Lest We Forget...

I'm an Army brat. I wonder if that can still be applied to me at this tender age of forty-something. The brat part possibly. My fine, upstanding father served in the British Army for well over 20 years. This morning of all mornings my teeny genetic connection to the Army is thrown into high relief and I join everyone else on Remembrance Sunday to do just that - remember and honour. It's not just my background that makes me do it, the upbringing certainly, and a real sense of pride in my nationality, which has crept up on me as I've aged. You learn about the role of the Armed Forces through history lessons and stories told. I live very near and work in a large Garrison town, my life is affected by the comings and goings of soldiers and their families. And because of my horrormones probably, I'm deeply affected by the respect and ceremony that surrounds our Act of Remembrance today. Now I'm a mother, I have to say that I'm more affected by the potential of war, horror and loss. During the Falklands Campaign I was a teenager and felt sympathy and political frustration. Nowadays I feel empathy and fear and political frustration. So today, take a mo, and think on - it doesn't matter if your politics match, what matters is that there are still good men and women being lost, as there have been in previous generations. If you serve, I salute you.