A little while ago, my mum and I were talking about when we returned, as a family, from Hong Kong. I was pretty sure - quite convinced, actually - that I had the sequence of events from us leaving Hong Kong to me starting at Tiffin Boys' School pretty much nailed down. But, as it turned out, I didn't have it quite right; I'd lost a couple of weeks somewhere. 

And that's the tricky thing, isn't it? We remember things in a certain way. I don't necessarily mean with a bias, simply that we all build a narrative for our lives and we inevitably - if unintentionally - select or meld facts to fit in with that internal story. I remember my first mother in law, who was quite delightfully happy to state that her version of events might not fit the facts but that it was how she remembered things.

It can be quite amusing, two people remembering the same event in different ways but it can be dangerous, too. That's when facts are important. I'm glad we have holocaust memorials and museums because we should have factual evidence to blow away the fallacious and evil arguments that the most horrific of war crimes didn't take place. 

Similarly, we need to remember - in the face of those right wing morons who are trying to acquire the poppy as they did the union flag - that there was nothing 'British' about winning either of the wars: it was a coalition of people or many creeds and nations, joined together and fighting fascism. I feel those of us who prefer to heed the facts need to reclaim Remembrance Day.

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