Remembering

We held the annual ceremony of remembrance on Sunday. The ceremony was led by a selection of local religious figures from the Christian and Jewish faiths. And Ambassadors from many countries, together with Tamas Vargha Parliamentary State Secretary of the Hungarian Ministry of Defence, came to lay wreaths.

It was a moving and a memorable morning as the sun shone down on the Solymar cemetery. The 2 minute silence was particularly touching. A single trumpeter sounded The Last Post to start it and the Reveille to end it. The police were even good enough to stop the traffic on the road which goes past the cemetery for those 2 minutes. All you could hear was birdsong and the breeze.

It was also really good to share the morning with people from the local community who wanted with us to remember those who had fallen in the defence of our countries and of our values. Many came to the event from many nations; young and old. Parents explaining to their children the meaning of the poppies we wear and going with them between the graves, looking at the names and ages of those we remember. Passing on tradition and family lore.

The whole morning was a great chance to renew friendships and make some new ones. I don’t get enough chances to just have a chat with members of the British community. And, like at the Guy Fawkes party I went to last week, I enjoyed chewing the fat with fellow Brits.

But, of course, the real point of the morning was to remember the fallen. Those to whom we owe so much. And those who, without these sorts of ceremonies, it is all too easy to forget in our rushed, full modern lives. We owe it to them to offer our thanks regularly. And to remember the tragedy of war. Lest we forget.