Today's Cenotaph wreath laying is a PR sham.

The correct moment for Remembrance last week was at the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month, the exact anniversary of the World War One armistice when the guns fell silent after the first German attempt to impose their hegemony over the entire European Continent. This year that moment came last Thursday and in many parts of Europe it was duly observed with those slaughtered being properly remembered and honoured.

When I was young traffic stopped at that instant to allow for proper observance of the period of silence.

This later became an inconvenience in Britain, where 11th November was an ordinary working day unlike in other parts of Europe, so Remembrance was displaced to Sunday.

So detached from our own recent history and trivialised by our shallow media have we become, that yesterday I read an article directed at our nation's youth, which implied they needed guidance as to how to occupy their minds during the sombre two minutes. I have an alternative suggestion for them:

Given the fact that proper regard to our fallen heroes was given last Thursday, and remembering that all the beliefs and values for which they died have now been trashed by our self-serving, expense manipulating, political classes I propose we consider the depth of the betrayal of the three political leaders standing clutching their wreaths in front of the Cenotaph and the treachery and hypocrisy of the political parties they represent.

These men, the latest in a long line of similarly sinister liars and tricksters, have betrayed not just their country but the sacrifice of all those who fought and died for its independence and democracy down the centuries. In the two minutes of silence, think on the implications of the thoughts well conveyed in the poem beneath this posting that I put on this blog yesterday, think of the treachery that drove all three parties to deprive us of a referendum on the Lisbon Treaty which entered into power only one year ago on the 1st December yet has already cost us dear in no longer having our own foreign representation but also made our police forces dance to the tune of foreigners!

Shot at Dawn - a poem for Remembrance Sunday tomorrow!

Shot at Dawn. 11.11.2010.

Sixteen year old Herbert Burden

Lied about his age,

To fight for King and Country

Yet with his life he paid.

He saw his friends each massacred,

At the Battlefield of Bellwarde Ridge,

He bravely faced the firing squad,

Yet “officially” still under age.

Now tied firmly to the solid stake,

A white cloth pinned on his shirt,

A solitary Priest prayed for him

Loud came the order then to shoot.

God forgive those that metered out such “Justice”,

For those that fell asleep at their post,

Forgive those that refused to fight,

Or so terrified they just couldn’t cope.

Many so young paid the ultimate price,

Forgiveness will not bring them back.

They did their best for their Country

Of courage not one of them lacked.

Some refused to be blindfolded,

They stared down the barrels of those guns,

Guns that they knew would kill them,

Not cowards when all’s said and done.

Yet those standing today at the Cenotaph,

To pay respects to those now dead

In this year of Twenty-Ten,

There is much that needs to be said.

In 1914 they at least tried their best

For their Country and fellow man,

But “Today’s” Politicians with forked tongues speak

With no courage to say what they’ve done.

Others were shot for their fear of dying,

But their Country remained safe and free,

Now foreigners strut around and new laws make,

That have to be obeyed by you and me.

They deliberately gave away their Country

Bit by bit over air, land and sea,

Broken promises, shared ships, new Treaties,

Put in jeopardy-our Security.

But ‘ere the sun sets on this Country,

MP’s will come to know deep shame,

For those “Shot at Dawn” were far braver

For Crown and Country they never betrayed.

by Anne Palmer