Lest We Forget

On the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month, we keep a minute's silence in memory of those who died or suffered in all wars and armed conflicts.

I mostly spent my minute of silence thinking solemnly and sadly of the sacrifices and suffering caused by war. But as I was in a classroom full of 7-and-8 year-olds who were trying to keep quiet for a whole sixty seconds, I admit that I was, to some degree, stifling rueful laughter. Some of them (my son included) were inspired to join in with trumpety noises during the Last Post, others twitched and wriggled and whispered to their friends. They tried, they sort of know the significance of the moment, but they are so young still, and they can't really grasp it. They spontaneously applauded when the Last Post finished, whereupon their teacher gently informed them that clapping was not appropriate. And they cheered when the announcement went up that they could now go to playlunch. As one of the teachers remarked later to me, it's a very long minute.

These kids can't really fathom the significance of Remembrance Day because they live in a peaceful country in relatively peaceful times. This is something I feel enormously grateful for. I am hopeful that I will never witness my boys pitting their frail and vulnerable flesh against the savagery of man-made weapons, but there are no guarantees, and it could happen any way, any day; in a tall building, on a train, in a bar on the beach. A future free of the barbarity of war is why we do and should commemorate this day and why we keep saying to each other Never Forget.

My grandfather, when he was a lieutenant in the Royal Australian Navy Volunteer Reserve. This picture was taken in 1942, with my grandmother and my aunt. He was 31 years old and had been married only 2 years. He survived the war.