I am always moved at the plethora of faces and the intricacies of character those faces show as the old soldiers sailors and airman march past in what seems an unending parade. Proud and upright, this is their day to share a kinship few of us can understand.
The retired Sargent's scream, "eyes left" order as they draw abreast of the Cenotaph, these men, the lifeblood of the non-commissioned ranks, relish the role of barking the order and the men who many are in their 80s, instinctively snap their heads left as if they were still under orders.
The drum beats its tattoo, the marchers keep pace (as well as their old limbs can) to the foot fall of the man in front and slowly another years commemoration comes to a close.
I'm not sure how other nations do it but we seem to get the tone just right. It's about first and foremost, the people, the essence of any society is its people and how we value them. No matter how often we close the streets and wheel out the aristocracy it's the sight of those trammelled features bristling with pride, respectful of who they represent and proud to pay homage to the fallen that makes it all worth while.
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