In Memory Of

George Bernard Shaw said, "We learn from history that we learn nothing from history." On this day - ANZAC Day - we remember all those who were lost in the first, second and subsequent wars and today I remember the father who gave me life but who I never knew because he was killed before I was born.


I don't know his name or anything about him except that he was a Scot who was in the RAF and was killed in the second world war.


The father who adopted me was a pacifist and I have always believed in the utter futility of war. Yet wars are still being fought and men, women and children still die because of wars. 


Will we ever learn? Those who start wars have obviously never read Otto von Bismarck's words - 'Anyone who has ever looked into the glazed eyes of a soldier dying on the battlefield will think hard before starting a war.'


So today I remember the father I never knew and thank him for giving me life and forever being a part of me, for of course he lives on in me - in my DNA, my characteristics and in who I am. He also lives on in my children and grandsons and we remember him - we remember him.


There is a wonderful poem by John Gillespie Magee Jnr. entitled 'High Flight' and I include it in memory of my unknown father.

‘High Flight’

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth

And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds - and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of - wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or even eagle flew -
And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand and touched the face of God.

Some years ago I had a trip to Italy and visited Monte Cassino where so many brave men died. All those pristine white headstones stretching as far as the eye could see - so many broken hearts, broken lives, so much pain and so much grief lay entombed among the graves.

I was born in the war but can only remember the sound of the air raid warning and having to hide under the stairs. I pray that one day mankind learns the way towards a peaceful existence but in memory of all who have died through the countless wars mankind has raged throughout the centuries, and especially the Great War this poem says it all. However, may the 'torch' that was passed on be to light the way to peace not war.

In Flanders Fields

by John McCrae, May 1915 - The Canadian military doctor and artillery commander

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

We Shall Remember Them