Andrew Vine: Give silent salute to courage and to continuity

His pitch outside a supermarket had, for many years, been the preserve of a veteran of the Second World War, but long hours standing in the cold did him no good as birthdays passed, and so, in the manner of changing the guard, he handed it over with his blessing.

Now the seller is a veteran not of North Africa and Normandy, but of Northern Ireland and the Falklands. In time, the pitch will probably pass to a veteran of Iraq and Afghanistan.

These successive generations of brave men remind us that today, this very special day, is as much about continuity as commemorating the events of the past.

As long as men – and, increasingly, women – volunteer for the services and put their lives on the line for the sake of the greater good, and ultimately the safety of those they hold most dear back home, Armistice Day should be a salute to that selfless spirit as well as to the fallen.

The 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month has special resonance in this year of milestone anniversaries, notably the centenary of the start of the First World War, but the 70th anniversary of the D-Day landings as well.

Hearteningly, more people than ever appear to have woken up to its significance, perhaps as a result of the dignified commemorations of those anniversaries.

Ten years ago, the modest factory in Richmond, south-west London, where the Royal British Legion produces poppies of remembrance manufactured 30 million of them. This year, it has made half as many again – 45 million, proof positive that as the years pass, more and more Britons wish to honour this country’s Armed Services.

That is why our poppy seller was in such a good mood. He has sold more poppies this year than last, and increasing numbers of people stop to chat and ask what the ribbons on his chest are.

Those people probably paused two days ago, on Remembrance Sunday, or felt a lump in the throat as they saw the wreaths being laid at their local war memorial, or the television coverage of the Queen leading the nation’s commemorations at the Cenotaph.

Marking today’s anniversary of the moment that the First World War ended 96 years ago has grown more widespread over the past decade or so as increasing numbers of people have paused to remember those who made the ultimate sacrifice.

There was a time when 11am on Armistice Day flew by without a lot of people noticing, even those who observed a silence on Remembrance Sunday. But gradually, the observance of that moment when the guns finally fell silent at the end of the most brutal war the world had seen has regained its place in the public’s consciousness. In shops and workplaces, people are invited to pause, and they do.

The protracted conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan have surely been an influence, underlining at painful human cost that war is not only a part of our country’s history but a cruel component of the present.

That may be one of the reasons why millions have flocked to see the most magnificent – and profoundly moving – piece of public art to be created in living memory.

The sea of ceramic poppies that has surrounded the Tower of London moved many visitors to tears, because the artist who created it, Paul Cummins and Tom Piper achieved what seemed to be an impossible task – encapsulating the scale of the carnage wrought by the Great War.

Blood Swept Lands and Seas of Red, with its 888,246 poppies, each representing a British and Commonwealth soldier killed has stopped visitors in their tracks, reduced them to silence, given a sudden flash of insight, and most importantly, made them think about the consequences of war.

In creating such an impact, Mr Cummins has done Britain a service as well as paying tribute to the fallen. And, of course, sales of the ceramic poppies have raised millions for charities which help ex-service personnel.

But we don’t need to travel to London to pay our respects to the fallen, or survivors whose lives have been blighted by conflict. We can do so by buying a poppy and wearing it with pride. Equally importantly, we should do so by observing a few moments of stillness.

Today, at 11am, let’s put our hectic world on hold for a couple of minutes. Let the emails go unanswered and the tweets unsent. Postpone updating Facebook until 11.02. Set aside all thoughts of what needs to be done at work, or at home.

Just for those two minutes, let’s all be silent and reflect on what that sea of ceramic poppies at the Tower – or the paper poppy pinned to our lapel – represents. Let’s give thanks to all those who never came back from everywhere from Flanders to Afghanistan – and those who continue to serve – for our freedom to pause and remember them.