Every November there is a little piece of me that cries for those that we have lost. For me, some of it is personal, as it is for others. But we do it. We stand there and we honour our (lost) friends.
And inside us, a little piece of us is screaming . So we stand there, at Attention, as we hear the Last Post played; some of us hold the Salute until Reveille is played (and we try not to cry).
Then we turn and we march away to survive another year. We don't forget our lost friends, we place them somewhere safe such that we don't fall apart and such that they KNOW we won't fall apart. THAT's how we care for them, THAT'S how we keep them alive.