In the First World War, red poppies quickly grew over the graves of the fallen soldiers at Ypres. This resulted in the poppy becoming one of the World’s most recognized memorial symbols for soldiers who have died in conflict.

In Australia, Remembrance Day on the 11th November is also called Poppy Day. People wear a poppy in remembrance of all those young men who gave their lives for their countries.

In New Zealand where I grew up we always wore the red poppy on Anzac Day in April. I later found out that wearing the poppy on Anzac Day in NZ came about because for the first remembrance day a shipment of paper poppies arrived too late for the 11th November, so they were kept and sold for Anzac Day.

I remember a conversation I had with my great-aunt Hilda, when she was 100 years old. She was showing me some photos and showed me a photo of a very young man in uniform.

“This is the beautiful Charlie, he was my cousin and he died in the First World War. He was such a lovely young man,” she told me.

“Not only Charlie died, but my other two cousins, his brothers. There were three boys in the family and they all died in the war. Their father never got over losing all his boys,” she said, wiping tears from her face.

I sat there and shed a tear with her for all the beautiful young men who died too young. I shed a tear for Charlie.

Remembrance Day has been observed since the end of the First World War to remember the members of the armed forces who died in the line of duty.

I always think of my Uncle Rex, who was one of the lucky ones to survive WWII. He was injured in the Battle of El Alamein. When he was in the ambulance being taken to the Field Hospital the ambulance took a hit and the driver was decapitated. My uncle survived but he was never the same, the slightest bang and he would always jump in fright.

I raise a glass to you today dear Uncle Rex, always in my thoughts.