On the 11th day, of the 11th month, at the 11th hour.

We watched the Remembrance Day Parade in London on TV yesterday with Mam, either standing to attention singing the National Anthem, i.e. God Save the Queen, or waving her hankie and singing Rule Britannia, or saying a prayer with tears streaming down her face.

Bless her. It was very moving as always to watch those proud old men and women to whom we all owe so much and I couldn't see the TV picture for my own tears.

There are now only 3 men living in the UK who served in WW1 trenches; each of them over 100 years old now, and each of them there, proudly wearing their medals.

In TV interviews with these guys they all stated that, not only were they proud to have done it, but they had a very clear and strong reason for having gone to war in the first place, unlike our currently deployed troops who, in the main, haven't a clue why they are fighting in Afghanistan etc.

Am I awful for being very grateful that my adored son is not out there with them? I cried through the whole of his pass off parade, I was so proud of Jonathon that day.

This photo was taken not long after I had my stroke. I have come quite a long way since then. It was an emotional day for more reasons than one.He later told me that none of them had marched along with a band until that day and that as soon as the band struck up and they began to march all he could hear from the guys around him was the sound of sniffing, their emotions were so great. He's in the front row directly under the clock, NB: their commanding officer was a woman!! (I hope this picture will enlarge when you click on it.)

The other pic is with me & Mam and all still crying!
My Mother was too young to have been involved in WWII but she does remember seeing dogfights in the skies while she was going to school in Sunderland.

Giving thanks for all those who have, and all those who do, serve.