All is well
We buried The Good Colonel yesterday; a very old stone church in a small Wiltshire village was filled with his friends and family; when the church was full they gathered around the porch, filling the churchyard; with gold braid, medals and boots shining in the autumn sun. A lone piper played "Flowers of the Forest", Artillery boots clicking on the cold stone floor as the flag covered coffin was brought in. A brave young boy turned into a man as he read "All is Well" for his father. "I vow to thee my country" and "Jerusalem" the hymns of course. Then out into the green churchyard where he was buried in sight of the rolling downs. The "Last Post" and then back to the marquee on the tennis lawn of the old Manor House for tea and sympathy. Afterwards to the Pub for many pints of "It's what he would have wanted". I feel shattered.