Eleventh
I put a beach stone on the plinth. I had written "Thank You" on it with a permanent black marker and a single poppy too.
Normally, when I am standing there, my thoughts wander to my Uncle Jack and all the other young men who never came home. What a terrible waste it all was. But this year my thoughts also drifted to Ukraine and the Russian threat and how the peace we have taken for granted for so many years is now in jeopardy.
All those young men - mostly men anyway - they did not make the wars they died in. They were made by other men far from the front line, far from the battlefield. Of The First World War it was said that it was "the war to end all wars" but of course the century that has followed proved that not to be the case - again and again.
When will they ever learn?
As I walked home via the graveyard this song by Pete Seeger came to mind. He first wrote it in 1955 after reading "And Quiet Flows The Don" by Mikhail Sholohkov. Over to you Joan...
from Yorkshire Pudding https://ift.tt/aR2g4YS
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