Armistice Day and Lord Mayor's Show

 Armistice Day and Lord Mayor's Show

It is a day of many paradoxes and celebrations, sterling British traditions and comforting certainties. It is a day for solemnity and reverence, bowing our heads in mourning, colourful street carnivals and London at her finest and most resplendent. How does London do it but, above all, how does Britain do it?  Maybe they've done it because it was somehow expected of us since this is what it does best. There will be an all pervasive respect for those who fought and tragically lost their lives during the two World Wars. 

We may even shed a tear or reminisce on what might have been for our parents and grandparents had not Adolf Hitler and his evil henchmen decided to march through most of Europe and destroy everything and everybody in sight. We will smile and laugh, though, at the uplifting floats with jolly dancers, an entire complement of staff representatives who work for energy and electricity companies, people dressed up as nurses, doctors, greengrocers wearing aprons, postmen and women, people in panda outfits, cute vegetables and melodious brass bands. For today is the Lord Mayor's Show.

Today Armistice Day falls on the same day as the ending of the First World War and the coincidence does have a poetic symmetry about it. For as long as we can remember today's Lord Mayor's Show comes attractively wrapped in nostalgic bows, heavy with symbolism of course and a reminder if it were ever needed that London puts on a show in a way that few capital cities around the world are capable of emulating. London is and will always be the centre of the universe for those who live roughly half an hour from the West End of London and the City of London.

Today is a day of light and shade, of colour and monochrome, for trees to shed their brown autumn leaves and the autumnal shadows to glance across Whitehall, the Bank of England, streets resounding to cheers along the whole procession of the Lord Mayor Show. Families with children and Union Jack flags will advertise and endorse patriotism, Rule Britannia and St George banners. You will know it's a special day because on no other day does the whole of Britain and the capital city of England reveal its finest colours apart from perhaps Easter and Christmas.

Unfortunately it will also be a day of sombre lamentation if only because humanity is still at war and there is a sense here that all of the most heartfelt prayers and blessings count for very little. We pray for peace and reconciliation in the Middle East and the Ukraine since there seems no other way of expressing our abhorrence of this violent and deadly narrative. But just for a while we must hope that today will come as light relief for those people who just want to see the bright side of life, to enjoy the precious sanctity of life, sharing the good times, recalling the memorable and highlighting the positives.

And then we will acknowledge the military contingents, the Royal Army, the Royal Air Force, a venerable band of men and women my late and wonderful dad once served, the regiments, the Scottish band of bagpipers and flutes, the orderly and disciplined platoons of soldiers, cadets, wrens and those wearing the smartly attired uniform of those whose ancestors so nobly served Britain during the World Wars. We will wave endlessly at the livery companies, the brightly colourful children, all nationalities, all religions and classes without an even a hint of prejudice or discrimination.

But then we will gaze in admiration at the Bank of England, the financial heartbeat of the City of London, the place of stocks and shares, interest rates, international currencies and huge sums of money that none of us can even begin to comprehend. The upright pillars near the Bank Tube station are somehow timeless and testament to the fact some things never change in London. The bowler hats and pin striped suits may not be quite seen in the numbers of yesteryear but the Bank of England remains a historic edifice that remains defiant in the face of adversity and somehow magically immovable.

There will be the clash of drums and cymbals, hundreds of medieval court jesters, the Royal Courts of Justice, the new Lord Mayor's banquet and the swearing in of the new Lord Mayor. The whole occasion will have pride and pageantry, a palpable air of opulence and splendour, horses beautifully caparisoned and nodding respectfully at the public and golden carriages heavy with the gleaming accoutrements that make the Lord Mayor's Show such a uniquely stunning occasion.

And then we'll turn our heads respectfully towards Whitehall where men and women with medals on thick coats and red poppies on their lapels will pay a warm homage to the millions who sacrificed their lives on the bloodiest of battlefields. They will deeply miss those who may have been lost for ever but will always be uppermost in our and their minds permanently. Lest we forget has now become the most cherishable phrase ever uttered in peacetime. For we will continue to remember in perpetuity and our ancestors will always be highly regarded in our memories.

For some tomorrow's Remembrance service there will be a disturbing imperialism about the whole day, a day when war and confrontation seemed to go on indefinitely. Still, they think that lessons have never been learnt from both First and Second World Wars because the equipment used on killing fields is still being employed for all the wrong reasons. We hold up our hands in horror because, quite obviously, none of us have noticed that recurring theme, the hatred and the aggression, personal vendettas, historical grudges, the repetitive murders and inexplicable heartache.

But we have to wish that one day we can just move forward from all this hellish hostility, the blatant disregard of human life, the incessant pain and suffering, the criminal atrocities and nothing but death and disaster. It does seem like wishful thinking but for a day at least London came out to play today with its glad rags, partying in fancy dress outfits and determined to be happy and carefree. It is admirable behaviour that can only be a force of good and long may it continue.

And then finally the new Mayor of London will take his place at Mansion House. We will think of the first Mayor of London Dick Whittington all those centuries ago and how Whittington became a perennial pantomime figure at Christmas. We will appreciate the goodness of life, our mental and physical health, for showing the friendly face of the City of London and London as a whole because the terrorists of today may think that the Lord Mayor's Show is just a farcical charade. This should never be the case whatsoever so let's hear it for the new Lord Mayor of London.