100th anniversary war memorial service

I went along to the 100th anniversary of the first World War service at the bottom of Streatham common this morning, it was gently moving, non jingoistic and eccentric the way many things in Streatham are, with a very diverse presence of men, women, children and representatives of many religious and cultural heritages. Our MP Chuka Umunna laid the first wreath on behalf of all constituents. That's him in the middle below, a future prime minister many people speculate. He cut an impressive, towering figure, among the vicars, rabbis and council leaders who were also present.

When I was a child cars would stop and pull over to the side of the road to honour the two minute silence, which strangely today started at 10:58. Someone told me they used to turn the traffic lights beside the memorial to red, so the traffic would cease, but this morning the traffic roared around us as usual.

I don't view this as a celebration or idealisation of war, but a shared time of grief. I think about my grandparents and parents who lived through these traumas, in particular the Second World War and all the great uncles I never knew who went, with no joy at all, to fight in Europe and the Middle East during the First World War. A very brief internet search on my part identified at least five Dagworthys (my grandmother's side of the family) fighting in places such as Italy and France and other locations that must have seemed bewilderingly remote to them. I know my grandmother lost at least one brother, and vaguely remember her describing another one who was never found, perhaps he's the unknown soldier who watches over the A23 in the picture above?