As the clock strikes 11am today on this unique Remembrance Sunday, many will stand in silence on their doorsteps due to the intervention of the Coronavirus.

We all remember as 214 boys, standing, usually on that dreich Sunday morning about to parade along to Gordon Park from Bowling Green Rd, frozen to the core.

The older amongst us will remember parading up to the Cenotaph at Victoria Park, prior to the building of the Clydeside Expressway.

My Grandfather Malcolm McColl, who served with the Royal Field Artillery at Ypres (Flanders fields & The Battle of Passchendaele), had the honour of parading with the Congregation of Gordon Park up to the Cenotaph. He was the church wreath bearer for many years, with his son Tom McColl (Cameronian Rifles, Singapore, Malaya), taking over from him on his passing.

We remember sitting upstairs on the BB pews, while Alex MacIver played Flowers of the Forrest in the distance, after the wreaths had been placed at the church memorial.

The youngest amongst us not really understanding the true meaning of those remembrance services and the older ones thankful they never had to endure what their fore-bearers had gone through.

We will remember them.