This year, this very loaded date also coincides with the many memorials of the First World War. My grandfather and his brother were among the millions of teenagers who joined the army in patriotic fever. Only one of them came home, but my family still tells stories of their war experiences, and we still keep my great-uncle’s cigarette case that he carried when he died.
Here, the dead are commemorated with ceramic poppies, and NPR has more here.
I’ll link to a much earlier post on this date here.
I wish I could say Never Again, but that seems hypocritical.