Wearing the poppy

When I was much younger, in my teens and early twenties I was adamant that I would not where a poppy around Armistice Day but now that I have become older it has become a more and more important symbol for me.

I used to feel that the poppy somehow glorified war, especially the ‘Great War’ and that by giving money to charity to support soldiers and their families was allowing the government to wriggle out of its obligations.  Surely anyone who was prepared to lay down their lives for their country deserved to be looked after by the state and so we ended up paying twice, once through taxation and then again through charity.

I’m a little wiser now and a little more experienced and while my views on war and state responsibility have not changed, I no longer feel that the annual expression of remembrance and thanks is something to be avoided.  I now wear my poppy with pride.

Today is Remembrance Sunday, the day in which we are asked to stop and remember the dead and injured from all conflicts.  But how can I remember things that I have never experienced?  Remembrance is the act of recalling something to your mind by an act of memory, keeping something in mind and remaining aware of it.  It does not necessarily mean something that you have experienced or has happened.  We can remember someone’s birthday or an important appointment or to look both ways before you cross the road.

So today and on Armistice Day itself I will be wearing my poppy and remembering.

I remember that war is not great and that the innocent always pay with their lives.

I remember that war is futile and rarely, I would like to say never, solves the problem that it sets out to and so should only ever be used as a defence against direct aggression and then only after all other channels have been exhausted.  For me there are no winners in war.  One side only loses less.

I remember the lives of all of those people who have died, on all sides of conflict, to allow me and my family to live in peace and supreme comfort.

I remember the pain and suffering that all those must feel who have lost loved ones, parents who have lost children, sons and daughters who have lost parents and partners who are left to face their lives alone.

And I remember how fortunate I have been in never having had to go to war, never having been asked to take another man’s life and never having had to make the decision whether to go or to vote with my conscience.

I am wearing my poppy as I have a lot to remember and even more to be thankful for.