Yesterday, Yavar Abbas, a 104 year old veteran of the so-called “Forgotten Army” did something unexpected at the VJ commemoration. Invited to read from his diaries during the ceremony, he first apologised for going off-script.
Visibly emotional, he raised his hand in salute. “My King,” he said, as he paid tribute to His Majesty and thanked him for ensuring that the efforts of his grandfather King George VI’s Fourteenth Army, were not forgotten. It was deeply moving, and a reminder of why acts of remembrance matter.
It was a profound honour to be at the National Memorial Arboretum as we marked 80 years since Victory over Japan Day. We were there to remember those who brought the Second World War to an end. To pay tribute to a generation that served far from home, in conditions few of us today can imagine. And to remind ourselves that memory is not guaranteed, it must be protected.
I had the privilege of sitting beside Desmond Heath, a centenarian who served in the Intelligence Corps and fought in Burma. Like many of the veterans I met, he was a living embodiment of courage and resilience. For them, this commemoration carried a particular weight. They spoke of how when the war in Eur
ope ended, those still fighting in Asia and the Far East were left behind -not just in geography, but in the public’s imagination.
The fighting and much suffering continued for months after VE Day, through jungle, heat, disease, and loss. The war in the Pacific ended only after enormous devastation when the atomic bombs were dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
The Fourteenth Army, the principal British-led force in the region, was one of the most remarkable multinational armies in history. According to the Royal British Legion, nearly 85 per cent of its soldiers were volunteers who came from pre-partition India, Pakistan, Bangladesh and Nepal. The Royal British Legion says they served alongside predominantly British and Burmese units and almost 100,000 troops from African divisions from countries including Nigeria, Ghana and Uganda. It was a Commonwealth force, in the truest sense.
For many of these soldiers, the war was distant from their countries of origin. Some did not fully understand what they were fighting for. And yet they went. Sir Ben Okri read a poem, “Burma, 1945: Sacrifice” at the service which captured this feeling. They may not have believed it was their war, but they fought regardless, because they refused to let the world slip into chaos.
That sense of duty transcends borders and time. We remember them not just to honour the past, but to protect the future. Because forgetting weakens us. When we forget what was endured, we forget what was secured. We also allow political agitators and revisionists with their false narratives to rewrite history.
We must remember because peace is not permanent. Because unity is fragile. Because the freedom we enjoy today was built on the sacrifice of men who had no guarantee of returning home. Many didn’t.
We also remember because this might be our last chance to hear these stories directly from those who lived them. Their voices are fewer in number. But our responsibility is greater than ever.
The British and Commonwealth forces in the Pacific gave more than most can comprehend. Over 30,000 British troops were killed or wounded. Thousands more suffered imprisonment, torture, starvation and disease. For those who survived, returning home took months. Some had been overseas for five years or more.
Today’s world is uncertain, and increasingly divided. But our history holds lessons worth holding on to. We must teach them clearly, honestly, and often.
Remembering is not nostalgia. It is a civic duty. And it is up to all of us to carry it out.
Thank you to the Royal British Legion for helping us celebrate and commemorate our veterans in such a special way.
I was proud to play my part today. Not just as a politician, but as a proud Brit who believes our past still speaks to us. Loudly, clearly and with purpose.
