditionary force under General Allenby in 1917. He crossed the Red Sea, marched up through present day Jordan and crossed into Israel, before being recalled to France to serve with the artillery on the Western Front. On the way, he was torpedoed in the Mediterranean, when the troop carrier, the Leasowe Castle was sunk. He never forgot – he even named his house ‘Leasowe’, and the story he never ceased to tell was how he got to within 20 miles of Jerusalem, but never entered the Holy City.
In America, November 11th is Veterans’ Day and I have twice been privileged to be in the USA on November 11th. In true US style, it is marked with great pomp – I watched the Veterans’ Parade through the streets of New York, with marching bands, cheerleaders, displays of miliary vehicles and waving veterans. It is all rather more sedate in the UK. Remembrance Sunday is held on the Sunday nearest to November 11th, and as well as the formal, national ceremonies at the Cenotaph in London, every local community will gather at their local war memorial, to keep the Act of Remembrance and the two-minute silence.
The older I have grown, so the more important I have come to recognise the importance of this ceremony. My generation has never been called to active service; I have never been ordered to fire a shot in anger; a privilege that men just a few years older than me never had. How right it is that we remember, and give thanks, and pray for peace. Remembrance Sunday is the day to remember all victims of warfare. We wear a poppy as a reminder of Flanders Fields where poppies grew up in abundance in the disturbed soil in the first spring after the end of hostilities.
After 1995, when we held a major celebration to mark the 50th anniversary of the end of World War 2, I quite thought that Remembrance Sunday would quietly fade away, as the generations who had lived through these conflicts of the 20th century began to pass away. Quite the reverse: Remembrance Sunday has grown in significance. Sadly, the reality of warfare is not confined to the past. What is particularly impressive is the way in which the whole community is involved. Still today, it is an occasion when youth organisations will stand shoulder to shoulder with veterans and mark the solemnity of the day. It is truly a national, inter-generational experience.
War Memorials stand in every British community, serving as a stark reminder to my generation, who have been blessed with a peaceful life, of the reality, and the impact of war, as I remember my grandfather – torpedoed on a troop ship – describing how he stood on a beach whilst they went through the roll call of those present… and those absent.
No one can glorify in war – its consequences are just too painful, but it is right to remember. We remember those who have given their lives in the pursuit of peace; those who still bear the marks of suffering – physical and mental. As we remember, we stiffen our resolve to work for peace, tolerance and understanding. And we pray for peace.
One of the most poignant aspects of my time in Thailand was to visit the war graves in Kanchanaburi, to conduct the Act of Remembrance in the military cemetery beside the Bridge over the River Kwai, and to meet some of the veterans who worked on the ‘Death Valley Railway’, who even in their late 90s, still went all the way back to remember. I listened to their stories and could vividly imagine what life had been like for them, as they stood on the site of their old POW camp, with tears welling up in their eyes.
Truly, we do well to remember; to seek to learn the lessons; to pray for peace and to work for justice. May their sacrifice never be in vain.
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