And so it's over
The eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month has passed for the hundreth time.
The last post has sounded, the flags furled and the bands, army cadets, scouts and guides marched off. The crowds drift away from the memorial cenotaphs which will then continue to sit alone, on a village green or in the centre of an unapproachable roundabout, for another twelve months.
The poppies will fall not just in the fields of Flanders but from the lapels of the folk in the shopping malls but the men and boys that are supposed to be remembered by them will also drift back into the mists.
The centenary of the great war will have been commemorated and "Lest we forget" has been repeated over and over but within a few weeks it will be replaced with "Merry Christmas"or another Yuletide greeting.
But the men, many just boys, who died in that so called great war in some corner of a foreign field or in the depths of the sea, will still be there presumably still believing that they had died for something worthwhile. After a century which has included another world war and numerous other conflicts since, it is difficult to understand why it was not the promised " war to end all wars".
The politicians and military of many countries, including our own still appear to believe that political problems can be resolved by military action.
If you, like me, do not believe this to be true, then don't unpin that poppy from your lapel. Wear it or a poppy badge every day in the hope that it will eventually mean that the death and maiming of service men and women is not required.
Ask, as did Siegfried Sassoon. "have you forgotten?"
