Remembering

As most people know today is Remembrance Sunday. The day in the year that the country honours its dead for defending the freedoms that we all enjoy today.

On 'Poppy Day' as it's usually known, practically every city, town and village people gather at war memorials and fall silent at 11am, the time of day that hostilities ceased in 1918; World War 1.

As it was a lovely morning, I thought I would go and pay my respects and take some photos too. There were a lot of people there waiting to do the same.

There was a march past of present forces' personnel, local Scout and Brownie groups and of course veterans from the Royal Legion.

Everyone fell silent at the allotted time. Then local dignitaries laid wreathes of poppies around the war memorial. Then most people went to the local church to attend a service of thanksgiving for the sacrifice that people had made during the many conflicts that the world has seen during the last 100 years, and is still going on today.

I then had a look at the wreathes and where they had come from. I thought this one was colourful and poignant.  Dead at 22. Alec probably hadn't seen much life outside his home town until he enlisted and worked his way up to being a pilot. I wonder what planes he flew? Spitfires, Lancaster's Hurricanes. Whatever he did fly, his life was snubbed out far too soon by the enemy.

And what about 22 year olds now, I wonder if they have ever compared their life to that of someone of their own age, who died nearly 70 years ago. No X Box, mobile phone or DVDs for Alec. Just the knowledge that what he was doing was right, even though it cost him his life.