This time last year I came across this quote on FatBoyFat’s blog. It sums up today perfectly:
Henry Allingham is Britain’s oldest war veteran; at 112 one of only four known British survivors of World War 1. And he says it much better than I can:
“Whenever I saw people wearing poppies, it reminded me of my time in France when death and the fear of death was as near to me as the poppies growing in the fields.
“Age has made my eyesight fail and I can no longer see the symbolic red flowers. But when someone near tells me they’re wearing a poppy, I always ask if I can feel them. It’s comforting to know that people are still paying their respects.
“And that is all a poppy represents – respect. All this talk of wearing white poppies, red poppies and no poppy at all is getting away from the point. Pinning a poppy to your chest is a sign that you are remembering all those men who didn’t want war, but volunteered anyway and had no idea of the horror and brutality they would face.”
And now they are all gone. We’ll still remember them.
Indeed we will.
I’ve noticed a real change this year. It’s only two years ago that I ended up explaining about poppies to several groups of students. There’s a much more knowing and sombre mood this year.
yes and a noticeable silence this year, even in busy London offices.