In Remembrance, joined.

Today, at the eleventh hour, of the eleventh day, of the eleventh month... on the hundredth year... We remember them.

Today, I found myself unable to sing the National Anthem. It wasn't because I didn't want to because I really did. I was unable to... I was too moved by the occasion.

Luckily, I was among many friends and towns folk who joined me in my reflection on this hundredth commemoration... this centenary of the end of the "war to end all wars".

I remembered those friends and colleagues who sadly took their final journeys, while I was serving.

My first trip to Iraq is particularly poignant at this time of year because I landed in Basrah, to find that three of my RAF colleagues had lost their lives to a mortar attack on the living accommodation.

During my time in the RAF, I made a lot of friends and acquaintances along the way and I remember those who have been taken away while at home and travelling... in accidents, through illness and through mental tragedy.

I also remember and think of, those who are still struggling with their own personal memories that cause them great pain and continued suffering, especially when remembrance is the focus of the nation.

I also think of the families of those servicemen who are currently on operations abroad... those who carry the weight of their families while their husband, wife or significant other is facing peril, many miles away.

I also remember my family members who were changed by WWII and spent many years, overcoming their demons to lead relatively normal lives... some I never met, yet they had a profound effect on my family and how I was raised.

I also think of my legacy... my son who is currently serving in the RAF and who will be away from these shores over Christmas. My daughter who is at home, working hard... but who always manages to take those two minutes to reflect; if she is unable to attend the Remembrance commemorations with us.

Then I reflect on the freedoms and opportunities that we have, as a result of the sacrifices of those who have laid down their lives... I never knew them... but without them, our lives would be very different.

At this time of year, these words come to mind:

With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children, 

England mourns for her dead across the sea. 

Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit, 

Fallen in the cause of the free.




Solemn the drums thrill; Death august and royal 

Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres, 

There is music in the midst of desolation 

And a glory that shines upon our tears.




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

Straight of limb, true of eye, 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 contemn. 

At the going down of the sun and in the morning 

We will remember them.




They mingle not with their laughing comrades again; 

They sit no more at familiar tables of home; 

They have no lot in our labour of the day-time; 

They sleep beyond England's foam.




But where our desires are and our hopes profound, 

Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight, 

To the innermost heart of their own land they are known 

As the stars are known to the Night;




As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust, 

Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain; 

As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness, 

To the end, to the end, they remain.

For the Fallen

BY LAURENCE BINYON