On Sunday 11th November, Porthleven will remember all those who gave their lives in the Great War, World War II and conflicts on-ward to the present day. Remembrance Day is not just for all those who served, or supported the efforts and came home. But for the Nation as a whole to remember.
This year is also poignant, as it is the 100th anniversary of Armistice Day. Where on the 11th of the 11th the guns finally fell silent.
In Porthleven, there will be two events on Sunday. the first being at 11am at the War Memorial. For all those who wish to partake in this, please muster at the War Memorial at 10:45, where there will be a service of remembrance at 11am.
The second event is the main parade. Like the previous event I hope as many people can give up their time to attend.
For all those who wish to attend, please muster at the Public Hall at 13:45. The parade will form up just after 14:00, and setting off at 14:15 sharp with a procession, led by Porthleven Band to Fore Street Methodist Chapel where there will be a service of remembrance. On completion of this, there will be a procession from Chapel to the War Memorial, where a further service of remembrance and wreath laying will take place (roughly at 15:15). On completion, it is a march past and procession to the public hall for refreshments.
As Mayor, but also as an ex-serviceman, I hope as many will attend the two events on Sunday.
“They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old: Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun and in the morning, We will remember them”.
The full poem For the Fallen written by Laurance Binyon:
With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.
Solemn the drums thrill: Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres.
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.
They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England’s foam.
But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;
As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain,
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.
Is it not widely know, but the poem was composed while Binyon was sitting on the cliff-top looking out to sea from the dramatic scenery of the north Cornish coastline. A plaque marks the location at Pentire Point, north of Polzeath. However, there is also a small plaque on the East Cliff north of Portreath.