Musings about Tradition in the Catholic Church in England and Wales, and an attempt to collect essays and articles which would appear in a Catholic press which exercised critical solidarity with the Hierarchy.
This is a photo I took last week at the National Memorial Arboretum near Lichfield in Staffordshire. It is part of the memorial to those who worked as slaves on the Sumatra Railway.
My father fought the Japanese and was luckier than those who were captured and forced into slave labour, in that he was never captured. Luckier too, in his lights, and in those of his comrades, in that they were able to fight back, to recover from the disasters of 1942 and gradually force the Japanese back.
Much, much, more lucky, though, because they had priests who brought God to thm. In the jungles of New Guinea, priests could still say Mass for soldiers.
Remembrance Sunday is next Sunday, and the official celebrations will take place then. Tomorrow, though, at 11.00, I, and I imagine, most of my colleagues will stop work and make an act of remembrance. Spare a prayer tomorrow for miliary chaplains.