Thought for the day for Beverley FM for Remembrance Sunday 2024

 My Dad is 97, and although he doesn’t always remember things that have happened in the last few days, his recall of his childhood remains pretty clear – as is often the case when people get older.

Dad lived through the second world war. He left school in 1941 at the age of 14 and worked in the huge Ordnance Depot in Chilwell, just outside Nottingham, as an errand boy.

His mother – my grandma – was widowed during the First World War. Her first husband (not my grandfather), Horace, went off to war, but was sadly killed on March 24^th 1918 during the German counter-offensive. When I eventually got out to France to see his memorial at Pozières and brought back photos, I was able to show pictures to my uncle and aunt who were Horace’s children. No-one from the family had visited the location before.

Pozières cemetery and memorial

Grandma died in 1973, aged 87, and I was too young to have had a proper conversation with her about what happened. However, my dad describes an occasion when they were sheltering together from an air raid. There was a radio in the shelter, and the announcer gave out the number of German aircraft shot down that night by the RAF. The people in the shelter understandably cheered, but my dad remembers vividly that his mum did not. She quietly said “they’re some mother’s son”.

Let’s be clear, my grandma wanted to see the tyranny of Hitler defeated. She was no sympathiser with the enemy. But she retained the capacity to understand the common humanity we all share. She had received that awful news of the loss of her husband and she knew that families would be getting the same news far away. They may be on opposite sides of the conflict, but their grief would be the same.

That family story is always in my mind on Remembrance Sunday. It isn’t a celebration,  nor is it a moment to be triumphalistic. It was always intended to be a pause for sober recollection of the terrible human cost of conflict, of thanksgiving for those who put their own lives on the line for our freedom, and to commit to doing all we can to avoid it happening again.

When Jesus said “love your enemies and pray for your persecutors”, I don’t believe he was saying we should condone evil, or collude with injustice. However, I do think he was reminding us that even in the height of human division and conflict, there are some commonalities in our human condition. We are all created in the image of God, even though that image is often terribly obscured and dimmed, and we reduce our own humanity when we cease to remember the humanity of others – even those with whom we are in bitter conflict. They are, to quote my grandma, some mother’s son or daughter.

FIFA and poppies

Theresa May has said that it is "utterly outrageous" that FIFA have ruled that poppy logos may not be used on the shirts of the players in the forthcoming England v Scotland qualifier. I know this is a delicate and controversial subject, so I just want to share the questions that it prompted as I reflected upon it.

1. Is is a "poppy ban"?
No - it's a blanket ban. The ban is against all symbols which have a political or religious connotation. When the question about poppies was put to FIFA, it ruled them out on this basis (as it did in Nov 2011) - hence the row. FIFA has to deal with all kinds of sensitivities over symbols and logos all over the world, and in many situations (just think of the Middle East, or even the Balkans, for example) a symbol or logo can be highly inflammatory. Nearer to home, the poppy has become identified with one side in the divisions of Northern Ireland, and has a political connotation there, even if it hasn't in the rest of the UK. And we have to bear in mind that just because something hasn't a political or religious connotation for me, it doesn't mean it doesn't for anyone.

For an England v Scotland game, all players have roots in the respective nations, both of which observe the remembrance ceremonies. In such a context, blanket rules can appear harsh. But might it not be safer to abide by them, rather than risk setting a precedent which could lead to something much more controversial elsewhere? That is the kind of question FIFA has to wrestle with.

This was all expressed very well by Rory Smith on Radio 5 Live

2. Surely wearing a poppy is voluntary?
Wearing poppy logos on football kits is a fairly recent initiative as far as I am aware. It now routinely happens for league games on the weekend of Remembrance Sunday. I have sometimes wondered what players from other nations make of it, and I also noted that it effectively makes wearing a poppy compulsory. There was considerable controversy when James McClean refused to wear a logo shirt in 2014. Regardless of what we make of his particular reasons, we should at least note that this has effectively made poppy wearing compulsory for footballers.

Likewise, there is considerable pressure on those appearing on TV over this period to wear a poppy, and not doing so generates controversy. Looking at some of the ostentatious poppies that have been worn on X-Factor, etc, I have wondered whether we are beginning to miss the underlying meaning. The simplicity of the original poppy was surely part of the point, and the value was that is was a voluntary act, expressing support for the families of the fallen, and those who were injured in conflict.

As the Royal British Legion themselves say:

"Wearing a poppy is a personal choice and reflects individual and personal memories. It is not compulsory but is greatly appreciated by those it helps – our beneficiaries: those currently serving in our Armed Forces, veterans, and their families and dependants."

Obliging people to wear a poppy under pressure is no way to generate the respect and observance which the most vocal proponents desire. Indeed it can be very counter-productive, as Dominic Sandbrook noted last year in (of all things) the Daily Mail!

3. Why Now, and Why This?
Back in the 1940s and perhaps even in the early 50s, some active players would have served in the forces. Some died, others were injured, and all would have had clear memories of the war - whether from home, or from active service. What is curious is that the same pressure to have logo shirts doesn't seem to have been around. I can only speculate that for them, the civic and church ceremonies of remembrance were a sufficient expression of loss, sadness and respect. I expect most wore poppies on the clothes they wore on the way to the match, but not on the pitch. It made me wonder why it wasn't enough to mark remembrance in other ways - e.g. laying a wreath and/or a silence before the match starts. Why does the poppy have to be on the football shirt itself for respect to be properly expressed?

Perhaps it tells us something about where people find and express meaning, now that only a small proportion of the population do so in church. Perhaps these civic signs and symbols express and convey what religious symbols used to do, and that is why they become loaded with such emotion. I also wonder whether in this context of brexit, it reveals that (at least some) Brits want to assert themselves against another international organisation perceived as telling them what to do. Given FIFA's recent track record, it's not surprising they're getting criticised.

I'll finish with what I wrote 6 years ago on the subject of poppies, in the context of the Scottish Premier League insisting on poppies for all SPL football kits that weekend:

"If the controversy focuses on the external symbols of remembrance, then we're missing the point. Wearing a poppy doesn't create respect for those who have died - respect is something that has to come from somewhere deeper than that. For others, remembrance is something they wish to keep discreet and internal, and not be forced into expressing it in a fixed form dictated by society at large. 

So I won't judge anyone on whether they happen to be wearing a poppy or not. I will be wearing one today and on Sunday as I remember the tragedy and loss of war, with so much potential and possibility cut short and as I pray that wars on such scale are never seen again. 

My grandfather survived the trenches. I think he only ever spoke 5 or 6 sentences about it in all the time I knew him. He remembered, and I got the impression that he would have been all too happy to forget most of what he had witnessed. We remember his companions who didn't return, and their suffering and sacrifice in the hope that it will inspire future generations to seek justice and peace in a troubled world." Nov 11 2010

Boundaries of Remembrance

It was inevitable that this year would see an increased emphasis on remembrance as we marked the centenary of the outbreak of the First World War earlier this year. The monuments, memorials and most of all the commemorations on Remembrance Sunday are all part of the way our nation came to terms with its terrible death toll of between 7 & 800,000 (depending on which records are used). It's a staggering loss of life, and yet only a fraction of the number of people killed overall in the 14-18 conflict.

Armistice Day itself (11 Nov) was adopted as a public holiday by several nations, but in the UK, the outbreak of World War 2 led to the moving of the commemoration to the nearest Sunday - it was less disruptive to war production (which has its own irony). That is where the main ceremony has stayed since, although 11/11 has acquired a greater significance in recent years. That has led to some confusion. For example, here in Morecambe we had the main town ceremony on Sunday with over 1,000 people present and many organisations taking part. However, people were still asking about what was happening on 11/11 at the cenotaph with a sense of disappointment that it was not a major event. But for those of us there on Sunday, it would feel strange to be back doing the same thing again so soon.

It begs the question as to whether we need a new national consensus on which day we should use, and where remembrance begins and ends. Some people have argued that the UK should have a Bank Holiday between August and Christmas, perhaps relocating one of the holidays in May. One option might be to use 11/11. If we did that, then all UK ceremonies could take place on Armistice Day and there would be no parallel ceremonies or repetition. Our remembrance would be focussed on the one significant date when the guns fell silent.

It's also interesting which conflicts get included and which don't. Prior to 1914, relatively few war memorials were made. There is a very rare Crimean War memorial in my home town of Beeston. And I suspect that many people miss the fact that our church building contains a Boer War Memorial:

It's interesting that a war that ended at the start of the 20th century with over 20,000 British and allied dead (there were similar scale losses in Crimea) ends up being almost completely overlooked. Possibly it's due to there being some lasting unease about the conduct and legacy of parts of that campaign.

Of course the important thing is not the physical memorial, but the knowledge and appreciation of the cost and destructiveness of war. When memorials say 'lest we forget', it's a sobering reminder that the tragedy of bereavement represented by each name was repeated thousands and thousands of times up an down the country, and that should be all the motivation we need to inspire us to work ceaselessly for peace and reconciliation.

Poppies and T-shirts

We have just entered that time of year when debates and articles begin about wearing poppies around Remembrance Sunday / Armistice Day. One of the shifts in recent years has been the fact that everyone on TV is expected to wear a poppy for at least a 3 week period, and anyone failing to do so is pressured off camera and criticised if they go on camera without the requisite item. ITV newsreader Charlene White got racist and sexist abuse for not wearing one last year. In fact she doesn't object to wearing them altogether, and explains the choices she made here.

The culture around poppies has changed, so that they have become the criterion by which respect is judged. Failure to wear a poppy has become almost synonymous with disrespect. Although I do, in fact, wear a red poppy for a few days, I have a problem with the quick judgments people jump to.

I found an interesting parallel with another very different story about T-shirts, wittily described on the Beaker Folk blog. David Cameron apparently declined to wear a pro-feminism T-shirt, whereas Nick Clegg and Ed Miliband did so (look out for the misprint in the report!). This was seen as a great sign that Cameron lacked commitment to promoting equality for women. It may well be that he does lack that commitment, but to judge him by his choice of shirt seems a rather superficial assessment. Likewise wearing a "this is what a feminist looks like" T-shirt hardly makes you a champion of equality - anyone can do that.

So maybe we need to be a bit cautious jumping to conclusions about people who decline to wear a red poppy. Some will prefer to wear a white one, to show their commitment to peace and reconciliation - which, after all, is a commitment at the heart of the prayers we use on Remembrance Sunday. Some will feel that the poppy has become rather closely associated with a kind of patriotism that they can't go along with. Still others will wish to exercise the choice as to how they show respect, and not be dictated to by convention. What we can't assume is that we know what's going on in the hearts of those who don't (and those who do) wear poppies. The important question is whether we appreciate the cost and tragedy of conflict and are committed to do all in our power to work for peace and reconciliation in whatever circumstances we find ourselves. 

The Story of Horace Heath

Horace Heath was my grandma's first husband. He's not my grandfather, as he died on 24th March 1918, serving on the Western Front. I understand Horace was a baker in Nottingham, and he initially served in the Army Service Corps. By the time he died, however, he was in the Royal Irish Rifles. caught up in the German counter-offensive of 1918, which commenced on 21 March, often known as the Second Battle of the Somme.

He is remembered at the Pozières memorial and cemetery, which commemorates the casualties from that battle. You can view the Commonwealth War Graves Commission entry for Horace online here, which gives his parents' names and address and also my grandma's name and her address at the time. The houses aren't there anymore. Ireton Cottages are gone with all the older housing there, although Ireton Street still exists, and Sherwin Walk is close to where Sherwin Street used to be (just off Huntingdon Street).

No-one from my family had ever been out to the cemetery until I visited in the summer of 1989. I camped near the Thiepval memorial to the 1916 Somme casualties, and then set about trying to find Horace (with no internet, of course). I had a regiment and a date of death to go on, but needed more information.

One location recommended to me was Deville Wood (known as Devils Wood to the soldiers) where South African troops were engaged in a bloody battle for control. Here the forest had regrown, but the undulation of the ground clearly showed the trench lines decades later. There was also an English-speaking visitors centre where I was directed to the memorial I was looking for. I felt a twinge of discomfort at seeing the (then) new museum had been opened by P.W. Botha - one of the last leaders of South Africa under apartheid. However, the memorial there commemorates some 10,000 South African casualties from the Great War.

Pozières is a large cemetery, surrounded by walls with plaques commemorating many more casualties than the graveyard contains. It's on the road from Albert to Bapaume. Horace isn't remembered on a gravestone, but on one of the wall plaques. It was a very strange and memorable experience to visit, read the entry with my grandma's name in it, and know I was the first from the family to have made the journey. I also remember a vivid weird feeling when it occurred to me that if he hadn't died, I wouldn't exist. Grandma married again (another blog post worth there!) and my dad was the youngest child from that second marriage.

Horace's two children ( my dad's half brother and sister) were still alive in the summer of '89, although Auntie Doll died only 3 months later. They had last seen their father as small children, waving him off at the railway station. It was very special to take them photographs of the plaque and the entry in the book of remembrance. They were, of course, overwhelmed and showed me some of the embroidered postcards he sent back, along with his medals and the little bits of information they had about him.

Out there are millions of stories like this, remembered in fading photos and little boxes of memorabilia. Perhaps it's through those that we get closest to the people who lived and died in the reality of the trenches.

What price remembering?

One sad consequence of the current cut-backs is to the National Coalition Building Institute, the organisation that works to build community relations and understanding. This year they are no longer in a position to organise the more formal observance of Holocaust Memorial Day on Jan 27th outside Lancaster Town Hall. There will be an informal gathering to light candles at 6pm, supported by faith groups and others who believe this important day should be marked.

Here are a few statistics to reflect upon from the HMD website. The site also give information about the genocides in Cambodia, Bosnia, Rwanda and Darfur.

It is estimated that up to 6 million Jews were killed between 1933 and 1945 under the Nazi regime.


Upward of 200,000 Gypsies were murdered or died as a result of starvation or disease.


Significant numbers of Gay men were arrested, of whom an estimated 50,000 received severe jail sentences in brutal conditions. Many kept their experience secret after the war because they could not be open about their sexual orientation.


It is estimated that close to 250,000 disabled people were murdered under the Nazi regime.

Approximately 2,000 Jehovah’s Witnesses died under the Nazi regime, 250 of whom were executed for refusing to take part in armed conflict.

It is estimated that the Nazis killed at least 1.9 million non-Jewish Polish civilians during World War II.

Poppies and Martin

In my previous job, today was an even more complicated mixture of issues and emotions than it is now. November 11th is not only Armistice Day, but it's also St Martin's Day, so we tried to mark that each year in the Chapel of the College that bore his name. Legend has it that one of the previous chaplains used to do a firework display to celebrate St Martin and regularly received complaints from people who saw it as disrespectful to the fallen.

Martin himself was a soldier who became a bishop and a scholar. Given that he is the patron saint of both France and soldiers, it is perhaps no coincidence that the Armistice was eventually signed on his feast day, although I have never read of any direct connection being explicitly made.

In the UK, many will pause today at 11am for 2 minutes of silence to remember those who have died in conflict. Likewise there will also be similar observances on Remembrance Sunday with red poppies at the centre and worn by all present.

As in previous years, there has been a debate about poppies. Some people find their association with the casualties of WW1 difficult. The poppies had Haig Fund in the middle - the name of the general widely regarded as responsible for the campaigns where so many British (and other) soldiers lost their lives. White poppies have been available to provide a positive alternative to abstaining.

I don't have a problem wearing a poppy on the day; what I find difficult is that poppies appear earlier each year, and seem to be increasingly compulsory, and sometimes even seem to have become a fashion item. The anti-poppy protest at a recent Scottish football match has clearly upset people, but it does seem odd to me that every Scottish Premier League player will have to wear a poppy at the weekend. What about those players whose native countries weren't involved or were on the other side? More to the point is whether remembrance is something you can impose?

If the controversy focuses on the external symbols of remembrance, then we're missing the point. Wearing a poppy doesn't create respect for those who have died - respect is something that has to come from somewhere deeper than that. For others, remembrance is something they wish to keep discreet and internal, and not be forced into expressing it in a fixed form dictated by society at large.

So I won't judge anyone on whether they happen to be wearing a poppy or not. I will be wearing one today and on Sunday as I remember the tragedy and loss of war, so much potential and possibility cut short and as I pray that wars on such scale are never seen again.

My grandfather survived the trenches. I think he only ever spoke 5 or 6 sentences about it in all the time I knew him. He remembered, and I got the impression that he would have been all too happy to forget most of what he had witnessed. We remember his companions who didn't return, and their suffering and sacrifice in the hope that it will inspire future generations to seek justice and peace in a troubled world.

Related articles

• SPL: Anti-poppy banner regrettable (independent.co.uk)

Do you wear a poppy and when?

I have been in on some interesting exchanges about the why and if of wearing a poppy. It seems that everyone on TV is now placed under huge pressure to wear a poppy, especially extra large ones for X-factor contestants, which turns them into a fashion accessory. And they seem to be coming in earlier and earlier, just like Easter eggs and Christmas decorations. I can't help thinking that this is a huge exercise in missing the point.

Don't get me wrong, I shall wear a (basic) poppy on Remembrance Sunday, not because other people want me to, but because I will be remembering a member of my family lost on the Somme in March 1918 and my own grandfather who lived through over two years' horror in the trenches. He survived and lived to an old age, but he lost many friends.

I'll also be aware of all the losses we have seen in recent years in Afghanistan and Iraq. Although much smaller in number than the 'great' wars of the 20th century, we are made all the more aware by the intense media coverage of everyone whose life is lost.

And I'll also be thinking of 14 Nov, the anniversary of the bombing of Coventry in 1940. Having lived there, I realise that the experience still casts a shadow over the city, as it must in many other cities devastated by war. The symbolism of the ruined cathedral is, of course, particularly evocative. For Coventry, it has inspired people to reach out to other communities - hence it is twinned with Dresden.

Remembrance Sunday and Armistice Day are there 'lest we forget' - lest we forget the death, losses, destruction, pain and grief of war, and lest we forget the need to work for peace and reconciliation in the future to try and avoid such things ever happening again.

Whether you choose to wear a poppy or not is a matter of choice; the important question is what kind of a world are you working for. The badge you wear is much less important than the commitments you keep to.