Andy's Blog

Remembrance Sunday is a tough one for me, what with my ‘coming out’ as a full blown atheist being in conflict with my desire to take part in the rememberance ceremony which is usually always a church related activity.  Having just come back from a service I find that my Atheism is somewhat more cemented than it was, but then again so is my desire to remember the fallen.

Many years ago, when my Sister and I were still fairly small children, my parents used to ship us off to Sheringham, on the Norfolk coast, to stay with our Grandparents for a couple of weeks during the Summer.  This was probably more to let our Parents have a break rather than allow us to have a chance to play on the beach.

I do remember one grey day, being alone in the living room, watching some 1950′s war film about the landings in Sicily and, as 10 year olds usually do, getting all excited about the shooting and heroic charging up hills, etc.  It wasn’t until a voice behind me said “It wasn’t like that”, that I noticed my Grandad sadly looking at the film from the doorway.

Usually when my Grandad told stories, it was about Buses or Coaches and usually resulted in us Grandchildren deperately looking for escape routes.  However that morning my Grandad told me about the realities of War, about the scared young men having to do things which still haunted, those that survived, a lifetime later, and about those that never came back and having to witness what that entailed; usually not the clean wound through the heart and a sigh.

I never really heard my Grandad speak about the war before that, or really very much after that.  I think I was just lucky enough to be there when a memory was stirred, of his time within that campaign, and a desire to ensure that their sacrifices were not forgotten and more importantly not sanitised.

My Grandad died not so long ago and, as I did at my  paternal Grandad’s funeral, I wept as the Last Post was played at his funeral.  I still weep as I hear that lament, and I did again as it was played at todays Remembrance Service.  However this time I felt slightly less self conscious about it when I noticed the young paratrooper in front of me also wiping tears away.

I think it right that my lack of belief takes a large step backwards to honour those that had a larger belief; that what they were doing was right and would protect those that they love.  It is, after all, the ultimate sacrifice and should be remembered by us all.