Please take the time to read it all?
The British Legion Celebration Of Allegiance
The British Remembrance Day is always held on the 11 November. This is the day that World War One ended in 1918 and on the eleventh hour, of the eleventh day, of the eleventh month, the fighting stopped. To commemorate this, there is a two minute silence in the UK at 11am, every 11th November. As well as the two-minute silence, The Royal Family, along with leading politicians, gather on the second Sunday of November, at the Cenotaph, a large war memorial in Whitehall, London.
Services are held to honour those who died in conflict. Wreaths are laid on memorials which have a place in every town. The two-minute silence is usually preceded and followed by a lone bugler playing The Last Post. A poem called 'For the Fallen' is also often read aloud on the occasion.
Lest We Forget…
Jack strode briskly down from his office, catching the attention of his whole team, who paused in what they were doing. Brandishing a box of poppies, he called them all round. "Everyone, Poppies!" Gwen reached for one followed by Tosh and reluctantly, Owen. Ianto already had one pinned to his lapel. It created a strong contrast on the solid black and the red suited his pale features. "We've got a whole box here, so losing yours on a weevil hunt is no reason not to be wearing one."
In his other hand, Jack held five pristine envelopes. Gwen frowned when she received hers, they had been paid a fortnight before, so it couldn't be their pay slips. She wandered what this was, glancing up, to see Jack watching them all seriously. She flipped the thick envelope over in her hands and gasped at the official Royal seal. "What's this, Jack?" she asked, opening it carefully.
"Courtesy of the Queen." He paused, "Rift permitting, we will all be attending the Remembrance Day Parade at the Royal Albert Hall. The royal box, on Saturday the seventh of November." He met each of their gazes, with a stern one of his own. "There is no excuse for not being there. Family is welcome to join you after the official ceremony." And with that, Jack turned on his heel and strode up to the Tourist office, Ianto hesitating, collecting the Captain's greatcoat, before following silently in his wake.
"Are you okay, Jack?" Ianto asked quietly. The Captain had placed the poppies on the desk in the information centre and was standing facing the door, looking into the middle distance.
"I will be." He said quietly, allowing the support Ianto offered in the form of a hand on his shoulder.
"Come on, let's take a walk." He helped Jack to slip into his greatcoat before they exited together.
The two of them took the afternoon off, walking the bay and following the River Taff, past the Millenuim Stadium, right up into Bute Park. From there Ianto led the way across Cathays Park and the two of them stood at the memorial there, Ianto handing Jack a spare poppy, which he tossed at the foot of the majestic archway there. He stared at the red flower a long time, seeing more than the red card cutout. He had seen and experienced so much, never stopping long enough to think about the consequences. Remembrance Day was the one occasion he could pause and just Remember...
-T-
The Torchwood team entered the back row of the Royal box just after the chorus of 'God Save The Queen', conveniently avoiding the cameras focussed on the Queen. A troupe of Hoix had come through the Rift at the last minute and delayed their departure, which had been arranged by helicopter. But they were there now and that's all that mattered. Jack was dressed in his full RAF uniform, even carrying his cap.
During the rousing thralls of 'Coming Home', sung by The Soldiers, a single tear rolled down Jack's cheek. Ianto gripped his hand tightly. Gwen too was in tears, comforted by Tosh. Owen stood stoically at their side, with a sombre expression. During the parade of the Services, Jack slipped away from his team and, placing his cap low over his eyes joined in the back of the RAF's parade. He remained silent and kept his head down, managing not to be noticed or recognised by his fellow servicemen.
Jack stood at the back of the final parade, watching the events. He had managed to control his emotions and remained stoic throughout the service, until the lights dropped. Then he slipped away, back to his place in the Royal box, a handful of the red 'petals' that had fallen from the ceiling during the two minute silence in his pocket, Ianto the only member of the team who had noticed his absence, but not questioning it.
After the ceremony, the entire team, accompanied by Rhys, was introduced formally to the Queen, who spoke to them each briefly, before they were released and could return to Cardiff and their own beds, exhausted by the long day.
The next morning the team arrived to an empty Hub. Jack was nowhere to be found. Ianto assured the team their Captain would be back later that morning, before leaving himself at ten o'clock. He made it just in time to join his boss for the National Remembrance Service in Cathays Park, stopping some distance from the cenotaph they had stood directly beneath a week before.
Ianto joined Jack behind the British Legion standard bearers and ex-servicemen. From this distance it was impossible to read the inscription beneath the obelisk, but Ianto still remembered it.
"Dros for fe droes I farw."
Jack glanced across, acknowledging Ianto before translating the words quietly for himself, "He went overseas to die. They all did..." His voice was barely a whisper and faded away as memories surfaced.
A bugler sounded The Last Post, beginning the two minute silence and both men stood, lost in quiet contemplation. This was followed by the laying of the wreaths. Ianto squeezed Jack's hand before presenting him with a wreath and encouraging him forward. Jack smiled softly, thinking of the hundreds of lives he'd witnessed being lost; taking the wreath, on which the poem For the Fallen was inscribed, and slow marching to the foot of the memorial where he laid his wreath beside the many others. He stepped back, brought his heels to attention, and saluted. He stood there, a tall, lone figure in front of the memorial, his coat catching the icy chill, whipping out behind him and creating a poignant portrait, before turning smartly on his heel, Jack moved off.
After the multicultural service, Jack and Ianto followed in the wake of the parade past and salute at the front of city hall. The Lord Lieutenant of South Glamorgan, Captain Norman Lloyd-Edwards led the salute, before officially dismissing the parade.
-T-
In the early hours of the next morning, Jack found a piece of paper on his desk, which Ianto had inscribed an extract from another poem, O Captain! My Captain! He knew the poem well, but upon reading this particular passage Jack found a fresh meaning to it, giving him the courage and purpose to carry on. Something that laying in Ianto's arms the night before, had been an uncertainty for the immortal Captain.
"O Captain! My Captain! Rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up– for you the flag is flung, for you the bugle trills;
For you bouquets and ribboned wreaths, for you the shores a-crowding;
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain!"
The words were uplifting and after contemplating them in solace, on a rooftop, Jack returned to the Hub, prepared to save planet Earth from alien threat once more.
For the Fallen
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.
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.
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.
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.
They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables at 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;
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.
Laurence Binyon (1869-1943)
Thank you for reading. Carrie ; )
November 2009