WAR
   


What candles may be held to speed them all?

Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes,
shall shine the holy glimmers of good-byes.

Wilfred Owen,
Anthem for Doomed Youth

Amblecote, in common with every other city, town, village and hamlet of Britain did not remain untouched by the two great wars of the 20th century.

The first, which turned the certain world of the Victorian made British Empire up-side-down, brought death in plenty to the people of the town. After it a plaque listing the names of sixty dead was erected on a new Lych Gate at the entrance to Holy Trinity Church upsetting, as well it might, the otherwise perfect symmetry of James Fosters elegant railings. A generation later a further plaque was added listing the dead of the Second World War, a mute but powerful testimony to the poor sense of politicians and the inate courage of the ordinary British people on whom they ultimately rely.

A modern 'politically correct' tendency to look on commemorating the dead of the wars as war mongering is as facile as it is offensive; and this page, like the memorials, stand not to glorify war but to honour peace, and focus on the ultimate cost of political miscalulation.