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November 12, 2003
Remembrance Day
Yesterday saw the dedication in London of a rather belated, but nonetheless splendid, memorial to the ANZAC forces who gave their lives in two World Wars. It is something the denizens of these small islands overlook that their Colonial cousins probably made a greater sacrifice in terms of population than anyone else. Certainly Australia, New Zealand and South Africa fielded all volunteer forces and usually got put into situations everyone else couldn't manage. Often without the right weaponry or support.
The South Africans lost an entire Division at Tobruk, after being sent in to relieve the Australian Division without anti-tank weapons and without ammunition for what they did have. Guess what, it was actually a big administrative error - the weapons were available, but someone in Cairo hadn't signed the paperwork to allow it to be sent to the front. Rommel certainly found that a useful ommission when he attacked. Even so, the South Africans held out a lot longer than anyone thought possible.
Some years ago, I visited the Menin Gate at Ypres. The "gate" is a memorial to the fallen of the first World War and is inscribed with the names of those who died on this salient but whose bodies were destroyed, lost or never found. Again, I was appalled at the numbers of South African and ANZAC names recorded on it - until then I had had no idea they were even there! For those who are interested, this salient includes the area known as Paschendal, a small village that was wiped from the face of the earth during the fighting. I find it somehow very fitting that the Last Post is sounded at the Gate every afternoon at 1600 - by buglers from the Ypres Fire Brigade.
The slaughter in this conflict was horrendous on all sides, and I still find it very moving when I visit some of the small churches in Gloucestershire to take services, to see the lists of names on their memorials where you can see, fathers, brothers and sons all listed as killed. It is no wonder that rural Britian changed forever after this conflict. Interestingly only two villages in England have no memorial and one is in the area I used to serve. The reason is that they lost no one in both conflicts even though they went off to fight as everyone else did. Upper Slaughter has a roll of those who served in the Parish Church - giving thanks for their safe return.
Those who would like to rewrite the history books, or who would like to decry the need for the war, should consider the world under Hitler, had he not been stopped, or the world under the likes of Stalin. My father, who returned from the Far East with nightmares and a deep loathing of the enemy he had fought for two years in that theatre (in 1944 he turned 21 and he had joined up at 18 in the RN), was in no doubt that the war had been necessary. I gave his diaries from the Arakan Campaign to the South African Defence Force Museum some years ago and even in their cryptic form they were enough to give you the shivers in some places. Particularly when describing what they found on entering Rangoon and one or two other places.
My mothers father had served in WWI and been almost killed on day 2 of the Somme, the day the Irish Division ceased to exist. After a lengthy recovery in which he was lucky to keep his leg, he returned to the front as a gunner in the Royal Garrison Artillery on a 7.2 inch howitzer. He never claimed the medals he had earned for his war and suffered into the 1950's from "gas boils" which could incapacitate him for days at a time. My other grandfather had served in the forces as well, but being older, had fought in earlier wars - some of that alongside my mothers grandfather who fought in the Anglo Boer War and several other "Colonial skirmishes".
I have been fortunate, according to some, in having never been called upon to fight in a formal war, but have, instead had to deal with the aftermath of those who plant bombs in cars, wheelie bins, on railway stations and other public places for some extreme "cause" or another. There are no medals to commemorate these campaigns and those of us in the emergency services are told that it is our job to just get on with it. It has left me with a deep contempt for anyone who styles themselves a "freedom fighter" - the real name is murderous moron - and for the political system and the systems administrators who tie themselves up in so many "rules of engagement" that it is impossible to deal effectively with such threats. You have only to deal once with a maimed, burned or wounded child, grandparent or mother to know that these perpetrators are not worth worrying about and their so called cause is anything but "just". No cause can ever justify attacking the innocent.
These days I specialise in teaching people how to investigate these scenes, and it is my fervent hope that if enough people can be shown how to do it effectively and correctly (the "rules" again!), we can put the perpetrators away for a very, very long time.
OK, that's my Remembrance Day thought. The more I study the history of these and other wars, the more I realise just how big a debt this generation owes these men and women. I will continue as long as I live to be proud of them and to honour them whenever and wherever I may be.
Posted by The Gray Monk at November 12, 2003 10:16 AM
Comments
Dear Sir, I would like to say I am in total agreement. Some of the members of my family have had to deal with the tragic event known as war. I had two relatives that went ashore on the first wave of those unforgiving beaches known as Omaha and Utah. My mother was born in 1943 in Athens,Greece. My Greek Grandfather was in the merchant marines when his ship was captured by German forces. He got to spend the next year in a concentration camp(even though he was Orthodox) known as Bergin Belsan. Another of my greek relatives fought on the Bulgarian border for over a month trying to keep the German army out of Greece. When the Germans broke through the lines he had to walk all the way back to Athens before he could find safety. My father was stationed in Greece while in the U.S.Army(which of course is where he met my mother). He was one of those people who had the job of putting the warheads on the missles(ajax and hercules).We were not supposed to have these missles in Europe at the time per agreement with the former U.S.S.R.(so much for agreements). When he and my mother got back to West Virginia,he was called back into the army because of the Cuban missle crisis. In 1974 we were getting ready to leave Greece and return to the U.S. Because the Turks had invaded Cyprus many airline ticket holders cancelled their reservations. The airline(TWA)told us that we could stay one more day if we chose because they had plenty of seats available. Since we already had all of our stuff at the airport(all of our stuff looked like a supply line for the Berlin Airlift)we decided to go on home that day. We made it back to West Virginia the following day. While unpacking from our trip we heard on the radio that the plane we would have been on had we stayed one more day blew up over the Adriatic Sea. Someone had put a bomb in one of the engines. I apologize if this sounds like one big run-on sentence.Im not much of a writer. I fully agree with the need for people to be thankfull and proud of those who have had to fight for our freedom, often times often times paying the ultimate price. I also have great respect for you sir and all the people around the world in emergency services who have to deal with such graphic events such as terrorism.Keep trying to make the world a safe place.
Posted by: michael browning at June 10, 2005 01:56 PM