The service was conducted from the war memorial; one of our favourite places in the park to sit in peace and have a picnic. To see so many people gathered in hushed silence around the memorial was an overwhelming sight. I hadn't seen many people wearing poppies in the weeks leading up to Remembrance Sunday and so it was truly lovely to be part of such a large group of people, all gathered together with a common purpose; to remember the fallen.
It was bitterly cold, but the low autumn sun shone, taking the edge off the chill. As we watched the various services marching through the park to take their position for the service, everyone clapped, and the children were given Union flags to wave. The whole experience made me very proud to be British.
After the service, the girls placed their poppies on the memorial as we remembered Mr Y's great uncle, who died in
Oh! You who sleep in Flanders Fields,
Sleep sweet - to rise anew!
We caught the torch you threw
And holding high, we keep the Faith
With All who died.
We cherish, too, the poppy red
That grows on fields where valour led:
It seems to signal to the skies
That blood of heroes never dies,
But lends a lustre to the red
Of the flower that blooms above the dead
And now the Torch and Poppy Red
We wear in honour of our dead.
Fear not that ye have died for naught;
We'll teach the lesson that ye wrought
by Moira Michael.
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.