Lights were doused for an hour, inspired by the words of the wartime foreign
secretary, Sir Edward Grey, as he gazed at the lamps being lit in St James’s
Park: ‘The lamps are going out all over Europe; we shall not see them lit
again in our lifetime.”
Meanwhile, in Belgium, David Cameron described it as a conflict of
“unspeakable carnage, unbearable loss and almost unbelievable bravery”
fought “to preserve the principles of freedom and sovereignty that we
cherish today”.
He was speaking at an event at the St Symphorien Military Cemetery in Mons,
Belgium, also attended by the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge and Prince
Harry.
Mons was the scene of the first major engagement for the British in the war.
Earlier in the day, the Duke of Cambridge attended a service in Liège, where
he thanked Belgium for holding off the German invasion, which had allowed
the Allies to regroup.
The Duke reminded the audience of the words of Edith Cavell, a British nurse
who saved soldiers on both sides of the trenches.
She wrote: “I must have no hatred or bitterness towards anyone.”
He said: “It took another terrible war to learn the truth of her words, and
even today we continue to learn that lesson. The events in Ukraine testify
to the fact that instability continues to stalk our continent.” But he
praised “the power of reconciliation”.
“We were enemies more than once in the last century, and today we are friends
and allies,” he said. “We salute those who died to give us our freedom. We
will remember them.”
In his speech, Mr Cameron said: “100 years on, it is right that collectively
we stop; we pause; and we repledge this for the next 100 years. We will
never forget.”
At Westminster Abbey, a service attended by 1,700 people including High
Commissioners from all the Commonwealth countries, sundry ambassadors of
nations, Ed Miliband, Nick Clegg and representatives from the Armed Forces
and charities including the Royal British Legion and Help For Heroes.
It was a service, Dr John Hall, the Dean of Westminster noted in his opening
address, to reflect not only on valour and sacrifice, but “the failure of
the human spirit that led to an inexorable slide into war”.
On each seat in the Abbey, lay a candle in a holder, which members of the
congregation held aloft through the service, extinguishing them as four
symbolic candles, marking the minutes to the declaration of war, were
extinguished.
The Abbey was a sea of flickering light, growing dimmer, as if to mirror the
gathering clouds of war.
The smoke from the extinguished candles filled the air, as smoke from the
battlefield. The day’s commemorations had begun at a service for the
Commonwealth at Glasgow Cathedral, attended by The Prince of Wales, David
Cameron, Alex Salmond and Commonwealth heads of government, as well as UK
and Irish politicians.
The service, which featured hymns, poetry and readings from the diaries of
soldiers who fought and died in the war, was followed by a procession to the
cenotaph in the city’s George Square for a wreath-laying ceremony.
The Rev Dr Laurence Whitley told the 1,400 guests in the 12th century
cathedral: “We meet because on a summer’s day like this one, one hundred
years ago, the world changed.
“Our nations and peoples found themselves in a war the like of which had never
before been experienced, and the memory of which still haunts us all.
“In this, the first of many services of commemoration and remembrance of the
Great War to be held today and over the next four years, we have come to bow
before God, to pray for peace and goodwill amongst the nations, to honour,
to remember and to learn.”
The congregation was reminded that in Britain, men flocked to enlist in their
thousands, as community after community responded to the call to serve.
Within weeks, the broadcaster Sir Trevor McDonald told the service, regulars
and territorials from almost every part of England, Scotland, Ireland and
Wales were on the Western Front.
Of almost 1,000 battalions raised, nearly 600 were so-called ‘Pals’
battalions, he said. “Those from a local area who enlisted together were
grouped to serve in a particular battalion, rather than being spread
randomly throughout the army. The policy fostered comradeship, but later led
to heart-rendingly disproportionate losses among individual communities and
families.”
In Edinburgh, the whole of the first two teams of Heart of Midlothian Football
Club, along with many members of the boardroom and staff, enlisted in the
16th Battalion of the Royal Scots (Lothian Regiment), and Glasgow provided
battalions for the Highland Light Infantry from its Tramways and the Boys
Brigade.
Altogether, the conflict claimed the lives of around 145,000 Scots, leaving
many more thousands injured or disabled.
Sir Trevor also listed the sacrifice of the “Commonwealth brothers and
sisters”. More than a million Indians served overseas, with 54,000 losing
their lives.
Around 60,000 from the African continent fought for the Allied forces, with
7,000 fatalities, while 59,000 of the 416,000 Australian men who enlisted
lost their lives.
From across the Atlantic, 645,000 Canadians and 6,200 Newfoundlanders
enlisted, and suffered 66,0000 dead and 177,0000 wounded.
Giant images of candles were also be projected on to buildings including
Battersea Power Station in London and the Royal Liver Building in Liverpool
during “lights out” hour.
At Folkestone, from where hundreds of thousands of servicemen and women set
sail for France and Belgium and an uncertain fate, thousands of people lined
the streets to watch a military and civilian parade.
The event, which marked the unveiling of a memorial arch, was attended by
Prince Harry and Michael Fallon, the Defence Secretary, who spoke of “the
opportunity to commemorate the spirit of the British people, our
determination to fight for what is just, and our willingness to lay down our
lives in name of our country”.
More than 200,000 Irish-born soldiers served in the British Army and Navy from
1914 to 1918. Many from Northern Ireland enlisted in the 36th (Ulster)
Division, which fought at the Battle of the Somme in July 1916.
The division suffered 5,500 men killed, wounded or missing in two days of
fighting.
Winston Churchill, who was then First Lord of the Admiralty — would later
describe the events of the night of August 4, as the ultimatum demanding
that Germany should respect the neutrality of Belgium expired, and war was
declared.
“Along the Mall from the direction of the Palace the sound of an immense
concourse singing ‘God save the King’ flouted in. On this deep wave there
broke the chimes of Big Ben; and, as the first stroke of the hour boomed
out, a rustle of movement swept across the room.
The war telegram, which meant, ‘Commence hostilities against Germany’, was
flashed to the ships and establishments under the White Ensign all over the
world. I walked across the Horse Guards Parade to the Cabinet room and
reported to the Prime Minister and the Ministers who were assembled there
that the deed was done.”
It was a moment given poignant definition in Wilfred Owen’s poem, 1914, which
was read in Westminster Abbey by the actor David Morrisey. “Now begin,
Famines of thought and feeling. Love’s wines thin. The grain of human Autumn
rots, hurled down.”
Owen’s was one of a number of poems and letters from those at the Front, and
at home, read during the service.
Another was Wilfrid Wilson Gibson’s, The Messages: “Stone-deaf and dazed, and
with a broken knee,
He hobbled slowly, muttering vacantly:
“I cannot quite remember…. There were five
Dropt dead beside me in the trench, and three
Whispered their dying messages to me….’
In its editorial leader of Aug 4, 1914, acknowledging that the slow march to
the edge of the precipice, and over it, could no longer be averted, this
newspaper wrote that: “Suspense is at an end at last, and every Briton with
the stuff of manhood in him will hear the news with relief.”
Patriotism. Valour. ‘The stuff of manhood’. Naivety giving way to horror. In
Westminster Abbey, as Big Ben struck, and the last candle was extinguished,
a single abiding thought seemed to hang in the air. Will we never learn.