What do you think about during the minutes silence?

[NCTDN]

I mean, honestly. I stood there thinking 'what should I be thinking about? I know I'll ask mn'.
But should I actually be thinking about something specific?

This morning I thought of the grave that I saw in a commonwealth war memorial a few years ago - a 19 year old soldier (from WWI) which simply said 'From Mummy and Daddy, always'. So I held DS (16 months, sat on my lap at the time) a little tighter and ended up crying a little bit in the middle of a cafe. And now I'm crying a little bit again.

I start by thinking about how terrible war is. And how incomprehensibly sad it is to even try to compute how many died. And why are they still dying.

Then mind wanders off into some tangent (as minds are wont to do) and I find myself thinking about something completely random, notice I'm doing that, try to drag it back to something more seemly (as there's only two minutes and no time to guide it gently) fell bad that I can't concentrate for even two minutes. Think about family, and those who served. Realise it's over, and feel I've somehow not done it right.

I try to think about all those who have lost their lives in conflicts around the world, but its difficult as I don't know any of them personally. So I then start to think about all the people (mainly men!) who have started those conflicts, and it makes me angry.
I'd like to see the British Legion at the front of the next 'stop the war' march: that would be an improvement.

I think about my grandad who died 18 years ago. I still miss him.

He was a navigator in the RAF during WW2. He lost friends and family, including a friend who died during basic training.

So yeah, I think about him and my nanny and the other people I’ve lost that I love and miss.

Generally i feel incredibly grateful that i didnt live in the first half of last century, and how awful it must have been to see your sons and husband have to go off to war, or live through aerial bombardment. I think of my ds's and how awful it would be if they ever have to serve.

but minds naturally wander to all sorts - oh look at that tree, I like her jacket, i wonder if my hair would suit me like hers, i need to pay that bill later eyc, so thoughts drift in and out.

The Wilfred Owen poem (dulce et decorum est)

My brilliant relative whose glittering career was cut short because he was a pacifist and a conscientious objector.

the children who experience war.

The insanity of breaking up the EU when it did so much to stop war on our continent.

How war is an age old construct that keeps us all frightened and the pockets of warmongers well lined. I'm not grateful. I'm ashamed we still behave this way as a race world wide.

I also thought about the traumatised and injured soldiers, and everything they must still suffer every day. There were quite a number in our church today and you could see how brave they had to be.

LisaSimpsonsbff
This morning I thought of the grave that I saw in a commonwealth war memorial a few years ago - a 19 year old soldier (from WWI) which simply said 'From Mummy and Daddy, always'. So I held DS (16 months, sat on my lap at the time) a little tighter and ended up crying a little bit in the middle of a cafe. And now I'm crying a little bit again.

And now I am

LisaSimpsonsbff

Oh no :(

My grandmother’s best friend, who received a dreaded telegram and ran over to my grandmother’s house with it, sobbing. My grandmother said she’ll never forget the sound of her anguished cries from the street as she approached the house. She’d only been married a few months. She never remarried. That story really stuck with me.

I thought about my grandparents who both served in ww2 and my brain did a little tangent bit about a snowman I built with my grandad. Then wishing the dog would get out of my face so I could see the TV, then how DDs dad (not together now) can be a complete cockwomble but how she almost didn't have a dad at a very young age because he was on active service, and how though I've wanted to strangle him myself at times, he will always have my respect and gratitude for his service, then the last post played and I teared up because it just made me think about those millions of men, scared, cold, dirty and then never coming home.
My grandparents told us a lot about ww2, and somehow watching how it affected them so many years later, telling the stories they had, left a lasting impression, and I have a couple of friends who have now left, and DDs dad, all affected.

I think about my grandpa who was in the RAF and didn’t get back until after VJ Day, and my great uncle who swam the Rhine and was evacuated from Dunkirk, and my great grandfather who survived WW1 but died of Spanish Flu a few years later. And of all those on all sides who did not make it through.

A veteran of D day once told me that as the men lay dying on the beaches they cried for their mothers, I find it unbearable to think about it.

I'm afraid I was thinking, 'Ah, listen to those toddlers chatting away. I remember when DS2 was tiny and it was impossible to keep him silent for the entire two minutes and I used to get so stressed and embarassed, but now they are teens and when I hear toddlers during the silence they just sound cute and innocent.' And then I was praying that DS1 doesn't join the army because he might and it's always been a massive fear of mine.

I'm just trying so hard it to cry. Not to weep like a baby.

I get very emotional when I think of the millions of lives lost to thankless and horrific wars, in pain and often alone.

Humanity and the lack of humanity. The fear and the suffering. Gratitude that ordinary people stood up for the rights of others and that my generation has been spared the scale of what happened in the world wide conflicts, but not all of us have been so lucky and there are people suffering the same today.

I think about my uncle who was shot down age 21 in February 1945, he was the closest brother to my dad who I lost this year, my Grandad on my dad's side, he fought in the first world war & came back with shell shock, my other Grandad who was posted to India, my mum never saw him from 1941 - 1947 & she didn't recognise him when he came home, both of my grandmothers who were left at home to bring up children & survive the war alone & especially my dad's mum who lost a son.

I think of my granddad who went to Burma and was the only one of his friends to return. He never spoke of the war the rest of his life.

I think of my friend who was killed in the Gulf war.

I think of all those who fought and died, and how young they were, and how grateful I am.

I think of the millions of animals who also died being used in the wars. The horses, camels, pigeons and more.

There's so much to think about.

I used to think about the cadets and veterans in the parade and hope they didn't collapse (both DH and DS took part and at least one person collapses each year). This year I have been party to three silences (one at my workplace, two on the telly) and I stood and thought about DH.

I was the matchday controller for a silence at the stadium I work at, and radioed all staff 10 minutes before to remind them, and then a minute before to tell them that they had to observe the silence unless it was a life or death situation. I spent that silence with my fingers crossed that nothing happened

I was thinking shit I forgot to warn my five year old about this. I hope he stays quiet, I hope he’s not freaked out. I hope I can explain this in a way that makes sense and helps him understand but doesn’t traumatise him, what seriously is the right level of tragedy and humanity is all fucked to explain to a five year old.

This might be morbid, but I think about what it must have felt like to be that mother receiving the telegram. How she must have felt. Some memorials have lists with three or four surnames the same, and different initials. I don’t know how they managed to carry on living (the mums I mean).

I think about my great grandad, he was killed in World War One.
My grandma was 6 months old when he died, she never knew him.
Great grandma was left to raise her child alone, she never re-married.

His name is on the Menin gate, his body was never found.
We have the letter from the trenches, written in pencil notifying great grandma of his death.

It makes me so emotional and I can't even put into words why that is. I don't have anyone to think about who died during the two world wars and no military family. I think it's the overwhelming sadness of it all, all the young men and civilians just gone, for the absolute awfulness of war.