Lest we forget

A post on the delightfully named blog of a Muddling Along Mummy caused me to pause this afternoon.

As is my own tradition, I picked up my poppy pin from the Legion stand in St. Helier yesterday and spent a pleasant couple of minutes catching up with the volunteers, one of whom actively served in Iraq first time around and departed with my symbol of support pinned firmly to my jacket.

Along with Muddling Mummy, I’ve noticed that this year there seems to be a distinct lack of poppies on display on the lapels of the nation (well the small portion that I get to see in my lunch break) and really can’t fathom why this would be.

Sure, we’re all busier now and yes the great wars of yesteryear are even further behind us (sadly the last of those to remember the Second World War are likely to be dying out within the next 10 years) but the media is filled with reports of our forces facing very real and very current peril overseas. Stories of the solemn marches though Wooton Bassett adorn the inner pages and covers of our newspapers and TV adverts do their best to penetrate the layers of cynicism and disinterest that surround post war welfare for soldiers.

As a child and a Boy Scout (probably just Scout now … thanks PC madness) Remembrance Sunday meant an actual parade, being part of the day alongside representatives from all the armed forces as well as the various cadet groups, turned out in our smartest in the freezing cold November weather to pay our respects to those who had fought, and died for our country.

As a man my respect became less overt, a paper poppy or pin worn with quiet thanks.

I don’t wear my poppy with pride per se. I don’t support a lot of the things the armed forces do or those who make the decisions to deploy them but I am thankful for those men and women who are willing to sacrifice their everything for my freedom.

The recent wars (Iraq, Afghanistan, Iraq again) have not had the direct levels of influence on life at home that the great wars wielded and perhaps the memories of what the armed forces can be called to protect are fading. Oil, opium and terrorism are much less tangible threats than lack of food or liberty but at the core of remembrance day is not what is currently being fought for. Rather its is focussed on knowing that our armed forces are there to do whatever is necessary to preserve our way of life and that those that went before held these values just as highly.

For me a poppy is not about pride in the army and it’s certainly not about encouraging conflict or massive ‘defence’ budgets. It’s about remembering that, until mankind evolves to a level where war is no longer needed, there will always be those who lay down their lives for the rest of us. Ordinary people like my grandfather who worked as an aircraft engineer in WWII, like my great-uncle who fought in the European theatre and was evacuated from Dunkirk, like my friends who’ve thankfully returned from Iraq and Afghanistan and for all those who are never going to make it home.

For them I wear my poppy and would encourage all of us to do the same. Their sacrifice was made without condition and we all benefit from it – £1 and a small paper flower is the least we can do to show our thanks and respect.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young.

Straight of limb, true of eyes, steady and aglow.

They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,

They fell with their faces to the foe.

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