Let those that come after see to it that their names bE not forgotten

The Kohima Epitaph

When you go home,
Tell Them of us and say,
For your tomorrow,
We gave our today.
Kohima War Cemetery, Burma

A Kings Question
Can there be more potent advocates of peace upon earth through the years to come, than this massed multitudes of silent witnesses to the desolation of war?
King George V, Flanders 1922

A Pray for the Dead of Two World Wars
LET US REMEMBER —
Those who died in battle or in prison camps, or fell victims to disease;
Those whose bodies rest in foreign lands, or in the great deep.
All of whatsoever nation died in the service of their country.

Holy is the true light and passing wonderful, lending radiance to them that endured in the heat of conflict; from Christ they inherit a home of unfading splendour, wherein they rejoice with gladness evermore.

WE praise and bless Thy glorious name, O Lord, for the glad and willing sacrifice of those who laid down their lives that we might live; and we pray that we, like them, may follow their good examples to serve Thee, our country, and the cause of justice and freedom, till the deliverance: through Jesus Christ our Lord.

And a Pray For All Who Suffer By Reason of the War
Almighty and Everlasting God, the strength of them that suffer. We commend unto Thy loving kindness, all those who are stricken and suffering by reason of the War; the disabled, the blinded, the homeless, those whose minds are clouded or unhinged, all who have been bereaved of those dear to them; all whose faith in Thee has been shaken, by what they have seen or suffered. Strengthen them, O God, with Thy love for mankind, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen

Both part of the first post-WW2 Remembrance Service. St. Nicholas Garrison Church, Luneberg, Germany. 11th Nov, 1945.

The Dead
Rupert Brooke 1887-1915

These hearts were woven of human joys and cares,
Washed marvellously with sorrow, swift to mirth.
The years had given them kindness. Dawn was theirs,
And sunset, and the colours of the earth.
These had seen movement, and heard music; known
Slumber and waking; loved; gone proudly friended;
Felt the quick stir of wonder; sat alone;
Touched flowers and furs and cheeks. All this is ended.

There are waters blown by changing winds to laughter
And lit by the rich skies, all day. And after,
Frost, with a gesture, stays the waves that dance
And wandering loveliness. He leaves a white
Unbroken glory, a gathered radiance,
A width, a shining peace, under the night.

High Flight
Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds - and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of - wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up the long delirious, burning blue,
I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or even eagle flew -
And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod
The high untresspassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand and touched the face of God.

Pilot Officer John Gillespie Magee, an American, came to Britain in Oct 1940 and joined the Royal Canadian Airforce to fly Spitfires. The poem was written on the back of a letter to his parents which stated, “I am enclosing a verse I wrote the other day. It started at 30,000 feet, and was finished soon after I landed.”
No 412 squadron, RCAF
Killed 11 December 1941 aged 19 years.

An American Prayer
O Lord support us all the day long, until the shadows lengthen and our work is done. Then in mercy grant us a safe lodging and peace at the last.
Brittany American Cemetery, France.

139th Psalm (Became known as 'The Airmans Psalm' it is inscribed on a large window at the Runnymede Memorial which commemorates the lives of 20,389 RAF WWII aircrew with no known graves)

If I climb up into Heaven, Thou art there;
If I go to Hell, Thou art there also.
If I take the wings of the morning
And remain in the uttermost parts of the sea,
Even there also shall Thy hand lead me;
And Thy right hand shall hold me.

At A War Grave
No grave is rich, the dust that herein lies
Beneath this white cross mixing with the sand
Was vital once, with skill of eye and hand
And speed of brain. These will not re-arise
These riches, nor will they be replaced;
They are lost and nothing now, and here is left
Only a worthless corpse of sense bereft,
Symbol of death, and sacrifice and waste.

John Jarmain
(John Jarmain fought at the Battle of El Alamein and was killed at the age of 33 during the Normandy Landings.)