Remembrance Day 2020
I don’t know why I found myself moved to tears when trying to explain to a five-year-old on Sunday morning what was going on at the Cenotaph. He was fascinated by the men in uniform and wanted to know what their ‘badges’ were for? I said they were called medals and were given to soldiers who had fought a war, and that these people were called heroes, and today was the day that we remembered what they did.
It was an especially beautiful day this Sunday, and London was washed in pale gold sunshine, with just a hint of mist. Something about the deserted streets, where usually on this day, there would have been ranks of people waiting to pay respect to the old soldiers marching past, was particularly poignant. Nearly all gone, I kept thinking – there will be fewer and fewer with the passing years, and in the silence, it felt already as if the ghosts were there. The reduced number of the great and the good who divested themselves of their duties was a reminder, too, of our present danger, and the sanctity of life. The stark simplicity of the monument, the laying of wreaths by future kings, the sound of the last post, the pipes and drums, are unmatched in their power to humble us. And the small child, fixed to the spot in front of the television, watching the images from the wars of the twentieth century, was suddenly a sentinel of hope for a future beyond the kind of slaughter that we vow each year will never again take place; a future that had been fought and won for him. When it came to the picture of the Spitfire pilot, smiling jauntily in front of his plane, and I began to explain how these brave men had actually flown above the piece of land on which we were now standing, to fight and defeat the enemy, I was unable to continue without my voice breaking.
Is it something to do with the increase in my years that I feel these things more keenly? The weight of loss hangs heavy all around us on this day, and with each passing year feels nearer. But then it comes to me however more miraculous it is, even in these dark days, that we are able to live freely, pursuing our dreams, in our safe and beautiful land, because it was so bravely and selflessly defended half a century ago when a great threat came upon us. Or is it because Covid 19 has reminded us more immediately of what we have come to take for granted, and as we lockdown, of what we miss and cherish most dearly. The company of friends and family, our communal life, our fellowship with each other in our everyday world.The precious gift of life itself, and our duty to live it to its fullest each day that we have.