This year, my dad wanted to go to the Remembrance Sunday service in London, so I went with him. There were thousands of people lining Whitehall, and we stood in the cold, autumn sunshine with people of all ages, a few in military uniform, watching the service as it was shown on a huge TV screen for those of us further away. We felt the intensity of the two minutes' silence that began and ended with the sound of a World War One gun being fired; I have rarely known London to be so quiet, especially when it is so crowded.
We walked around, saw the police memorial, went through St James's Park, and watched the march as it went along Horse Guards Road. There were many young schoolchildren who waved at the veterans and civilians marching past, and many veterans waved back. The atmosphere was warm and respectful.
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