Yesterday morning at 11am there was another beautiful Remembrance Service in Newham.
On Sunday I went to All Saints Church in my Council ward West Ham.
On Armistice Day itself I went to show my respect with many others at the Cenotaph in Central Park, East Ham.
It was very well attended and crowds of mostly school children completely encircled the Cenotaph.
East Ham MP Stephen Timms and the Mayor laid wreaths as did many local organisations and schools. Local children gave some fantastic readings and moving poetry recitals.
St. Antony's School recounting of "In Flanders Field" by John McCrae, was particularly poignant and I am sure that I was not the only one with something in my eye by the end.
On Sunday I went to All Saints Church in my Council ward West Ham.
On Armistice Day itself I went to show my respect with many others at the Cenotaph in Central Park, East Ham.
It was very well attended and crowds of mostly school children completely encircled the Cenotaph.
East Ham MP Stephen Timms and the Mayor laid wreaths as did many local organisations and schools. Local children gave some fantastic readings and moving poetry recitals.
St. Antony's School recounting of "In Flanders Field" by John McCrae, was particularly poignant and I am sure that I was not the only one with something in my eye by the end.
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
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