Like Something From A War Film...

At this time of year, I always look forward to the change in seasons.

As much as I love summertime, I am not sad about saying goodbye to the longer warmer days.

Instead I like the cold dark nights, bringing out the winter wardrobe and hearing the crunch of the fallen autumn leaves underfoot. For this is the time of year that we know that Christmas is just around the corner; bringing with it, the anticipation for the annual Christmas advertising campaigns to start on TV, the classic Christmas songs to play on the radio, for Ant & Dec to bring back ‘I’m a Celebrity Get Me Outta Here’ and to see if we will have any snow as the temperatures drop.

But to get to that stage, you need to either embrace or tolerate the days leading up to and shortly after November 5^th - Fireworks Night.

As a kid, I loved Fireworks Night. Friends of the family would always have a huge party, where the entire neighbourhood would be invited. We would wave sparklers, roast marshmallows, and as we got older were allowed to drink and act more grown up! Some great memories were made.

Where I live, I have a great panoramic view of the local sky line. On Fireworks night and New Year’s Eve, I have the best seat in the house to watch the displays overhead. But the problem now in my current situation of being a parent with a baby under the age of two, it is no fun at all.

For my neighbourhood this weekend was like a re-enactment of The Blitz. It seemed like every property in the immediate vicinity were having Bonfire Night parties, with fireworks exploding from around 5:30 pm through til gone midnight.

The noise generated from these modern fireworks is reminiscent of scenes in documentaries from war-zones. The whistle effect before the huge explosion was like something from a World War Two film. I do not remember the fireworks from my childhood being anywhere near as ferocious as what I observed this weekend.

I am not one to complain about the actions of others. I believe everyone has the right to act the way that they want on their property (within reason) in accordance with the laws of the land. The problem I had was trying to keep my baby boy calm enough to settle down and go to sleep, with the explosions outside our windows. And I am sure I was not alone in feeling this frustration.

So much so, that at the time of writing, over 119,000 people have signed an official petition to ban the sale of fireworks to members of the public, and only approve organised displays. 

https://petition.parliament.uk/petitions/168663

I believe this petition has been set up and signed by so many, not only for the inconvenience it causes to young children, but also the traumatic effect it has on pets& animals, the fact that people let the fireworks off at unregulated times of the day or night, and how unorganised displays can lead to accidents including burns and fire, or induce PTSD in people who have suffered from conflicts.

Throughout the country, there are a huge number of organised displays, usually with a small entry fee, which people and families can attend, to enjoy that night of the year. Without argument,  this is a far safer way to enjoy the spectacle in the night sky.

Fireworks night aka Bonfire Night, aka Guy Fawkes Night has been going for hundreds of years, since 1605, where the King allowed the public to celebrate his survival with bonfires, after a plot to assassinate him and blow up the House of Lords. Over the centuries since, local children would collect and burn an effigy of Guy Fawkes (the man caught with the explosives under the House of Lords), and people would come together to let off the fireworks.

I wonder of all of the people who decided to host a firework party this passed weekend, how many remember the reason for that event, or whether it is just something fun to do at this time of the year, before the lead up to Christmas kicks in.

I am not….

As we rapidly approach 11/11 - Remembrance Day, I have been filled with pride and passion in seeing the veterans, cadets, serving soldiers and volunteers giving their time to participate in raising funds for this year’s Poppy appeal.

Remembrance day and the Poppy Appeal, is where we remember, pay our respects and reflect on those brave individuals who have paid the ultimate sacrifice for our country and the commonwealth, and those who are currently serving for our forces in present day.

The date is significant as it marks the end of the fighting in the First World War, which ended on the 11^th hour, of the 11^th day, of the 11^th month of the year 1918. 

On the closest Sunday to November 11^th, as Brits we are familiar with the Queen, the other members of the Royal family, politicians, religious leaders and dignitaries from around the globe coming together to remember & participate in the laying of wreaths, observing the 'Last Post' and taking part the two minutes silence.

But always more moving for me, was seeing the veterans of the World Wars marching in their thousands past the cenotaph and saluting the tomb of the unknown soldier. It was something I watched every year, and continue to be totally in awe of these men and women, of the greatest generation, who were prepared to give their today’s, so that we could have our tomorrows.

As the years rolled on, the men of WW1 died out, and now we see smaller numbers of WW2 survivors marching. Alongside the WW2 survivors, we see younger veterans and serving soldiers, which is a stark reminder that men are dying today fighting for our country.

I had observed in recent years, that in my opinion, the number of poppies visible on my fellow commuters had dwindled. This may have been a misconception on my behalf, and not reflect the actual trends within the country, but on my commute, I was disappointed that so many were either too busy to buy a poppy, or too ignorant to what that time of the year represents.

However it seems that people are again taking the time to donate, to buy a poppy, to wear that poppy with pride, and remember and honour those brave men and women who have passed before us.

I think part of this is due to the ceramic poppy installation at The Tower of London in 2014, which raised huge sums for various charities, and helped bring the meaning of the Poppy appeal back to the forefront of our minds at this time of year.

The installation at the iconic London landmark was hugely poignant and significant, as it marked 100 years since the first full day of our involvement in WW1. Each poppy was carefully planted to honour each individual of the over eight hundred and eighty thousand fatalities in that world war. It became a place to see, a new attraction in London, and a place to reflect on what those men and their families went through all those years ago. It certainly seems to had a huge effect in the following years.

However, over the recent years, there seems to have been an inevitable backlash and furore about the Poppy in some way.

 In 2013, a television newsreader decided to go against trend of most other people on television, and not wear a poppy, which caused a storm of controversy and heated discussion. 
In 2015, it was the leader of the opposition, Jeremy Corbyn, wearing a white poppy, to represent his pacifism. 

This year, it  is the global football organisation FIFA, stating that the kits worn by the England and Scotland national football teams in the upcoming match, scheduled for Nov 11^th, must not have the poppy on display. This caused outrage, and was discussed in Parliament, with the Football Association’s for both nations deciding to go against FIFAs ruling, and to wear a commemorative black armband with the poppy emblem visible as a mark of respect.

Last year, when the alarm rang in my previous job, to mark the start of the two minutes silence, I was enraged with anger at those around me. Two minutes of your time, at the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month. To stop what you are doing, keep quiet, reflect, and show your respect. It shouldn't too much to ask? In my opinion that is the least we should be doing. That day made me so disappointed in other people. I would say only about 1 in 5 people on my commute wore a poppy. And in my office, when the PA system announced the start of the silence, so many people kept on working, typing away on the keyboard. It was just two measly minutes of the day to remember all of those people who paid the ultimate sacrifice, and people couldn't stop what they were doing. It pissed me off.

I have grown up respecting and wearing my poppy with pride. I will teach that trait to my son, I will teach him about the strength and courage, felt by those under circumstances we can only imagine. I hope that he will share my views on remembering those who paid the ultimate sacrifice to allow us to live the way that we do today. 

Recently, there have been arguments that true meaning of the poppy has been forgotten. That instead of remembering The First and Second World Wars, we are honouring those killed in combats which have not been universally popular, which have been opposed to by thousands of people, and for modern conflicts which we as a nation have taken upon ourselves to get involved in. But for me the political arguments need to be put aside. Whether we should be fighting these wars is a completely different topic for me. What the poppy symbolises is an opportunity to simply say "thank you" to the brave people who do not pick where they are sent to fight, they are simply doing what they are paid (not enough by the way) to do, in service of their country.

On social media I saw a poem regarding the poppy that I hadn’t seen before, and it sums up exactly how I feel. Apparently it was written in a space of a few minutes, by man whilst his wife watched The X Factor. I couldn't find the author's name, but my respect goes out to you Sir. It appeals to me as it sums up what it means to me. The poppy isn't to glorify war or to segregate races, it is a way to acknowledge the sacrifice, to ensure that we are not allowed to forget the lessons learned, or let those memories to fade.

I am not a badge of honour,

I am not a racist smear,

I am not a fashion statement,

To be worn but once a year,

I am not glorification

Of conflict or of war.

I am not a paper ornament

A token,

I am more.

I am a loving memory,

Of a father or a son,

A permanent reminder

Of each and every one.

I'm paper or enamel

I'm old or shining new,

I'm a way of saying thank you,

To every one of you.

I am a simple poppy

A Reminder to you all,

That courage faith and honour,

Will stand where heroes fall.

What the great generations gave us is nothing short of amazing. I cannot begin to fathom what the soldiers and every day people went through during the war years. 

I for one will always wear the poppy with pride, and I can't understand those who want to live in this country and not back the Poppy appeal. Desecration of wreaths and poppies by extremists should not be tolerated, and I hope that the due respect is paid this year.

Of course not everyone wants to wear a poppy, for whatever reason. Some say that the Poppy is no longer doing what it was designed to do, and is being used for political statements. I even saw an article today, which made my blood boil, claiming the Poppy is now a symbol of racism. 

Everyone nowadays has a choice, and with social media they have a place to voice that opinion. Just as I am doing with my blog.   But having that choice is something our generation fully take for granted. Many many men from the two world wars did not have a choice. And that is a huge part of what we are remembering leading up to and an on November 11th. In my opinion, an individual's choice to NOT wear a poppy, is a far bigger political statement by that individual, compared to the people who will be wearing a poppy at this time of year.

Over 100 years may have passed since the commencement of the First World War, and our troops are in various places at harms risk at present. Thank you for the thankless task that you are undertaking. I will wear my poppy to pay respects for any sacrifice from any conflict.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.

At the going down of the sun and in the morning

We will remember them.

Lest we forget.

http://www.britishlegion.org.uk/