Watching the Remembrance Sunday ceremony at the Cenotaph in Whitehall a few weeks ago, I was reminded of the importance of tradition.
This service has been taking place for decades and has been televised for as long as I can remember. It is something which I endeavour to watch every year, particularly since the advent of my children.
There is something about the ceremony itself which sums up everything that is important about tradition.
The presence of the Queen and the Royal Family, all bowing and honouring a stone monument to the memory of those who died to preserve our future. Our democratically elected officials representing us and laying wreaths on our behalf, whilst the clergy of the Church of England and many other denominations administer to the spiritual side of the event. The bugles sounding The Last Post and the brass bands playing favourite hymns and relevant tunes from the War years. The stentorian tones of the Sergeant Major commanding all to stand to attention or make easy. The huge variety of uniforms, the poppy encrusted wreaths and participants.
Traditions which go back for centuries are the backbone of our Nation and what make us so unique.
We lose any of them at our peril.
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