This Remembrance weekend marks the Centenary of Armistice. The day when the guns finally fell silent in what became known as The Great War.
In this modern age, with all the tools we have for communicating directly with one another, you would like to think that the possibility of such a conflict ever recurring is remote. I hope so.
Today’s photograph was taken in 2016, when I worked with Yorkshire Air Museum and travelled to Thievpal to be there on the Centenary of the start of The Battle of The Somme.
I learned an awful lot on that trip. A lot about myself, about history and about how we are all actually the same.
I recall watching the ceremony standing alongside a French Special Forces soldier. Dressed head to foot in black, carrying his Glock semi automatic, pistol in holster, a damn big knife on the opposite hip, we were both standing back inside the tree line as we watched the ceremony.
Like me, he kept getting pieces of grit in his eye.
As a deluge of poppies and French Bluet fell from the sky at the end, we both stepped forwards and collected some from the ground, tucking them away into our wallets.
He gave a nod, then turned back into the tree line, disappearing as he returned to his duty of protecting the French President who was amongst the VIP guests.
A memorable day.
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