Armistice Day

Little one, I said at the beginning of writing this blog that I wanted to pass on my experiences and advice. I went to an event today that I want to talk to you about. I had the privilege of attending the Armistice Day service at the Cenotaph today. Standing with my friends and colleagues, both uniformed and civilian, we witnessed the last of a generation of men who fought in the First World War coming together to pay tribute to their fallen fellow servicemen. These are old men aged between 108 and 112 but they gripped their wreaths with pride. As they were pushed up to the Cenotaph by no less than a recipient of the VC, the MC and the DFC a round of applause echoed round Whitehall. The first two wreathes were laid by current servicemen, but when it came to the oldest, Henry Allingham, things slowed down. We realised that he was trying to lay the wreath himself. I will admit it brought a tear to my eye to see this very real hero struggle to make sure he laid it personally. Sure he was supported, but I cannot begin to tell you the emotion and pride involved in that act. When I think of the people who complain day in and day out of all sorts of stuff (myself included) and then compare to these three gentlemen, I truly realise that we will not see their like again. I proud to be there and it is one moment of time I will never forget. I doubt any of these brave men will be alive by the time you can understand what it is about, but I hope you will told about them and their ilk at home and at school. If not I have met one of them and will willingly tell you about him, and all the other heroes. With love.