Found this on a site that I frequent and thought it appropriate to post here on this day of Remembrance.

ITS CHRISTMAS DAY ALL IS SECURE

TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS
HE LIVED ALL ALONE
IN A ONE BEDROOM HOUSE MADE OF PLASTER AND STONE
I HAD COME DOWN THE CHIMNEY WITH PRESENTS TO GIVE
AND TO SEE JUST WHO IN THIS HOME DID LIVE

I LOOKED ALL ABOUT A STRANGE SIGHT I DID SEE
NO TINSEL NO PRESENTS NOT EVEN A TREE
NO STOCKING BY THE MANTLE JUST BOOTS FILLED WITH SAND
ON THE WALL HUNG PICTURES OF FAR DISTANT LANDS
WITH MEDALS AND BADGES AWARDS OF ALL KINDS
A SOBER THOUGHT CAME THROUGH MY MIND

FOR THIS HOUSE WAS DIFFERENT IT WAS DARK AND DREARY
I FOUND THE HOME OF A SOLDIER ONCE I COULD SEE CLEARLY
THE SOLDIER LAY SLEEPING SILENT ALONE
CURLED UP ON THE FLOOR IN THIS ONE BEDROOM HOME

THE FACE WAS SO GENTLE THE ROOM IN SUCH DISORDER
NOT HOW I PICTURED A LONE BRITISH SOLDIER
WAS THIS THE HERO OF WHOM I'D JUST READ
CURLED UP ON A PONCHO THE FLOOR FOR A BED

I REALISED THE FAMILIES THAT I SAW THIS NIGHT
OWED THEIR LIVES TO THESE SOLDIERS WHO WERE WILLING TO FIGHT
SOON ROUND THE WORLD THE CHILDREN WOULD PLAY
AND GROWNUPS WOULD CELEBRATE A BRIGHT CHRISTMAS DAY

THEY ALL ENJOY FREEDOM EACH MONTH OF THE YEAR
BECAUSE OF THE SOLDIERS LIKE THE ONE LYING HERE
I COULDN'T HELP WONDER HOW MANY ALONE
ON A COLD CHRISTMAS EVE IN A LAND FAR FROM HOME

THE VERY THOUGH BROUGHT A TEAR TO MY EYE
I DROPPED TO MY KNEES AND STARTED TO CRY
THE SOLDIER AWAKENED AND I HEARD A ROUGH VOICE
'SANTA DON'T CRY THIS LIFE IS MY CHOICE
I FIGHT FOR FREEDOM I DON'T ASK FOR MORE
MY LIFE IS MY GOD, MY COUNTRY. MY CORPS'

THE SOLDIER ROLLED OVER AND DRIFTED TO SLEEP
I COULDN'T CONTROL IT I CONTINUED TO WEEP

I KEPT WATCH FOR HOURS SO SILENT AND STILL
AND WE BOTH SAT AND SHIVERED FROM THE COLD NIGHTS CHILL
I DIDN'T WANT TO LEAVE ON THAT COLD DARK NIGHT
THIS GUARDIAN OF HONOUR SO WILLING TO FIGHT

THEN THE SOLDIER ROLLED OVER WITH A VOICE SOFT AND PURE
WHISPERED 'CARRY ON SANTA ITS CHRISTMAS DAY ALL IS SECURE'
ONE LOOK AT MY WATCH AND I KNEW HE WAS RIGHT
'MERRY CHRISTMAS MY FRIEND AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT'

THIS POEM WAS WRITTEN BY A PEACE KEEPING SOLDIER STATIONED OVERSEAS
THE FOLLOWING IS HIS REQUEST I THINK IT IS REASONABLE.

CHRISTMAS WILL BE COMING SOON AND SOME CREDIT IS DUE TO OUR BRITISH SERVICE MEN AND WOMEN FOR OUR BEING ABLE TO CELEBRATE THESE FESTIVITIES.
LETS TRY IN THIS SMALL WAY TO PAY A TINY BIT BACK OF WHAT WE OWE!

Following on from Sub's post here this arrived in my inbox, so thought I would share as a follow up

Remembrance Sunday has always been a strong tradition of going to church, coming home to watch the parade at the cenotaph, and joining in with the two minute Silence as I was growing up. Although I instil a sense of the importance of remembering the people who died for us in the first and second world war into my children I have to admit that the 'tradition' of my youth has somewhat fallen by the wayside. I do however, have the telly on in the background to listen/watch the parade on this day.

My maternal Grandfather was in the Navy during the second world war, based at Gibraltar for the best part of it. I can still remember the tattoo he had on his arm that he had done while he was in the navy. He never ever talked about the war, so I never did find out if he saw any 'action', it was frowned upon to speak of what happened though I do know he lost a few friends.

My paternal Grandfather I never knew. He died during WWII, coming home on leave he collapsed and died. He was in the Welsh Guards and I know he is buried in his hometown of Pontypridd somewhere, though one day I will find out and visit his grave. His son, my father, was three years old when this happened, so grew up without his father's influence, though he did have a lot of input from his own grandfather and uncle.

And yet what have we learnt from all this? I fear nothing. man just cannot live together without fighting. Wars continue, countries are fought over and many, many lives are lost as a result. World peace would be lovely unfortunately it will never happen as too many want to destroy what little we do have to enjoy.

My heart, thoughts and prayers go out to the many who have lost loved ones through Afghanistan, Iraq etc, to the ones who's loved ones are still fighting, to those that children that will grow up without family.

I will wear my poppy in remembrance on this reflective day.

In Flanders Fields

by John McCrae, May 1915

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.

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.

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.

We Shall Keep the Faith

by Moina Michael, November 1918

Oh! you who sleep in Flanders Fields,
Sleep sweet - to rise anew!
We caught the torch you threw
And holding high, we keep the Faith
With All who died.

We cherish, too, the poppy red
That grows on fields where valor led;
It seems to signal to the skies
That blood of heroes never dies,
But lends a lustre to the red
Of the flower that blooms above the dead
In Flanders Fields.

And now the Torch and Poppy Red
We wear in honor of our dead.
Fear not that ye have died for naught;
We'll teach the lesson that ye wrought
In Flanders Fields.