East Garston

November is a seemingly endless month..... is it Autumn or is it Winter? Invariably, it can represent both. The common perception of November is one of murky, colourless days that are often shrouded in mist and dampness. The countryside itself sometimes appears to retreat into hibernation along with all it's law abiding inhabitants. November is also inextricably linked to our remembrance of the fallen in both World Wars. The eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month marks the point at which the guns of the Western Front fell silent after more than four years of entrenched warfare.

The Royal British Legion has always supported the traditional Remembrance Sunday services along with the customary Two Minute Silence on that day. The Legion is quite rightly of the opinion that when the 11th of November, (Armistice Day), falls on days other than Sundays...( i.e.on working days) - The act of Remembrance should be brought into the everyday life of the nation on those days as as a matter of course....
East Garston's remembrance service has in the past been restricted to inclusion within normal Sunday Worship, any parishioner wishing to attend a dedicated War Memorial service has found it neccessary to travel to Lambourn, Hungerford or Newbury to do so.

However, that is thankfully no longer the case. All Saints' Church is now under the guidence of an ex army Chaplain, The Revd. Tony Cumberlidge. Tony told me that he didn't feel he could pass the War Memorial without knowing the wreath placed there-on had been done so with proper reverance and dedication. With the help of Church Warden, Bob Briant, a service was arranged at short notice. The resulting attendance figures for that beautiful, sunny, Thursday morning, was proof of the overdue need for a village based, dedicated Remembrance Service. On behalf of all who attended I wish to thank Tony for making this very important ceremony available to us here in our village

The Revd. Tony Cumberlidge

The Missing
by S.L

Never again the tears will flow from eyes that cannot see,
Only dead men here so who will know
their world that used to be.

Never again birds in their sky, no song of life to sing,
No dead men's lips will make reply
Their pain, no scream will bring.

Never again will memories call upon their unnamed graves,
For mercy will no dead men call
Of silence they are slaves.

Never again that infernal hell, the peace will now deceive;
Only dead men here so who can tell,
And anyway who would believe.

And now the Torch and Poppy Red ~ We wear in honor of our dead.