The Press Stories
In the wake of an epidemic that has killed more than a million people around the world, people across the country wearing masks and standing alone observed a two-minute silence on Wednesday.
The Snail of Silence at Westminster Abbey was led by the Prince of Wales, Duchess of Cornwall, Prime Minister and Leader of the Opposition.
Memorials at monuments in cities, towns and villages in the four countries of the United Kingdom are usually attended by thousands, instead of marking the event at home, with some standing in the doorways.
A special exemption was granted to Govt restrictions to allow a service in Westminster Abbey, marking 100 years since the body of an unknown soldier was buried.
Along with Boris Johnson and Sir Khair Stormer, the council included Secretary of Defense Ben Wallace and leading figures in the Armed Forces.
Poet Laureate Simon Armitage read a poem commemorating the anniversary, symbolizing “the son we lost”, “name or position or age or homeless soul”
The bed describes the fallen soldier’s journey, from “breaking a dirty grave and sleeping hard” to being buried “among the sleeping poets and enchanting saints”.
It concludes: “All these things are for a soul without name, rank, age, or house: for thou art our lost Son, and thy rest is ours.”
An unidentified British soldier, an unidentified British servant, brought the body from northern France in 1920 and buried it on the western tip of Abe’s tongue to represent all those who lost their lives in World War I, but the location of the dead remains unknown or whose body has not been found.
In his Sermon on the Mount, Archbishop Justin Welby of Canterbury told the Congregation that “Sacrifice is not limited to war.”
He said: “Sacrifices have been made this year, not even known by thousands and millions. People have set aside everything they have. We should never meet them or read their names. We do not know what they suffered or left behind. They may be anonymous, but their actions are glorious. ”
Prince Charles hid his face and read a lesson. The prayers were said to be “for every person grieve, for every future cut.”
At the cemetery in Whitehall, a small closing ceremony was held. L / Charge Stuart Lowing from the 1st Battalion Welsh Guards made the last entry and reville in 1915 on an error recovered from the mud of the Battle of Som.
Memorial services were also held in Edinburgh, Belfast and Cardiff. In Liverpool, soldiers assisting with the mass Govt test at the Arena Convention Center were suspended during their mission.
More than 100 poppy garlands were transported to the Paddington station in London on nine trains from more than 60 stations, including Bensons, Hereford, Picton, Swansea, Downton, Worcester Shrub Hill, Cheltenham Spa, Bristol Temple Meets and Oxford. The wreaths were laid at a war memorial in Paddington.
The outbreak has affected milestone anniversaries and commemorations throughout the year, including Victory Day (VE) Day in Europe and Victoria (VJ Day) Day in Japan.
The memorial Sunday service at the cemetery attended by the Queen last weekend had to be re-measured and closed to the public.
Ahead of Wednesday’s ceremony, environmental campaigners of the Holocaust staged a protest at the cemetery, unfurling a banner: “Respect their sacrifice and climate change symbolizes war.”
Bed by Simon Armitage
Sharp wind scissors and sickle in those plains.
Because you are broken and in a difficult sleep
In a dirty grave, we exchange crude wooden crosses
For the hilt and blade of the proven sword;
To hack through the knot darkness of the next world,
Yes, but to lean on a style or gate
Looking at Fences or Weilts or Falls or Volts.
The sword, taken from a king’s scabbard,
Fits the hand of a commoner, and it is yours.
And by plucking frosting threads
Your nerves and your bones explode in the rain,
Bed linen of zinc and oak is trimmed
And appropriately designed. Sandbags are drafted,
To raise the limbs and to interfere with dreams,
We are throwing on a battlefield:
One inch of earth, your share in the spoils.
Heavy stone sheet Belgian marble
A high black glossy, blanket
The flag that served as the altar cloth. Darkness
Files last, until morning, bowed its head.
Molten bullets embroider words inserted.
Among sleeping poets and dodging saints
Tall white candles will send awareness
Providing weapons with hard yellow flames;
So no one will step on the opposite path,
But referring to royal brides in satin sandals
You will be adorned and crowned with glowing flowers.
All this for one soul
Because without name, position or age or house you
Son we have lost, your rest is ours.
“Alcohol evangelist. Devoted twitter guru. Lifelong coffee expert. Music nerd.”
