MEMORIES OF REMEMBRANCE DAY by Michael Rigg

A few years ago, I made several business trips to London and other parts of the United Kingdom. One trip to London occurred in November, right after a very historic U.S. Presidential election (if I remember correctly) and as the U.K. began to commemorate what the nation refers to as Remembrance Day. My visit that November was brief, but I’ve though often about what I saw and the emotions I experienced.

Beginning with the guns of August in 1914 and finally ending at the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month in 1918, the First World War—the Great War—exacted a horrific toll on human life—more than any previous conflict. The carnage was so vast, involving soldiers and civilians from so many different nations, that historians cannot agree on exactly how many people lost their lives.

 A study conducted on behalf of the Carnegie Endowment estimated that more than 9.7 million military personnel from more than two dozen nations lost their lives. Adding to the tragedy, more than 6.8 million civilians died from war-related maladies such as starvation and disease. In all, about 16.5 million people perished during the “War to End All Wars.”

Great Britain and Ireland, with a combined population of 46.1 million, mobilized 6.1 million army and navy personnel. More than 750,000 military and 600,000 civilians—a total of 1.35 million—died.

After the conflict ended, the United States designated November 11^th, the day hostilities ceased in World War I, as Armistice Day. Later that special observance morphed into a more general celebration of those who have served in uniform—Veterans Day.

In Great Britain, November 11^th is referred to as Remembrance Day. And the Sunday nearest November 11^th is referred to as Remembrance Sunday. Originally a response to World War I, Remembrance Day and Remembrance Sunday now honor those who have fallen in battle in the defense of their nation—similar to Memorial Day in the U.S. Red paper poppies serve as a visual—and visceral—symbol of “remembrance” to the British.

Along with the cost in human life, the First World War decimated the landscape of Western Europe, which had seen bloody back-and-forth offensives and the murderous stalemate of trench warfare. Yet a singular sight gave one man hope. John McCrae, a military doctor from Canada, viewed the battlegrounds and penned a poem, In Flanders Fields:

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.

Based largely on the imagery of McCrae’s poem, efforts by various individuals resulted in the red poppy becoming an iconic emblem of Remembrance Day.

Remembrance Day and Remembrance Sunday bring with them parades, speeches, and sermons. But what was most remarkable to me were the rows and rows of red poppies attached to crosses, Stars of David, and other artifacts that were then placed in church yards and parks throughout the city. I remember the fields of honor at Westminster Abby the most. Many of the poppy-adorned artifacts contained pictures or other tributes to the fallen and were viewed in thoughtful, silent reverence by thousands. 

The photograph above gives a hint of the emotional impact of visiting this solemn place, where, to paraphrase, the poppies still blow “. . . Between the crosses, row on row.”