At the end of this difficult week, we are remembering our war heroes and the difficult times that led up to their becoming heroes. We are thinking of ultimate sacrifices and life-changing injuries. We are thinking of broken societies past and present, and looking into our own hearts for courage and a moral compass. And as we remember the past, we should be asking ourselves hard questions about the future. Britain does not shirk from remembering, weaving ritual and tradition into the fabric of modern life.
I was at the pub with the Bitter Knitters on Wednesday evening and happened to notice this memorial above the fireplace.
When I looked more closely, I found family:
I’ve told you a bit about the story of Bert Louis Saward in an earlier post, and I’ll say more next spring when we commemorate the 100th anniversary of his death at Flanders. As I stood in silence at our Thundersley village service this morning, I found myself thinking of Bert, wondering who he might have become and how the Sawards of today might have been different had he lived. Remembrance is as personal as it is collective.
When you go home
tell them of us and say
For your tomorrow
we gave our today.
Thundersley’s memorial is new this year; thank you to the committee who made it happen!
(Photo © Martin Hayhurst)
Thank you for sharing your remembrance. Kent