As I type this, the Service of Remembrance from the Cenotaph in London, is being broadcast.
The pipes and drums are playing the Skye Boat Song. For me, it is a tune which is inextricably linked with my father. As small children we would each sit on his lap, after Sunday lunch, and he would bounce us up and down, singing the song and getting faster and faster towards the end, with lots of tickling! It never failed to please us all!
I discovered this year that Dad fought at the Battle of Kohima, in north-east India, in 1944. Amongst papers, which my brother has, I found the words my father wrote about his years in India and Burma, whilst serving during the war.
Today, in that minute's silence, at eleven o'clock, and as the canons fire in salute, you can't fail to feel moved, and grateful, to all those service men and women, who fought, and still fight, to keep us safe, and free.