Sound the Last Post again, lest we forget the freedom that we cherish has been bought - not found like mushrooms in the field; the debt is ours to pay, mindful of those who fought and fell - yet still they held the torch aloft! May we remain as zealous to withstand the traitors who would make our fibres soft, as well as enemies beyond the land. The trumpet has the power to move us still, and though the debris of a flood of years lies over hand and mind, an aching thrill comes rising perilously close to tears. Sound the Last Post to hold the memory bright, then sound the Rouse and keep the torch alight.

“HIS WAR IS O’ER, HIS SUN IS SET, BUT ONES WHO LOVED HIM, CANNOT FORGET”