When I grew up in Folkestone, my grandfather took me to the top of a road leading down to the sea. It is now called the Road of Remembrance, but was constructed to lead down to a new built pier, for the young men to march down to the ships that would take them to Flanders during WW1. He taught me to see them all, marching down there, the last time they were on British soil. The road was planted with great clumps of rosemary for remembrance, though now only traces of that hedge remain. Every year in November, when we have our equivalent of Memorial Day, I see them again. You have brought them back to mind now.