There was the determination of the World War Two veteran on sticks to attend. The emotion of the laying of the Falklands' Association wreath by the Rhuthun/Ruthin father of his fallen son. The proud wearing of medals. The youngster from Rhos Street school playing The Last Post—and his proud grandfather. The numbers of the public present this year, four or five times the usual.
Even the gulls observed the silence at 11a.m.
And there was also talk of reconciliation. This was the year—the first year—that the president of Germany laid a wreath at the Cenotaph in London, England. It was a year when the Irish laid aside the once huge controversy of Irishmen fighting alongside those from Britain in the First World War, also by laying wreath. Reconciliation, indeed.
Yet, in the light of these, is it not time that all our civic representatives feel it appropriate to commemorate the English as well as the Welsh national anthem? A careful study of town councillors and as far as I could see all but one—whether Welsh speaking or not—sang both. One refused to sing England's.
My father, who fought and was (superficially) wounded in the Second World War, served without consideration of national boundaries.
Even the gulls observed the silence at 11a.m.
Yet, in the light of these, is it not time that all our civic representatives feel it appropriate to commemorate the English as well as the Welsh national anthem? A careful study of town councillors and as far as I could see all but one—whether Welsh speaking or not—sang both. One refused to sing England's.
My father, who fought and was (superficially) wounded in the Second World War, served without consideration of national boundaries.