There went a phase in the seventies and eighties where Remembrance Sundays were regarded as anathemae of The Left as they Glorified War. In this, as in so many things, I was out of step with the comrades who now steal the last pennies from the pockets of the common man. I have always seen Remembrance Sunday as a commemoration of the far-too-many poor ordinary blokes who lost lives, limbs or reason in the awfulness of war. And some type of public consolation to their families and friends.
It is moving and disturbing to see the war memorials in even the smallest of villages, each and every one with long rolls of the names of the local fallen. The breadth and extent of the losses are astonishing. I cannot help wondering what type of world it would have been had they survived.
P is for Pyjamas
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[image: #AtoZChallenge 2024 letter P]
P is for Pyjamas, from the Persian word pajama, originally loose light
weight trousers. What's not to love about comin...
21 hours ago
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2 comments:
Absolutely right behind you on this. What always struck me were the memorials to the "Pals" Battalions from the First World War which you see all across the North. I remember Michael Wood commenting on the memorial in Accrington, Lancs - the "Accrington Pals" being one such Battalion that was cut to pieces at some stage.
I find those memorials ineffably sad. Similarly the ones you can see at Bristol Temple Meads and Manchester Victoria, commemorating the dead of the old railway companies.
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