Ypres Remembrance Day

A group of us from Andorra had been invited by the Anglican vicar of St Georges, Ypres to attend the November 11th Memorial service. On the day, we were told to follow him closely in the Remembrance parade. This was made easy by his flowing, poppy-red robes. As we approached the Menin Gate I saw no way we could get through the crowds. I decided to peal off to the left and try my luck there. Eventually I was brought to a standstill beside a suited, straight-backed gentleman with a tightly rolled umbrella. I glanced at him. He was wearing my father's Regimental tie. I said "Excuse me. Were you in the Parachute Regiment?" He looked at me rather coldly. "Yes." I'd forgotten, we hadn't actually been introduced. "Were you at Arnhem?" He unbent a little. "Yes." and gave a slight smile. "Did you know my father, Sheriff Thompson?" "Know him? He was my commanding officer! A wonderful man!" And he went on to wax lyrical about him. The crowd at the Gate that day was many thousand strong. Serendipity. But without action, my talking to him, nothing would have happened.