The Next Generation

Today marks the 70th anniversary of the D-Day Normandy landings. More than three million Allied servicemen took part in the invasion; 4,000 of whom sadly lost their lives on 6 June 1944 alone. All of them that day, and in the weeks that followed as they pushed across Europe liberating country after country until they finally reached Berlin, lived Churchill's dictum to the full: 'We must rise to the level of events.'

As described here before, my father landed with the Royal Army Service Corps on D-Day +5 in the British zone. He also served immediately after the war in Palestine at Haifa guarding The Exodus; an account of that time is here.

Circumstances prevented us from being in Normandy today or, indeed, Haifa, although we did look seriously at how the latter could be achieved by flying from Cairo to Amman and then crossing the border into Israel at the Allenby Crossing on the Jordan River. However, the risk of severe delay at the border on a Friday prayer day put paid to that venture.

But General Allenby's successors did lead the campaigns in North Africa across the Western Desert which lies close to us. If you were to travel north-westwards from where we're standing you would pass through El Alamein and Tobruk, the site of famous victories achieved under the leadership of Generals Montgomery, Cunningham, Ritchie and Auchinleck, supported ingeniuosly in the wadis by 'The Phantom Major', David Stirling, who created and led the Special Air Service (SAS). So, by being close to one important theatre of war in which many a hard victory was won, we honour the victories achieved in all of them through our forebears' 'blood, sweat and tears'.

I wanted to take a photograph to mark the anniversary that somehow reflects the success of all their endeavours. And what better way than to focus on 'The Next Generation' who reap all the benefits and, indeed, personalise it a little by looking at what Digitaldaze and I both enjoy as a result.

And what is that? Well, Dd and I stand here today in Cairo with our passports in our pockets which enable us to travel the world without the need for permission from our government, or the risk of refusal if we did have to ask. We are both from humble backgrounds but through a meritocratous education system, blind to gender, have followed paths to interesting, challenging and rewarding jobs. We can vote in elections that decide who governs us. And if we are not pleased with their performance we can vote them out the next time, with checks and balances in place that ensure no one abuses power absolutely in the interim period. We can congregate and associate in the streets with whomsoever we wish and voice our support for, or proclaim our dislike of, any subject under the sun. We can openly meet and dine with Jewish friends whose race still exists despite attempts to eliminate it, and appreciate all its various contribution in the fields of science, literature, music, cinema and theatre. I could go on, but the point is that all these freedoms are the servicemen and women's gift to us and our debt of gratitude to them.

Ironically, we stand this very minute in a country where you cannot congregate to protest without permission, where you may be arrested and held without charge for carrying a leaflet in your bag protesting against military trials for civilians, satirical shows are banned from TV, and which is currently appointing seven companies to put every social media site under surveillance looking for dissenters.

President Obama, in a stirring speech today in Collieville-sur-Mer in France, referred to the Normandy landings as being 'democracy's beachhead', and that whenever we feel 'cynical' or 'lose hope' or 'doubt that courage is possible' we should 'stop and think of these men'. Today, thinking on how those men so gallantly rose to the level of events in 1944, we do.

'The Day Thou Gavest, Lord, Has Ended' was played gently as The Queen laid her wreath in Normandy. This link leads you a brass band version that was very similar and couldn't be more moving.