11th Day of the 11th Month.

Three reasons why I wear a poppy this month. 1) someone I knew from poly died flying a helicopter in a tragic accident in the opening days of the Iraq war in 2003.  He shouldn't have been there in an illegal war.  The poppy reminds me of this injustice and that violence isn't the answer.  2) my younger grandad landed in France on 6th June 1944 in D-Day and got as far as Caen before being wounded in a mortar attack and returned to England. His brother, a paratrooper landed the day before, to take a vital bridge.  He didn't return.  The poppy reminds of the war against the Nazis and how we must continue the fight against the Far Right and extremists.  3) My older grandad survived World War I.  He signed up as a 15 year old, lying about his age because Lord Kitchener wanted him to fight for King and Country.  He was poisoned by mustard gas and lived a life afflicted by bronchial problems which eventually killed him.  The poppy reminds me of the futility of war.  Three generations of death.  Three generations of ordinary people who gave their lives in wars constructed by the State.  That's why I wear the poppy.  So stick your jingoism, and stuff your nationalism where the sun doesn't shine.  Instead think about your fallen brothers and sisters, comrades in arms.