Remembrance Day is always an odd, conflicted time for me — as a confirmed pacifist who considers almost all wars stupid and wasteful, and also a confirmed softie who cries at “In Flanders Fields” and a variety of war-related triggers.
This makes me cry too. Nothing sums up the stupidity and tragedy of war better:
If you’ve seen Blackadder, you’ll remember how six episodes of ridiculous slapstick farce in the World War One trenches (highlighted, for me, by a very young and fresh-faced Hugh Laurie) suddenly faded to that very poignant ending. If not … well, we’ll leave it at that. Remembering is complicated, but for me it’s always coloured by the certainty that war is not glorious and heroic, even though the men and women who fight and die often are heroic — as well as frightened, confused, even angry. I try to remember and honour them while holding to the hope that we can work to prevent more such deaths.