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Will anyone observe the 2 minutes silence today at work ?


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I'm surprised. I thought it was the absolute norm to observe the 2 minutes. I've never worked anywhere that hasn't.


There've been a few spats on Twitter where people didn't observe the twitter silence and have been punished by an Unfollow. One most excellent tweet at 11.01 commented that people were still talking - a bit like the kid who puts his hand up after prayers to say that other people didn't have their eyes closed.

We did a three minute 27 seconds silence - 1 minute as the Last Post was played, one for quiet thought and 1 minute and 27 seconds for Reveille. Oh and then we were silent as a stanza from the poem "For the Fallen" by Laurence Binyon was read out. Beautifully observed as well.

Great post there annaj


Me and MrPR at home both did. Actually I cried. It is so unbelievably sad.


annaj Wrote:

-------------------------------------------------------

> We did.

> And if we can manage it in an emergency

> department...

citizenED Wrote:

-------------------------------------------------------

> We did a three minute 27 seconds silence - 1

> minute as the Last Post was played, one for quiet

> thought and 1 minute and 27 seconds for Reveille.

> Oh and then we were silent as a stanza from the

> poem "For the Fallen" by Laurence Binyon was read

> out. Beautifully observed as well.


I have always preferred the Preface to Owen's work, perhaps more than the poetry itself, because it captures the essence of the need for the poetry....and I think it echoes through time.


With ex comrades still under fire daily, there certainly are fresher fields than Flanders.


'This book is not about heroes. English Poetry is not yet fit to speak of them. Nor is it about deeds or lands, nor anything about glory, honour, dominion or power,

except War.

Above all, this book is not concerned with Poetry.

The subject of it is War, and the pity of War.

The Poetry is in the pity.

Yet these elegies are not to this generation,

This is in no sense consolatory.


They may be to the next.

All the poet can do to-day is to warn.

That is why the true Poets must be truthful.

If I thought the letter of this book would last,

I might have used proper names; but if the spirit of it survives Prussia, -- my ambition and those names will be content; for they will have achieved themselves fresher fields than Flanders'.

I work for a police force & all the stations observed the 2 minute silence, the police radios were silent & all the vehicles pulled over for the 2 minutes. I observed Bank Junction in the city via CCTV & the buses had also stopped where they were, people were standing around heads bowed. Bought a lump to my throat.
I was in a school today and over the tannoy at 11.04 (so it wasn't in transit between lessons) it was announced that a 2 min silence would follow which I was really impressed with. But I was quite disgusted at the teacher wondering round fiddling with bits and bobs and the sixth form students doodling etc. and not being given the stop that stare by the teacher. It's not meant to be just silence but thinking about what has/is been sacrificed for us.
We had a tannoy message at 1055 to warn people and then an announcement at 11. This year, the email that went round the day before reminded people that it was supposed to be a time to reflect so they didn't really want to hear the clacking of keyboards as people just worked through quietly.

I was near Trafalgar Sq. today and it was incredible, traffic was stopped, people stopped, . Then I read this and wiped a tear. It's worth a read.



For the world's events have rumbled on since those gagged days,

Like traffic checked while at the crossing of city-ways:

And the haunted gap in your mind has filled with thoughts that flow

Like clouds in the lit heaven of life; and you're a man reprieved to go,

Taking your peaceful share of Time, with joy to spare.

But the past is just the same--and War's a bloody game...

Have you forgotten yet?...

Look down, and swear by the slain of the War that you'll never forget.


Do you remember the dark months you held the sector at Mametz--

The nights you watched and wired and dug and piled sandbags on parapets?

Do you remember the rats; and the stench

Of corpses rotting in front of the front-line trench--

And dawn coming, dirty-white, and chill with a hopeless rain?

Do you ever stop and ask, 'Is it all going to happen again?'


Do you remember that hour of din before the attack--

And the anger, the blind compassion that seized and shook you then

As you peered at the doomed and haggard faces of your men?

Do you remember the stretcher-cases lurching back

With dying eyes and lolling heads--those ashen-grey

Masks of the lads who once were keen and kind and gay?


Have you forgotten yet?...

Look up, and swear by the green of the spring that you'll never forget.


edited for a teenage use of Incredible, like so totally..

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