I think it is always worth bearing in mind that there may be differing views held by service men and women and their families about Remembrance Day and other days commemorating military victories and defeats. I’ve heard these views expressed myself in articles I’ve read and radio interviews I’ve listened to. Some find it particularly galling that these commemorations are held with all due solemnity and fanfare and yet our elected representatives appear to have learnt nothing from these conflicts. Often there is much censure for daring to question the symbolism of the occasions. Here is a reflection on Remembrance Day by David Cox, whose father fought in WWII.
I barely acknowledge it. I don’t hate it like I hate some stupid societal rituals but I don’t feel what I should about it. So, it comes. It goes. I should put on a better show than just buying a poppy, I suppose, but my father didn’t have much time for it. I learned from him. And he should know.
Seaforth Highlanders. Italy. WWII.
My father was wounded badly in a historic battle at Ortona. Hit by heavy artillery. Lay hanging in a tree in the battle ground for three days. Carried out on the dead cart. Received a 100% disability pension. They not only didn’t think he’d live, they thought that if he did, he’d be a vegetable. And they were right for about 15 years – like the plant in the Little Shop of Horrors, though. After that, he got a bit of life back but even then…
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