Armistice Day

 They gave their lives

Some people remember the end of World War 1 at the 11th hour, of the 11th day of the 11th month with a minutes silence; others remember those who gave their lives each day - I am one.

I wrote this short story as a remembrance of the grandfather I never knew; we moved south before I had the opportunity to get to know him.

My life is a testament to the strength of British steel over a German bayonet; my grandfather was bayonetted in the trenches, but lived because the bayonet broke, to his dying day he bore the hole in his head were the blade hit but never penetrated.

I took the title from the two composers who typified the outlook of the period. In Elgar's time the view was the British Empire would push the hun back to Germany in no time, and then our men would come home safe.

In four dreadful years, the view was that we'd been lucky to come back, a time depicted beautifully, if sadly by the tune The Lark Ascending by  Vaughan Williams. 

In those years, lives changed forever, most of the landed gentry had been killed and the country industries became more used as houses couldn't keep the servants.

Though I didn't serve during the two world wars, I do bear a lasting reminder of my days in the Royal Air Force; I am disabled through an injury I got serving. My children look on me as a hero because I was awarded the General Service Medal for serving in Northern Ireland during The Troubles. I do not consider myself worthy of the medal as our station was more than 10 miles from the front line of the conflict.