WHISPERING SMITH: We must and we will remember them…

When the parade is over...
When the parade is over...

The Sunday remembrance service at the Littlehampton War Memorial is an occasion I never miss.

Being there is a chance to say a big thank you to those who served and died as well as to those who served and came home.

But a thank you is not really enough – our servicemen and woman are still in the firing line, still marching in harm’s way to a distant drum banged by politicians and fanatics alike the world over in a seemingly endless battle for territory and the hearts and minds of people, the majority of whom have no greater wish than to live their lives in peace.

That is the way it is and probably always will be.

In my darker moments, I see no end to it.

The breezy autumn morning was as it always seems to be with each passing year, cold but not unbearably so.

The sun shone for a few moments at the start of the Last Post and the lonely call was accompanied by the wind rustled leaves still clinging to the oak tree and through the needles in a nearby pine, but for once the gulls were silent.

Couples supported each other with an arm, little children clung to their parents and old friends were reunited and acknowledged.

Another memorable Sunday morning.


I HAD my ‘children’ and friends down at the weekend and to my surprise no one wanted to watch Graham Norton, Gotham, Stranger Things or twiddle with their iPhone – they simply wanted to play a game of cards, Racing Demons to be precise.

I swear if I had a piano they would have wanted a sing-song, it was that sort of a weekend, great fun, just like old times.


MANY thanks for the interest and your feedback on the Windy Ridge nostalgia piece. I hope to do a little update on that feature somewhere sometime in the near future and your anecdotes will be taken on board.