I find inspiration in many places and sometime in the last year or two was told about Alfie Boe and the song Bring Him Home from Les Miserables. I have seen “Les Mis” at the Palace Theatre, London with good friends and my best friend Rosemary. I recall the event well, enthralled by the live performances from the stage and the power generated from the fine voices that empowered the audience. When our film director, Casey Williams suggested I re-listen to the song by Alfie Boe, it struck a deep connection for me, one that you can even feel with your eyes.
With my interest in military history on both the front lines and on the home front the thought of home is forever an enchanted message. As the notes first begin, I sense my eyes gently closing, head back slightly and wait for this magical voice to fill my heart, my soul, my person. Home…what does it mean to us, what does it mean to you? It can be a place of joy or sadness, but regardless home is always a place of hope. As the son of a soldier I know what it is like sitting beside a decorated tree with my mother by my side and with my father somewhere else. Now after all these years later thoughts of home become increasingly more powerful as our dear loved ones become more and more meaningful with each passing day.
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Home is to the soldier what home is to all of us, a chance to be whole and to be part of something more than ourselves. As Bring Him Home delivers its message, regardless of the context, it reminds me that we find our own experience in anything that we relate to. It reminds me that everyone feels something differently and that is the beauty of the arts, taking any form, any amount of emotion, making it our own and sharing it with those we love. So as 2014 slips past, remember those who cannot be with us, remember absent family and friends, and provide a kind thought for them as you gently close your eyes, head back and listen to Bring Him Home.
All the best for a grand and fine 2015.
Bring Him Home God on high Hear my prayer In my need You have always been there He is young He's afraid Let him rest Heaven blessed. Bring him home Bring him home Bring him home. He's like the son I might have known If God had granted me a son. The summers die One by one How soon they fly On and on And I am old And will be gone. Bring him peace Bring him joy He is young He is only a boy You can take You can give Let him be Let him live If I die, let me die Let him live Bring him home Bring him home Bring him home
Previously published Pipes of War website, 31 December 2014