November 2007 – Watching the Parade

Dressed in the uniform of his peers, the boy was just fifteen. Grey hoody, pulled up loosely round his head. His trackie bottoms were tucked tightly into black socks. White trainers with the laces turned in beneath his feet. He was leaning casually on a stone pillar, on which the gates of the park were mounted. The public park was his regular stomping ground. It was an escape from the misery at home.

Something sounded in the distance and the boy pricked up his ears. There was music playing in the background. It was getting closer. Then he saw the first of the marchers, climbing up the hill from the station. The column crested the brow of the hill, making for where he stood.

The colours of the uniforms and the decorated regimental banners stood out in stark relief against the unrelenting grey of the early November sky. It was a bit of a spectacle for the boy, a change from the tedium of another Sunday morning, aimlessly mooching around.

The troops, veterans and cadets turned smartly through the gates, and began the steep climb up the winding hill path, to the Cenotaph memorial. A small crowd stood opposite the park entrance. They were an odd bunch. Old stubbly men were standing cheek to jowl, with slips of girls out pushing their babies. Little kids standing next to men in replica football shirts who were kitted out for an afternoon in the pub.

There were actually quite a number of onlookers. The boy thought it must be because of the war. He didn’t take much of an interest in current affairs, but the conflict in Afghanistan had even pierced through his shield of affected boredom. He’d been surprised to find that even some of his mates had taken to wearing a red poppy.

Then quite suddenly, the boy picked up a sound breaking through the military march music. It was coming from those watching, the unmistakeable sound of clapping. He saw the bystanders look at each other quizzically. Their faces were displaying a mixture of embarrassment and surprise. The boy continued to stand with his head down. Then as the parade passed, he lazily detached himself from his pillar and slouched behind them up the hill.