My Grandfather fought in the First World War. He joined up with his brothers, he was just 15. Whilst fighting for Queen and country he was shot, but survived. When he was in his 80's he was taken ill, an X-Ray revealed the bullet, still there, buried deep within his body. It wasn't just the bullet that was buried deeply, but also the terrible memories, of horror and loss. Today, at 11pm we will remember and give thanks for the life we have today, and the sacrifices that made it possible.
*The above image is from a Christmas card sent out after the first World War.