As we approach Remembrance Day, we pause to honour the brave men and women who have served, and continue to serve our country. Their courage, sacrifice and dedication will never be forgotten. We must also remember the families of the brave, who have equally sacrificed, saying goodbye to their loved ones who never got to return, and for those who did but life suddenly felt very different.
Our Sacro family have many veterans across various services, we see you, we appreciate you and we thank you for your service.
‘They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old: Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun, and in the morning, we will remember them.’
This year, we have asked Brian Kelly, a mentor with our Veterans Mentoring Service, and a veteran of the British Army, to tell us what Remembrance means to him. This is his very personal account.
For most of the UK, Remembrance Day is marked by a moment of silence, a flash of scarlet on a lapel, and perhaps a solemn parade. It is a necessary, shared act of national gratitude. For me, a veteran of the British Army who served in both Iraq and Afghanistan, it is something far deeper. It’s the day the ghosts walk closest.
The poppy is not just a symbol of respect for the fallen of the Great War, it is a personal map; marking the ground I walked, the air I breathed, and the cost I paid. When I see that little paper flower, I don't just see history, I see faces. I see the heat haze over Helmand Province and the dust kicked up in Basra. But more than anything else, I see three men. Three good men, my mates, who never came home. They are the reason, the silence on the 11th hour truly matters. This is what Remembrance Day means to me. It is the one day I am contractually obliged, by my own heart, to look them in the eye again. The weight of absence, when the silence falls. My mind doesn't drift to the big picture it sharpens to the details. The small, imperfect memories of my friends are the things the war couldn't touch. They, and all other fallen soldiers are the true legacy they left behind.
For me, Remembrance Day is not just about honouring their bravery, it's about mourning the future they were robbed of. They never got to see their families again, never got to complain about mortgages, never got to grow old. That absence is a hollow space that never truly fills.
My primary message to people is this: we must remember the person, not just the soldier. When you see a veteran like me wearing this poppy, know that we are carrying a different weight. We are remembering the friend who died so we could live. We are remembering the promise we silently made to their families that they would never be forgotten.
Remembrance Day asks us to pause, and rightly so. But what do we do when the two minutes are over? For many, the day ends with the poppy being carefully removed. For me, the true act of remembrance begins then. The greatest tribute I can pay to my three friends is not just to wear the poppy in silence, but to live a life worthy of the sacrifice they made. They never got the chance to finish their stories, to see their kids grow, or simply to wake up without the weight of the world on their shoulders. They were cut short while serving others.
So, I carry their memory forward by trying to live with the fullness they were denied. I laugh loudly, I appreciate the mundane beauty of a quiet morning, and I pursue purpose every day. This isn't disrespect, it's completion.
We must always remember and honour their sacrifice, not just on 11th November, but in the way we approach our own lives. If we waste the time and peace they bought for us, then their loss truly was in vain. For them, and for all the fallen, we must keep living fully, honestly, and with gratitude for the gift they gave us.
Brian Kelly
