Remembrance - Honouring the Dead

Monday, November 11^th, is Remembrance Day and Veterans Day.

For some, this is just another day they might get off work. They’ll carry on as usual, ignorant or uncaring of the reasons for this day or why so many people are wearing red poppies.

Thankfully, many people still do remember that Novebmer 11^th is a day for remembering those men and women who have died in the line of duty. You may not agree with the motives for some of these wars, you may support them vehemently. Whatever your opinion of the battles, this is a time to honour the courage of the soldier on the ground, the warriors past and present.

This year, I’d like to share an excerpt from Homer’s Odyssey. Below is a moving description of the funeral of Achilles, the Greek warrior who has inspired soldiers and others for thousands of years. Here, in the meadow of asphodel, the 'dwelling-place of souls', Agamemnon meets Achilles and tells the hero of his funeral in the land of Troy:

“Happy son of Peleus, Achilles like the gods,” answered the ghost of Agamemnon, “for having died at Troy far from Argos, while the best of the Trojans and the Achaeans fell around you fighting for your body. There you lay in the whirling clouds of dust, all huge and hugely, heedless now of your horsemanship. We fought the whole of the livelong day, nor should we ever have left off if Zeus tore their hair and wept bitterly round about you. Your mother, when she heard, came with her immortal nymphs from out of the sea, and the sound of heavenly wailing went forth over the waters so that the Achaeans old Nestor whose counsel was ever truest checked them saying, `Hold, Argives, flee not, sons of the Achaeans, this is his mother coming from the sea with her immortal nymphs to view the body of her son.' Thus he spoke, and the Achaeans feared no more. The daughters of the old man of the sea stood round you weeping bitterly, and clothed you in immortal raiment. The nine muses also came and lifted up their sweet voices in lament—calling and answering one another; there was not an Argive but wept for pity of the dirge they chanted. Days and nights seven and ten we mourned you, mortals and immortals, but on the eighteenth day we gave you to the flames, and many a fat sheep with many an ox did we slay in sacrifice around you. You were burnt in raiment of the gods, with rich resins and with honey, while Achaean heroes, horse and foot, clashed their armor round the pile as you were burning, with the tramp as of a great multitude. But when the flames of heaven had done their work, we gathered your white bones at daybreak and laid them in ointments and in pure wine. Your mother brought us a golden amphora to hold them—gift of Dionysos, and work of Hephaistos himself; in this we mingled your bleached bones with those of Patroklos, who had been closer to you than any other of your comrades now that Patroklos was no more. Over their bodies we the sacred army of Argive spearmen piled up a huge and perfect tomb, on a jutting headland, by the wide Hellespont, so that it may be bright from afar for men coming from the sea, both those who are now and those who will be in the future. Your mother begged prizes from the gods, and offered them to be contended for by the noblest of the Achaeans. You must have been present at the funeral of many a hero, when the young men gird themselves and make ready to contend for prizes on the death of some great chieftain, but you never saw such prizes as silver-footed Thetis offered in your honor; for the gods loved you well. Thus even in death your kleos, Achilles, has not been lost, and your name lives evermore among all humankind.” (Homer; Odyssey. Book 24. lines 35–95)

 

Troy - Kesik Tepe, Turkey - possible Tumulus of Achilles where
Alexander the Great made sacrifices to the heroes of the Trojan War

This passage never fails to move me, for it honours one of the greatest heroes of the ancient world in such a beautiful way. Today, Achilles may seem outrageous and brutal, selfish. But to ancient eyes, he was what every warrior aspired to. For thousands of years afterward, the ghost of Achilles’ exploits followed men into battle at home, and on foreign fields.

Achilles is buried with his brother-in-arms, Patroklos, in a tumulus overlooking the sea, far away from their home in Greece.

So too are buried hundreds of thousands of soldiers who fought in the horrible wars of our modern era. They lie in orderly rows, also overlooking the sea, where they were buried by their brothers and sisters in war.

Never mind the political machinations of the past and present. Those who have lost, and fought, and suffered, and died, are no less deserving of our remembrance than the heroes of that long ago war beneath high-walled Troy.

I remember you all and thank you for your sacrifices. Wherever you may now be, I hope my thanks, and the smoke from my offerings will reach you there.

Remembrance Day

The 11^th of November is upon us once more and red poppies are bursting out from black coats as they move about on autumn sidewalks. On Remembrance Day (formerly Armistice Day) not everyone will be wearing a poppy, of course, but many will. This is a time of year when we pay tribute to warriors, past and present, their families and all the other men and women behind the scenes, at home and on foreign fields.

For many however, the idea of war seems remote, a thing of the past, of history. “It’s something that happens far away.” But let me tell you, war is not relegated to the ancient world, to the battle fields of Thermopylae, Salamis or Gaugamela. Mars has left his bloody mark on every stage of human history to our present day and, as a result, sacrifice, pain and loss have resonated across time. One cannot always agree with the motives for war but, unless we learn from the past, the bloody cycle of battle will continue to repeat itself.

Millions of men, women and children have laid down their lives over the ages, as combatants or victims.

We would do well to remember them.

I was young when my grandparents passed away and so, did not have a chance to ask about what it was like fighting alongside General Allenby or T.E. Lawrence. I would have liked to know what it was like at sea on a merchant navy ship with German U-boats haunting the depths or how Greek resistance fighters kept faith in the mountains of a land I have only ever known as a sunny holiday destination.

This week I have been reading to my own kids about Remembrance Day and the World Wars. Kids can be quite astute, resilient I find, when it comes to horrible things. But there are also lessons to be learned that can be found not just in fiction. Lessons about honour, courage and sacrifice, beliefs, right and wrong. We read the poem In Flanders Fields and they knew is wasn’t all about flowers. The poem reminds us about sacrifice, that there is beauty in the world, things worth fighting for, be it freedom, goodness or something as simple as a field of red flowers.

This day, of all days, forget about politicians and politics. Instead remember the troops and support personnel, past and present, their families, their lovers, all of them. They are not the ones who decided that war should be waged and that they should be sent to die on foreign soil.

Think of those poor people in war-torn regions who, as I write this, hunker down in a corner of their home, hoping that the next bomb blast does not destroy all they know and love. It is easy to be complacent sitting in our safe homes or behind our desk in a boring office. ‘Lest we forget’ is very relevant today.

So, wear your poppy with memory and gratitude this day, this month. Thank the veteran who is standing by the subway entrance selling little red flowers, for though they may not appear so, they have likely been to hell and back all so that we can walk safely down a quiet sidewalk.

To all of you, from the distant past to the present, Thank You. I remember and I shall not forget.