For the first time, the old foe Germany joined Her Majesty at our most sacred event
AT THE going down of the sun, Britain’s greatest commemorative endeavour of modern times finally drew to a close. Four years of centennial remembrance for the dead of the First World War concluded last night as the Queen and the German president attended a service of thanksgiving and reflection at Westminster Abbey.
Similar sentiments were echoed at concerts, vigils and events in every part of Britain, following traditional Remembrance Sunday services attended by exceptional crowds.
The fact that the centenary of the Armistice should fall precisely on the second Sunday in November, the traditional date for remembering our fallen, gave added impetus and poignancy to this immense anniversary.
And nowhere was that more apparent than at the Cenotaph. Big Ben – silent all year during essential maintenance work – emerged from enforced hibernation to toll the 11th hour.
For the first time in history, the old foe was in pride of place at the most sacred event in our national calendar. Frank-Walter Steinmeier, the German head of state, stood in the midst of the Royal Family and laid the first wreath after that of the Queen. He bowed deeply as he did so.
The sense of an historic line being drawn under an epochal chapter in our mutual past was palpable. ‘ Hopeful for a future in peace and friendship,’ he wrote (in English) on the card attached to his wreath.
The Queen’s wreath had been laid by the Prince of Wales. As she did last year, the Monarch elected to watch the service from a Foreign & Commonwealth Office balcony, this time flanked by the Duchess of Cornwall and the Duchess of Cambridge.
The Duchess of Sussex, attending her first Cenotaph parade, stood on an adjacent balcony with Mr Steinmeier’s wife, Elke, 56, a judge.
As the daughter of a First World War veteran and the only head of state in the world today who served in uniform during the Second, the Queen’s authority was undiminished by her absence from the parade. In her tenth decade, she simply felt that it was tempting fate to be negotiating the Cenotaph steps unaided on such a crucial occasion. Besides, it was easier to see her on her balcony. For the first time, the Duke of Edinburgh was not at her side. Palace officials said the 97-year- old Duke had never been expected to attend and that there were no grounds for concern. His wreath was laid by his equerry, ahead of those of other members of the Royal Family.
Next came the party leaders, starting with the Prime Minister in a long dark overcoat. The Opposition leader, Jeremy Corbyn, was in a dark blue anorak, inviting inevitable comparisons with the infamous ‘donkey jacket’ worn by former Labour leader Michael Foot many years ago.
Unlike previous occasions, however, there could be no quibbling over the fact that Mr Corbyn performed a respectful bow to the fallen and was clearly seen to be singing the National Anthem.
Following the short service by the Bishop of London, the Rt Rev Dame Sarah Mullally, (the first time a woman had presided at the Cenotaph), the path was cleared for the eternally moving Royal British Legion parade.
Around 10,000 representatives of nearly 200 organisations, from the Army Widows’ Association and the Royal Marines to the Black Watch and the Blenheim Society, came marching down Whitehall, more or less in time to all the old favourites – Pack Up Your Troubles, It’s A Long Way To Tipperary and the rest. Among the oldest on parade was Donald Smith, 98, formerly of the Seaforth Highlanders, who was seriously wounded and taken prisoner outside Dunkirk in 1940. ‘I don’t like to cry, but this event always brings tears to my eyes,’ he said. ‘I was one of five friends who joined up and I was the only one who came back.’ Every conflict was being remembered yesterday. Michael Bye, 83, had flown in from Canada, as he does every year, to march with his old chums in the Suez Veterans’ Association. ‘I always think of two men from the Royal Signals who were sent out one day and were never seen again,’ he explained. The fallen of Korea, the Falklands, both Gulf Wars, Northern Ireland and Afghanistan were all being honoured by old comrades.
On parade for the very first time were representatives of the Wom-
‘Privileged to be here’
en’s Institute. Considering that this is an organisation with more than 200,000 members which was born out of the pressing need to feed a hungry nation in the First World War – and was an invaluable part of the Home Front in the Second – it seems odd that it had to wait until yesterday to be included. But there were no complaints. ‘We’re just very privileged to be here on such an emotional day,’ said Lynne Stubbings, chair of the National Federation, proudly carrying the WI wreath.
Compounding all that emotion was the fact that this year, for the first time, more than 10,000 members of the public had been chosen by ballot to take part in a further centenary parade past the Cenotaph. It had been described variously as ‘a national thank-you’ and ‘the people’s parade’ and consisted of people of all ages and backgrounds bearing floral tributes of all complexions (some of them knitted). Despite some exemplary marching music from several bands, led by Christ’s Hospital school, this was more of a leisurely stroll than a march. Some proudly held up photos of their fallen kinsmen. Many wore the medals which a great-grandfather or great-great-uncle had never lived to wear.
It all added an endearing note of informality to a day rich in grand ceremonial – and all in marked contrast to events in Paris. There, President Macron’s week- long appropriation of this centenary for contemporary political ends continued. After much gladhanding of world leaders and energetic striding around in front of the television cameras at the Arc de Triomphe, he delivered a speech on the perils of nationalism.
In London, we had to wait until last night before hearing a word from our national representatives.
As the Tower of London’s commemorative torches blazed for the last time, Westminster Abbey was packed for the service of reflection and reconciliation. The Queen and President Steinmeier began by placing wreaths on the Grave of the Unknown Warrior.
Finally, lessons from the Book of John were read by the president and the Prince of Wales. ‘Beloved, let us love one another,’ said the president, speaking in German. ‘Greater love hath no man than this,’ said the Prince, ‘that a man lay down his life for his friends.’
Children laid further flowers on the Grave of the Unknown Warrior. His actions and his sacrifice are now more distant from us than the Battle of Waterloo was from his own generation. But their heroics have no sell-by date. As the inscription in our war cemeteries declares: ‘Their name liveth for evermore.’ And so it shall.
‘I don’t like to cry, but this event always brings tears to my eyes’
Former Seaforth Highlander Donald Smith, 98