The day was damp and miserable, typical but fitting. The trees lining the boulevard funneled the rainwater away from the mournful procession, at the fore a motorized carriage bearing the casket, immediately behind the tearful relatives. Then came the associates and finally those paying their respects to the deceased.

Not a sound was heard beyond the steady drip of the rain, muffled whine of the carriage’s motors and the occasional cough of those within the procession.

Eventually the boulevard opened out into a large open expanse, which was broken up by hundreds of simple stone markers, and the statue. The statue was a simple design, a human with a rifle hung limp in the left and, and in the right hand a set of identification tags, commonly called ‘dog tags’. The statue was peering down at the dog tags with a mournful look on its face. The pedestal beneath bore the sentence ‘Lest We Forget’.

The procession turned right and carried on down until they came upon an open grave and a stand. Here the procession stopped and split and went to the covered seating facing the speakers stand. When everyone sat a man in military uniform stepped up and on the speakers stand and faced those seated.

The man, a General, was silent for a minute then spoke. “We are here today to pay our respects to a fallen hero. Colonel Jonathon Wilson Biggs was a warrior and an idealist. He was an idealist in the purest and most noble sense. He believed in what he did. He fought, not as a killer, but a defender of his family, his friends and his home. He fought those who wished to tear everything down and render all that he held dear to ashes. This was why he fought. Not the money, not the medals and accolades. No nothing of that was for him. No.” The General shook his head, tears forming in his eyes. “I would like to think that Jonathon considered me a friend. For we did speak about anything and everything, and one day, after a terrible battle, did Jonathon explain to me why he fought. He told me that he was a father and a grandfather. He had family at home waiting for him. When I asked why he still fought even after his compulsory tours he gave me a look and said; ‘James. I want to protect them. I want to protect them from all who would try and take everything away from them. Our enemies do not hate us. They hate what we have, and what we have is what I am defending. I am defending my family and home. I am giving my grandchildren a future.’” General James Watson smiled wryly, tears flowing freely. “That revelation had rocked me. I suddenly found before me a true patriot and hero. And that made Jonathon a very rare man.” General Watson stopped and shook his head. “There is nothing more I can say but honour this man. He was a patriot and hero, who we all should emulate.” Head bowed the General took a step back, turned, and left the speakers stage.
A bugle sounded. In the silence the bugler played a tune known to all militaries and warriors everywhere. The Taps. It acknowledged a fallen warrior, and hero, and said, without words, goodbye. Those who were in uniform stood and saluted the casket. The bugle played out the last notes and faded away.

A minute’s silence ensued before being broken by the bugler playing the second half of Taps, signalling the end of the funeral. Quietly the various persons either slipped away or met and talked quietly about the man they had acknowledged, some seeking out the bereaved and extending the condolences and messages of acknowledgement.

Soon the graveyard was empty except for the two gravediggers who filled in the grave and set the gravestone. And then the graveyard was truly empty.
Author’s notes

Not exactly a SLA piece.
Just something I wrote on the spur of the moment and it is something I am almost familiar with, having attended several remembrance parades for both World Wars but also a local fallen hero.
I know there are many, many people who consider war to be a wrong and evil thing. These people I disagree with and consider having a shortsighted view.
Yes war is wrong, but it is often necessary. Many wars are started through greed or religious intolerance, quite often both. But some are started in defence of ideals.

People do not understand when others attend remembrance parades. They go on about forgetting the past and building towards the future. What they fail to consider is that the past is an intrinsic part of who we are culturally, and even physically. But also the past is part of the future, we build upon past achievements and atrocities.
Remembrance parades are not there to keep dredging up the past and keep old hatreds alive. No they are there to say; ‘We remember and thank you, who died, for your sacrifice. We will not forget.’