Memorial Day in Mazeppa is a special day in my storehouse of childhood memories. In fact, I bemoan the fact that in the last ten years I’ve been away more frequently on that final Monday of May than I have been on the fourth Thursday of November. Whether in Kyrgyzstan, Lithuania, Massachusetts, Yellowstone or Montana, the traditions of home inevitably captivate my thoughts on that day.
So I always love it when the foreign places I’m in hold their own Memorial Day traditions. Somehow I feel a bit closer to home, if only for a moment or two.
This past weekend was Remembrance Sunday here in St Andrews in celebration of Veteran’s Day around the world. And like most places, St Andrews has their own Remembrance Sunday traditions. They don’t take long, they don’t extend far, they don’t seem to attract many people, but they warmed my heart that day.
After a morning church service at Holy Trinity, the participating veterans march out of the church preceded by the color guard. In the street, they join the band of bag-pipers and several different military groups in uniform. At the sound of the pipers, the ensemble marches through the cobblestone streets of St Andrews the distance of approximately 100 yards to the War Monument. Once there, poppy wreathes are laid at the foot of the monument, patriotic songs are sung by the onlookers, numbering no more than fifty, and after a mere ten minutes, the celebration is over and the parade participants are dismissed. For those ten minutes though, I felt like I was in Mazeppa.
We didn’t proceed to walk through the cemetery or throw flowers over a bridge or come together for a town potluck at the American Legion, but it was a wonderful day of remembering the cost of lives the wars over the last century have had on Scotland. It’s easy on Memorial Day to remember our own fallen veterans. It was good to be reminded this Remembrance Sunday that nations around the world have sacrificed greatly for the freedom we share throughout the west.
On a side note… I’m not in Montana anymore!
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