A poignant thank you to a heroic generation

This VE Day 80 parade was a celebration that paid its respects, with some poignancy, to the wartime generation. There was an understated warmth that suited the moment.

This week’s events will be one the last big public moments of recognition for the diminishing number of veterans from World War Two.

For Monday’s events, veterans had pride of place on a viewing platform at the top of the Mall, sitting alongside the Royal Family and the prime minister, watching the military parade and marching bands.

These veterans are now in their late 90s and older, commemorating an event which took place when many were still only teenagers.

In today’s fragile political climate there is often talk about defending democracy.

But these veterans had actually done that and won, and remain now as some of the last representatives of a generation that fought Nazism and all of the intolerance and barbarism that represented.

Many of those who had cared for others were now reliant on carers for themselves. It’s a different kind of battle.

On the viewing platform King Charles was chatting to Joy Trew, a wireless operator in the Women’s Auxiliary Air Force, who was 18 on VE Day in 1945. This summer she will be 99 years old.

She said the King had helped tuck in a blanket to keep her warm on a chilly day. And she had told the King about the other female veterans: “A lot of the women look formidable and he said ‘yes’.”

After the modern RAF paid its own tribute with a thundering flypast, the veterans were slowly wheeled across to Palace, in one last column.

They were heading for a tea party held in their honour, with the King and Queen and Prince and Princess of Wales hearing first hand stories that will soon slip into history.

Joyce Wilding, aged 100, remembered the celebrations in London on VE Day: “We went to Piccadilly where there was a stream of people singing and dancing, there were soldiers up lampposts, it was extraordinary.

“We were outside Buckingham Palace and you could hardly move there were so many people cheering and singing.”

In that euphoric moment, the King’s mother, the late Queen Elizabeth II, then 19, had also secretly gone out among the crowds and had been part of a conga at the Ritz hotel.

Among the older guests was Henry Ducker, now aged 104, who was only 19 when he joined the RAF in 1940, working as a flight mechanic. He had spent VE Day in Italy.

He said Queen Camilla had been “quite funny, very humorous”.

This 80th anniversary event had drawn big crowds along the Mall. They had given a particularly warm welcome to the Ukrainian contingent in the parade, carrying the blue and yellow flag of their country. It was a sharp reminder of present conflicts as well as those from the past.

The King had stood on the viewing platform, saluting the different military formations as they marched past. Was he thinking of his own grandfather, George VI, who had waved from the balcony on the original VE night?

Compared with reports of the feverish celebrations in 1945, these were relatively restrained crowds at this commemorative event. They were quietly paying their respects, many perhaps with their own thoughts and memories.

As is often the case with modern crowds, many were more interested in taking photos on their phones than cheering.

There is also an unmistakable growing distance in time.

Prince George was at Buckingham Palace for the tea party for veterans, listening in to the stories. But it’s a long way back for his generation, with a 68-year gap between his birth and VE Day.

It’s the same distance as between his father Prince William’s birth and the outbreak of the First World War.

There were nostalgic street parties, but when younger generations hear about “spam” they’ll be thinking about their email rather than the food cupboard.

This first big day of VE Day 80 commemorations caught the sense of reflection. The mood in London was good natured and supportive. Even the rain held off until the parade was over.

There were neighbourhood gatherings, from local community groups to Downing Street, celebrating the wartime spirit and a sense of togetherness.

And such public events might be a chance to privately remember those who had made sacrifices without ever seeking recognition.

It’s a moment when memories are passed from one generation to the next and stories turn into history.