Sophie’s tears as we honour our war dead
THE majesty of the moment never loses its power, whether you’re a tough-as-old-boots ex-soldier, a face in the crowd or a member of the Royal Family. The Countess of Wessex was among many who found themselves moved to tears yesterday as the Queen led the nation in commemoration at the Cenotaph.
While communities came to a respectful standstill for Remembrance Sunday services up and down the country, there were, for once, grounds for celebration, too.
For there, tucked away in the official Ministry of Defence bulletin for the occasion, was the annual list of UK Armed Forces operational fatalities (deaths on operations, from injuries on operations or from terrorism) since Remembrance Sunday last year. Total: 0.
That has happened only once before since the end of the Second World War – in 1968. Many people will forever associate 2016 with tumultuous geo-political upheavals but, if this statistic remains the same until the end of December, this should also go down as a blessed year for our Armed Forces.
Whitehall was looking magnificent in the morning sun which was beaming straight into the Queen’s face as she faced the Cenotaph in Whitehall. It recently emerged that her poppy wreath had been made a little lighter for this year’s event, a tiny adjustment in honour of her 90th birthday this April.
Yet the real challenge has never been the weight of the wreath. It is walking backwards down steps in front of millions of onlookers. Successive Lord Chancellors used to face the same problem at the State Opening of Parliament when they were expected to reverse from the Throne without turning their back on the Sovereign. In recent years, however, that tradition has been abandoned and the Lord Chancellor now turns round rather than risk a tumble. Regardless, the Queen steadfastly refuses to turn her back on the Cenotaph.
All the senior members of the Royal Family were present. The Duke of Edinburgh followed the Queen with his wreath (and permitted himself a brief about-turn, though, at 95 and wearing a sword, no one was going to object). Looking on from a Foreign Office balcony were the Duchess of Cornwall, the Duchess of Cambridge and the Countess of Wessex.
On the next-door balcony a group of political spouses included Philip May, alongside Dame Norma Major and Boris Johnson’s wife, Marina. Down below, Prime Minister Theresa May led the political and diplomatic wreath-layers for the first time. Her predecessor, David Cameron, was relegated to the second row with former PMs Tony Blair and Sir John Major (Gordon Brown being elsewhere).
Mrs May was followed by Jeremy Corbyn. Unlike last year, when the Labour leader’s barely discernible nod of the head became a heated national talking point, he made a perfectly respectful bow after laying his wreath. It should also be noted that he sang the National Anthem, just as he did the previous evening at the Royal British Legion’s stirring Festival of Remembrance at the Royal Albert Hall where he stayed on to meet veterans at the postshow reception. Mr Corbyn has wisely worked out that there really is no point giving his critics ammunition at the most sacred moments in the national calendar.
There had been several intensely moving moments during Saturday night’s event, including a short film of Sea Cadet Beth Molyneux, 11, writing a poem in honour of her late father Lt Cdr Ian Molyneux GM who was shot dead in his submarine in 2011. Whereupon she entered the hall with her brothers to recite it.
There were so many equally poignant scenes during yesterday’s Royal British Legion parade down Whitehall. More than 8,500 marchers had come from afar; former Royal Navy Wren Carol Asam had flown from West Virginia.
BBC viewers may have seen Emma Fisher, widow of Warrant Officer Ian Fisher, killed in action in 2013, talking about raising two young boys without him. And there she was yesterday, marching proudly with the Staffordshire Regiment.
A few yards in front of her, leading the Cheshire Regiment contingent, was one of yesterday’s oldest participants, Jimmy Gallimore, 98.
During the retreat to Dunkirk in 1940, several of his pals were executed by the SS in the notorious Wormhoudt Massacre while Jimmy was
The Queen refuses to turn her back on the Cenotaph
taken prisoner. He endured nearstarvation in a prisoner-of-war camp in Poland and escaped twice. The second bid succeeded after he was taken in by a brave Polish family.
This has been a year of big anniversaries, not least the 100th of the Battles of the Somme and Jutland. The latter is perhaps bestremembered for the heroism of 16year-old Jack Cornwell, awarded a posthumous VC. Yesterday his great-great-nephew Able Seaman Alex Saridis was part of the Royal Navy’s marching contingent.
But many had other dates on their minds. Veterans of the Army Catering Corps had come to honour the 75th anniversary of their indispensable unit (motto: ‘We Sustain’) and all who had died in its service. I also spoke to Arnold Jeacock, 60, a former Able Seaman in the Royal Naval Reserve, who was marching in honour of his fellow crew members in HMS Fittleton.
It’s 40 years since the minesweeper collided with the frigate HMS Mermaid during a Nato North Sea exercise with the loss of 12 crew. Mr Jeacock, who couldn’t swim and wasn’t wearing a lifejacket, narrowly escaped while his friend, Ian Hewison, did not.
‘I always think of him and the fact he should have survived because he had a young family and I didn’t,’ said Mr Jeacock, who lost a leg in a traffic accident six months later.
‘It does mean I’m sometimes a little out of step. But I’ve been coming here for the past 20 years. If you’re going to march for your mates, the Cenotaph’s the place to do it.’