Photo: Royal British Legion.
Next Wednesday marks 102 years since the end of WW1, and today and over the next few days many church and civil services will be remembering those who died in the Great War, the war known as the war to end all wars, but it wasn’t, of course. The last 102 years are nothing in terms of time, hardly over a single lifetime, and yet all those who lost their lives in that conflict, and in WW2 as well, and the Falklands, Iraq, Afghanistan, Syria, and others, didn’t have their full lifespan. And their loved ones found their own lifetimes changed forever by loss and grief.
Naturally commemorations will feel very different this year as restrictions mean the traditional events are altered beyond recognition, but as living memories dwindle fast as the numbers of those who survived fall through the passage of time, so the need for remembrance is perhaps all the greater. And so as the poem says, they won’t grow old, as we who are left grow old, but they should have had the chance to grow old, and so at the going down of the sun and in the morning, we will indeed remember them.