An unexpected absence at the heart of the ceremony
‘Even now the thought stays with you that so many were killed, why did I survive?’
‘For any one of our generation today means an awful lot. We were the determined generation, determined to stand up and determined to defeat evil’
FOR decades she has been the figurehead of commemorations at the Cenotaph; the only living head of state to have served in the Second World War, who has presided over more Remembrance Sunday services than any other monarch.
But shortly before Big Ben struck 11 o’clock yesterday, it was instead the Queen’s first cousin, the Duke of Kent, who walked on to the Foreign Office balcony from where she has watched proceedings in recent years.
As he stepped out in her place, the Duke, dressed in a Field Marshal’s uniform, raised a white glove in crisp salute, perhaps in recognition of the unexpected absence at the heart of the ceremony.
Following the crack of a field gun of the King’s Troop Royal Horse Artillery and an immaculately observed twominute silence, the Prince of Wales led the tributes to the fallen.
As he has done since 2017, he first laid a wreath on behalf of the Queen before adding his own at the foot of Sir Edwin Lutyens’s famous memorial to the Glorious Dead. He was followed by the Duke of Cambridge, dressed in the uniform of an RAF Squadron Leader, the Princess Royal and the Earl of Wessex. An equerry laid a wreath on behalf of the Duke of Kent.
The Duke has his own personal connection to the Cenotaph. In 1942 his father, Prince George, an Air Commodore in the RAF, was killed on active service when a Sunderland Flying Boat aircraft he was travelling in crashed in northern Scotland. The Duke, who was six when his father was killed, later continued his military legacy, serving with the Royal Scots Greys.
The Duchess of Cambridge, wearing pearl earrings with four poppies pinned to her shoulder, watched from an adjoining balcony flanked by the Duchess of Cornwall and Sophie, Countess of Wessex.
The blow of the absent head of the Armed Forces (announced shortly before the ceremony because of a “strained back”) was softened by the sight of columns of veterans lining Whitehall to observe their most sacred day.
Last year, just 25 veterans were permitted to attend due to lockdown restrictions, but yesterday 10,000 took part in the march past, applauded by crowds several people deep.
As ever, the loudest claps were for those doughty survivors of the Second World War generation.
Normandy veteran Mervyn Kersh, 96, who served in the Royal Army Ordnance Corps during the D-day landings, said his generation felt a special bond with the Queen and their thoughts were with her during her convalescence.
“For any one of our generation today
means an awful lot,” he said. “We were the determined generation, determined to stand up and determined to defeat evil.”
Such determination was evident yesterday when Mr Kersh, who lives in north London and has marched at the Cenotaph for the past two decades, wanted to get out of his wheelchair to march past the Cenotaph on foot, although he says he was prevented from doing so by his minders as it “would disrupt the column”.
The Queen has previously missed the Cenotaph service four times because she has been overseas on tours – in 1961, 1968, 1983 and 1999 – and twice before the births of her two younger children.
Mr Kersh said he hoped to see her back at the Cenotaph next year. “If I am here next year then hopefully she will be as well,” he said.
Another Normandy veteran to take part yesterday was Len Hobbs, 97, an able seaman who served on the Huntclass destroyer HMS Fernie during the
D-day landings. He admitted he had not realised during the ceremony that the Queen had been forced to pull out and, like all the veterans present, sent his very best wishes. “She has been a very good Queen,” he said.
The number of Second World War veterans in attendance dwindles with each passing year. For a number of years, the oldest veteran to attend has been Ron Freer, 104. But following his death last year that honour has now passed to 98-yearold Tim Farmiloe, a warrant officer in Coastal Command who served on Sunderland Flying Boats in West Africa during the war, patrolling the coast for German U-boats.
Pushed in a wheelchair by his son, Farmiloe was marching as part of the Goldfish Club – a worldwide association of people who have escaped an aircraft by parachuting into water. Farmiloe was forced to ditch out of his Sunderland on two separate occasions during the war, but as he points out, also sank an enemy U-boat in 1944. Speaking after the ceremony he said it was the first time he had taken part in the Cenotaph service and admitted it could also be his last. “I found it very moving,” he said.
This year marks the 100th anniversary of the poppy being adopted as our national symbol of remembrance, when Earl Haig ordered nine million of the paper flowers to sell on Armistice Day in honour of the Great War dead.
And a golden thread links today’s veterans to those of a century ago. Among numerous significant dates, this year marked the 30th anniversary of the Gulf War and the 70th anniversary of the Battle of Imjin River in the Korean War, – the bloodiest engagement the British Army had fought in since the Second World War.
Brian Hamblett, 90, fought at Imjin River as a private with the Gloucestershire Regiment and was subsequently captured, spending three years as a prisoner of war in Korea.
“It is an honour to be back here and remembering all the lost comrades and all the ones we have lost since,” Hamblett said. “But even now the thought stays with you that so many were killed out there, why did I survive?”
Following the recent withdrawal of all Allied forces from Afghanistan and the growing humanitarian crisis in the country, this year the sacrifice of those who served there felt particularly poignant.
Among the military uniforms on parade were also the black and yellow scarves of the charity Scotty’s Little Soldiers, established by war widow Nikki Scott in memory of Corporal Lee Scott of the 2nd Royal Tank Regiment who was killed in Helmand in 2009.
He left behind two children and yesterday his daughter Brooke, 12, took part in the march past wearing the scarf in her father’s regimental colours.
Also among the 45 Scotty’s Little Soldiers on parade were eight-year-olds Evie Hebden and Jacob Stokoe whose fathers were killed in 2013 and 2019.
During the ceremony one old soldier came up and gave Jacob his beret, which he was wearing long after the official commemorations had finished. This is the mantle of remembrance, passed from one generation to the next.