Today is the 11th of the 11th. The day back so many long years when the armistice was signed leading to the end of terrible war that started 100 years ago this year.
The YMCA played a significant role in providing services for the soldiers who fought in that war and we as a group thought we might visit the War Grave in Chennai to reflect on lives lost.
The Cemetery accommodates the graves of those who died in Madras/Chennai during WW11 and also has a memorial wall with the names carved into it of those who died in WW1 and are buried elsewhere accross India.
At 10.15am we set off for the Cemetery, Koshi, our guide for a fair bit of our time in Chennai, had purchased a wreath of white Indian flowers.We read a poem by Lawerance Binyon;
The grounds men and our driver had joined us. There was no one else around. We could hear the cacophany of noise that is present day Chennai, but some how for a few brief moments we only experienced silence. Those buried here are just young men from many British regiments and I hope this does not sound unusual, I had the distinct feeling I was doing this on behalf of the mothers whose sons lay here.
A few tears welled in my eyes as I reflected.
The YMCA played a significant role in providing services for the soldiers who fought in that war and we as a group thought we might visit the War Grave in Chennai to reflect on lives lost.
The Cemetery accommodates the graves of those who died in Madras/Chennai during WW11 and also has a memorial wall with the names carved into it of those who died in WW1 and are buried elsewhere accross India.
At 10.15am we set off for the Cemetery, Koshi, our guide for a fair bit of our time in Chennai, had purchased a wreath of white Indian flowers.We read a poem by Lawerance Binyon;
With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.
Solemn the drums thrill: Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres.
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres.
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.
They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England's foam.
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England's foam.
But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;
As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain,
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.
One of the group laid the wreath. We had a few moments silence.Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain,
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.
The grounds men and our driver had joined us. There was no one else around. We could hear the cacophany of noise that is present day Chennai, but some how for a few brief moments we only experienced silence. Those buried here are just young men from many British regiments and I hope this does not sound unusual, I had the distinct feeling I was doing this on behalf of the mothers whose sons lay here.
A few tears welled in my eyes as I reflected.
No comments:
Post a Comment