11.11.11.11
Nov. 11th, 2011 11:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
julesjonesThe eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month of the eleventh year. It seems somehow fitting that this is the first Armistice Day with no living link to the trenches of 1918. The last known combat veteran of the Great War died earlier this year, and now there are only our memories of those people who remembered being there.
Time will fade the memories, time will smooth away the scars it left in nations. But the Great War left its mark on all the nations caught up in that maelstrom, and a full lifetime of years later we are still coming to terms with its effects.
Two minutes of utter silence in the office today, the only sound the almost inaudible whisper of computer fans, bookended by the loud crack of the two signal rockets fired from the roof of the town hall. Silence across much of the city centre, as shops and offices observed the two minutes.
Two minutes to reflect on the price paid for war. The very, very high price. Sometimes it may be a price worth paying. It is never a price worth paying without reflecting on the cost, and those who bear it. Who bear it still, in newer wars, though the last of the living of the Great War have gone to join their dead comrades.
Lest we forget.
Time will fade the memories, time will smooth away the scars it left in nations. But the Great War left its mark on all the nations caught up in that maelstrom, and a full lifetime of years later we are still coming to terms with its effects.
Two minutes of utter silence in the office today, the only sound the almost inaudible whisper of computer fans, bookended by the loud crack of the two signal rockets fired from the roof of the town hall. Silence across much of the city centre, as shops and offices observed the two minutes.
Two minutes to reflect on the price paid for war. The very, very high price. Sometimes it may be a price worth paying. It is never a price worth paying without reflecting on the cost, and those who bear it. Who bear it still, in newer wars, though the last of the living of the Great War have gone to join their dead comrades.
Lest we forget.