Today is Remembrance Sunday

For The Fallen

With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.
Solemn the drums thrill: Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres.
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.
They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
They mingle not with laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England’s foam.
But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;
As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain,
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.

Laurence Robert Binyon, 1869-1943

This is the part that always gets me, in Binyon’s Ode. The ones we remember never age, they are always the young brother/daugther, or other relation, that never changes.

Lovely sentiment, Quartz.

Today is actually Armistice Day. Tomorrow is Rememberance Sunday. I stood in the middle of Oxford for the two minutes’ silence, but few others appeared to be stopping. I’m off tomorrow to the War Memorial in St. Giles for the service.

Bl**dy hell - you’re right. And I didn’t even have anything to drink last night.

I wore my British Legion poppy all day today. It puzzled my students of course. THey came to the conclusion that today was my birthday or Valentine’s Day. But two Americans asked me what it was.

Sigh.

Decoration Day always depresses me.

That’s sad, because Arabs did their bit in WW1 too.

While we’re here, I must say a big thank you to our Antipodean bretheren. The Aussies, of course, for everything they did in two world wars, but today in particularly we’re honoured to remember the Kiwis, whose forbears are being remembered in the UK in a much-overdue gesture. Particularly for World War I, with which they had abso-fucking-lutely nothing to do, for whom they fought and died for the freedom of the British, particularly at Paschendale. For my continued freedom, I thank you.

Had parade rehearsals this morning for rememberance parade tomorrow. The three service detatchments all march through the campus and past the vets into the chapel for the service. Get to wear our no. twos for the parade, it’s a day to look your best and be proud to be wearing the same uniform as those that gave their lives to give us the chance to be here.

At work after rehearsals, however, I noticed only one or two people wearing poppies. When I asked people where theirs had gone, they said they’d either not got them or lost them but a few students didn’t know what I was talking about. I’m ashamed of those people, how long before no-one wears them?

I took my sons to the Remembrance Day ceremonies at the Canadian Consulate in Washington DC. It included the traditional reading of In Flanders Fields, written by Lt. Col. John Macrae (a Canadian Army physician) in 1915. As a kid, we learned this in school. Canadians wear poppies in remembrance of our fallen servicemen and in honour of the service all of our military and merchant marines.

This year I pinned my poppy onto the wreath in remembrance of my uncle, Fred Zink. He was a career Air Force man who died suddenly yesterday after a long, full life. He was a veteran of WWII and Korea.

I must add that we were joined at these services by servicemen from Belgium, Germany, Greece, France, Australia, New Zealand, United Kingdom, and the United States. Thanks from someone who was raised military and has always had great respect for those who serve.

You Brits do this so much better than we do. It’s not about politics or love-it-or-leave-it. It’s about the eternal pride, and sorrow, surrounding men going off to die, something every civilization has known (and were I a Hard American, I’d add, “and will always know”).

A French tourist stopped me in the street yesterday to photograph the poppy pinned to my coat. I keep forgetting that poppies for Rememberance Day is really a Canadian thing. I’ll wear mine next year, even if I’m in the States, because I’ll feel strange without it.

On preview, I see Ginger beat me to John McCrae’s beautiful poem. It’s been in my head all day. I think that’s one piece of poetry that every Canadian schoolkid has memorized.

(Sorry to hear about your uncle, Ginger)

I dunno about that, but there is a bit of a tradition of patriotism in the the various bits of the UK and the former Empire, and sorrow, and respect for the common man.

The last two work best as songs. I’d add some more, but I’m not sure they are out of copyright yet. Google “And the band played Waltzing Matilda”, “Dulce et Decorum Est”, and “An Irish Airman Foresees his Death”.

Brits and I believe Australians also do this. I saw different poppies on their uniforms. Don’t worry about wearing it here - it’s not so uncommon as you may think. There are a lot of us around here, and we only come out of the woodwork for hockey and poppies.

Thanks. Uncle Shreddie was my favourite grand-uncle.

Wearing a red poppie is commonplace for Aussies on Armistace Day. I was under the impression it was originally meant to commemorate the soldiers who fell at Flanders Field, but has since taken on a greater significance as a token of all those who have served in the armed forces at any time.

A welfare org called Legacy, which supports ex-servicemen and women and their families flog the flowers at train stations and around major shopping areas to raise $ for the charity. We also do a minutes silence at 11 am on the eleventh day of the eleventh month…this year unfortunately it fell on a Saturday, so the committment level was not quite so high.

I have been in the Melbourne CBD at 11 am on a weekday in past years, and it is bloody spooky to have EVERYTHING grind to a halt for just a minute. No cars moving, no traffic lights happening, people just stopping dead in their tracks whilst some lone bugler hauntingly trumpets out the Last Post. For me, it’s guaranteed to ensure that my hankie is no longer useable for the rest of the day.

:wink:

Is it like that throughout the Melbourne CBD kambuckta, or just near the Cenotaph? There’s a token silence in Sydney near the Cenotaph, but other than that the traffic and noise surges on.

If you consider Flinders Street Station a ‘cenotaph’ then yes…being one of the busiest intersections in Melbourne, it stops everything else by default anyway so the ignorant punters have no choice but to abide by the custom…and it spreads all the way through the CBD. It’s a very cool place to be at the time. As I mentioned in my previous post, it’s spooky (because it’s all silent bar the bugler) and it’s motionless, in a place that is usually reserved for revving cars. screeching brakes, tooting horns, and discordant buskers. :smiley:

At the Shrine itself, that is someways off the road, so folks aren’t aware of the solemnity of the occasion happening there…ditto with outer suburbs and stuff.

It used to be more common than it was, but I have seen the service man giving out Poppies for donations in Kansas. When I can, I wear a poppy, I still have one from last year. I’d like to have some kind of brooch to wear, that wouldn’t get dusty. goes off to Google

Zabali, the Royal British Legion online shop has a choice of several poppy brooches and badges:

http://www.rblicatalogue.co.uk/catalogueindex2.cfm?i_categoryID=1&c_category=Poppy%20Presents

I took this picture of poppies at the memorial in Canberra, last year on VJ day.