Anniversaries

There is something about the anniversaries of historical events that really gets me up and going. Today, for example is the 20th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall. I’ve got a picture of the fall on my desktop just for today. For me, these events mark key points in human history, points which define our mindsets till this day. The fall of the Berlin Wall, for example, is the enduring symbol of freedom, of unity. In some sense, it echoes the immortal words of the Deutschlandlied – “Einigkeit und Recht und Freiheit für das deutsche Vaterland!” It is the powerful imagery of common people tearing down walls of oppression to achieve their freedoms and liberties that really enthralls me. It’s the same for other events. Powerful imagery that shapes the way we think and form opinions. The handover of Hong Kong in 1997 represented the end of an empire that spanned the globe. D-day represented the beginning of the fight to take out Nazi tyranny once and for all. Trafalgar proved that Britannia ruled the waves. All these events have their own particular imagery for their significance.

But one symbol that really moves me is the red poppy of remembrance. This is not the same poppy used for drug production; although that’s the sort of confusion I seem to be getting around this time of the year. Because it grows on disturbed ground, it grew among the trenches of the Great War. The imagery is best described in John McRae’s poem “In Flanders Fields” – “In Flanders fields the poppies blow between the crosses, row on row, that mark our place.” In Singapore, this flower has no cultural significance except for perhaps the connotations of opium production. It explains all the weird looks I get, and it explains the long stories I have to tell people whenever I have to explain its significance. It really bugs me sometimes when Singaporeans have no idea of the suffering soldiers go through in war. Perhaps it is because Singapore experienced war as a civilian population, and the people protecting us were the British. What is taught in our textbooks and is often emphasised is that the British lost. True, but it stops short of the experiences of the Diggers and Highlanders on the ground. The textbooks often praise the Malay Regiment, but they forget all the other regiments present. Imagine fighting thousands of miles from home and the enemy is right at your doorstep. In Hong Kong, the pillboxes had the names of the streets of old London Town on them. They missed home. So we have homesick soldiers fighting a losing battle. After the surrender, they are sent to crowded POW camps, and then some are sent to die working to build a railway for the enemy. This is one of those truly depressing scenarios that have failed to have been brought across.

Remembrance Day commemorates the fallen Commonwealth soldiers. Singapore is part of the Commonwealth. Fine, we had not many local combatants, but that is beside the point. Allow the words of Atatürk, leader of the Turks at Gallipoli to bring across my intended message. Maybe they are slightly out of context since the Turks were the enemy but the words are still applicable anyway - “You, the mothers, who sent their sons from faraway countries, wipe away your tears; your sons are now lying in our bosom and are in peace. After having lost their lives on this land, they have become our sons as well.”

Let me say this, that there is no shame in showing our gratitude to those who have fought for our freedom by remembering them. In fact, the ceremony yesterday at Kranji was extremely humbling. I saw, in front of me, a Royal Marine veteran with the South Atlantic Medal (with rosette) across his chest. I then realised he was one of those who fought and yomped to reach Port Stanley. I suddenly felt very, very small.

However, what really had my blood boiling yesterday at Kranji was that some uniformed groups did not remove their headdress during the prayer. Commander Haycock had already asked all uniformed personnel to remove headdress, and then he did so himself. All the foreign colonels and captains solemnly removed their caps. And the cadets and officers of the uniformed groups stood there without a clue as to what was this strange foreign protocol was, that gentlemen should remove their caps when they are praying. Ignorance should not, and should never be an excuse, when it comes to ceremonies bordering on the near-sacred such as these.

When will we ever learn?