As the red poppies fell at the Festival of Remembrance on Saturday evening, one poppy for every member of the armed services killed during military action, they drew a blanket of quiet thought over those assembled.
I began to think about the children of those men and women who had died, and I remembered Jason who, many years ago now, attended the nursery where I worked. I recalled the day that we heard the news that Jason’s dad had been killed while on a tour of duty. For me, Jason is still just three years old, but by now he may well have a partner and children of his own.
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