When I climbed Mont Blanc du Tacul a Frenchwoman descending the steep snow and ice came across me leaning on the axe and panting with the altitude. Courage mon brave, courage, she said. This Sunday we acknowledge the sacrifice and loss of life, military

When I climbed Mont Blanc du Tacul a Frenchwoman descending the steep snow and ice came across me leaning on the axe and panting with the altitude. "Courage mon brave, courage," she said.

This Sunday we acknowledge the sacrifice and loss of life, military and civilian, in the pursuit of common values and principles, of freedom, liberty, and democracy through conflicts in recent and past history.

Most of all we remember the fight against barbarism in Europe when this country stood alone against the enslavement of humankind, in 1940 until the madness of Barbarossa. England, the nation of my birth has become, of late, introspective and insular, concerned with the contents of ones pockets than the welfare of others. We are more isolated in Europe and flirting with the politics of extremists that give visceral appeal by abusive politicisation of the armed forces. Perhaps on Sunday of all days we can fix our gaze on the bigger picture. Not just pay our respects to the Second World War dead of Royston, but the 380,000 military and civilian dead from the UK, and the 61million from around the world, mainly from the Soviet Union. Also, to acknowledge all past conflicts and right up to today, those serving in Afghanistan, possibly trained nearby.

It is the essential quality of the war dead that we can introduce and exhibit into our everyday lives. Courage mon brave, courage.

Libya, North Africa, 1941: "Milligan. Why are you not wearing your uniform?"

"It's the Nazi's sir, they keep firing bullets at us."

Pause.

"Carry on gunner."

With courage, pride, and respect, assemble from 10.15am on Sunday at Queens Road.

Carlo Zambonini

Old North Road

Royston