November Newsletter 2026 Part one

1. Welcome to November’s newsletter. November 11th marks Remembrance Day also known as Poppy Day owing to the tradition of wearing a remembrance poppy. It is observed in former countries of the British Empire and current Commonwealth member states since the end of the First World War to honor armed forces members who have died in the line of duty. The day is also marked by war remembrances in several other non-Commonwealth countries. In most countries, Remembrance Day is observed on 11th November to recall the end of the First World War hostilities which ended “at the 11thhour of the 11th day of the 11th month” of 1918 in accordance with the armistice signed by representatives of Germany and the Entente between 5:12 and 5:20 that morning. The First World War formally ended with the signing of the Treaty of Versailles on 28th June 1919. The use of the poppy was inspired by the poem ‘In Flanders Fields”. The second poem, ‘Young Tommies Final Push’, was written by me to reflect on the significance of Remembrance Day and the tragedy of the destruction and loss of life in war and conflicts. I was honored to be asked for it to be included in local church services.

In Flanders Fields

In Flanders fields, the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

YOUNG TOMMY’S FINAL PUSH

The day awakes as darkness rolls back

The air soon to erupt with the sound of attack

The light reveals poppies and the mud of our trench

Once more a maelstrom of confusion and stench

We fight for a cause but make little fuss

With government words and threats now behind us

We joined up as boys but fight on as men

Our weapons prove mightier now than the pen

The whistle sounds, ‘we’re over the top’

To charge on forward, we dare not stop

We’re met with a storm of smoke and shell

And climb over our comrades, left where they fell

Dying men fall, but there they’ll remain

Alas, I’m hit with a flash and the pain

The dying, they haunt us, but I’ll not desert

As a bloody red rose spreads across my shirt

I crash to the ground on to barbed wire and soil

I twist round and around to face up to my toil

The sweet taste of grass meets cordite and sweat

I vow not to give up my life, just yet

I dream of peace as I stare to the sky

This is hell on earth and I ask myself why?

With a fresh gentle breeze and cool clear water

England’s stark contrast to this field of slaughter

‘I love you mum’, I whisper as new strength I seek

I feel her soft hand gently touching my cheek

I close my eyes as I gently weep

As I begin my long and peaceful sleep.

Dave Allport