National two-minute silence to be held for 80th anniversary of VJ Day
A service of remembrance held at the National Memorial Arboretum in Staffordshire on August 15 will feature 400 members of the armed forces, the Red Arrows and historic aircraft from the Battle of Britain Memorial Flight.
A national silence will be observed at noon.
Four days of events were held in May to commemorate the 80th anniversary of VE Day, which marked the end of the Second World War in Europe.
But 80 years ago, thousands of British and Commonwealth military personnel continued to fight Japanese forces in Asia and the Pacific for a further three months.
The service of remembrance will be run in partnership with the Royal British Legion (RBL) and will be attended by Second World War veterans, VJ association members, senior politicians and military personnel, the Department for Culture, Media and Sport said.
Second World War veteran and RBL ambassador Tom Berry, 101, from Cheshire, who was serving on HMS Tartar in the Pacific when Japan surrendered, said: 'For veterans like me and all those who carried on fighting until VJ Day was announced, this will be a very emotional day – a moment in history.
'I'll be watching the service at home, and I'd ask the country to do the same – to stop and remember all those who gave so much for our freedoms, and those who never made it back.'
Culture Secretary Lisa Nandy said: 'Those who continued to fight bravely in Asia and the Pacific in those last few months of the Second World War must never be forgotten.
'It is so important for us as a nation to come together on this important anniversary to remember our VJ Day veterans and hear their stories first-hand so we can ensure that their legacy is passed on to future generations and their sacrifice is never forgotten.'
Defence Secretary John Healey said: 'VJ Day was the final victory in a war that changed the world, and we honour those who served in the Far East with enduring gratitude.
'Just as we proudly marked VE Day, we reflect on the courage, sacrifice and resilience shown by so many to secure peace.
'Their legacy must never be forgotten, and it's our duty to pass their stories on to future generations.'
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The National
8 hours ago
- The National
Renowned artist's work 'should be moved from Tate Modern to Scotland'
The two pieces by John Latham – a 20th century British-Northern Rhodesian artist – were purchased by the London gallery in 1976. The first piece, Derelict Land Art: Five Sisters, is a panel with 16 photographs which show views of one of several shale heaps (known as Bings) which Latham studied in the Midlothian and West Lothian regions while on a placement with the Scottish Government agency, the Scottish Development Department. John Latham (Image: Getty Images) During his time as a civil servant there – as part of the Artist's Placement Group, which worked to place artists in administrative organisations – Latham considered the problem of derelict land, and wrote a report recommending the preservation of five of the Bing sites as monuments. The second piece is the Five Sisters Bing, a sculpture of five books spread out onto a flat book, which resembles the shape and appearance of the Five Sisters Bing, a heap of red shale with five summits which spans across 56 acres at West Calder in West Lothian. READ MORE: Fundraiser gig announced for Glasgow DJ diagnosed with untreatable brain tumour The pieces were first displayed by the Tate Modern in 1976, the year that they were created by Latham. Calls to move the artwork to Scotland have been made ahead of a new community space which is set to open in West Calder next year. Campaigners hope that the artwork can be displayed at the new Scottish Co-op Discovery Centre, a heritage attraction which is set to open in a historic building. Angela Constance, MSP for Almond Valley and Scottish Government Justice Secretary, has written to Constitution, External Affairs and Culture Secretary Angus Robertson to seek advice on how to return the artwork to Scotland. Angela Constance (Image: PA) In her letter, Constance said: "It is important for the heritage of the community that the artwork is returned and displayed at the Scottish Co-op Discovery Centre as requested by the local development trust. "West Lothian has a long and proud tradition of cooperation. It is in this spirit that we request the return of John Latham's artwork to its rightful home in West Calder." Constance added that she would "welcome any assistance your office can provide in securing the safe return of this artwork to my constituency of Almond Valley". READ MORE: £250m cash injection for nukes branded 'gimmick' as Ian Murray makes Scotland trip Constance's calls were echoed by the Scottish Co-Operative Discovery Centre, which said it "seem[ed] right" that it served as the permanent home for Latham's work. Matt Pearce, the centre's project director, said: "The display spaces in the new Discovery Centre actually look out over The Five Sisters Bing and it was shale miners who started West Calder Co-operative. "It just seems right that the artwork finds a permanent home here in our community and where anyone can appreciate it." A Scottish Government spokesperson told The National: 'As the artwork was purchased by the Tate, it is legally owned by them. "An approach for a loan or purchase would need to be made directly to Tate Modern.'
Telegraph
10 hours ago
- Telegraph
My cousin was the ‘Angel of Mostar' – 30 years on she's delivering aid in Gaza and Ukraine
My cousin Sally Becker had a strange recurring nightmare during childhood. Someone was about to remove her leg in hospital and she needed to escape. It instilled in her a long-term fear of losing a limb. But it somehow never stopped her from putting herself in countless situations where this might come to pass. Given the existence she has led in the past three decades, repeatedly entering war zones to save the lives of children caught up in bloody conflicts, it feels like a small miracle she's here at all. Since her early 30s, she's been shot in the leg, inhaled chlorine gas, gone on hunger strike in a Kosovo jail and crossed borders under sniper fire. She has helped evacuate civilians from Bosnia, Chechnya, Kosovo, Iraq, Syria, Ukraine and Gaza. Witnessed the worst of human suffering and carried on, even when her freelance humanitarian missions threatened to become engulfed in red tape and resistance. Facing her for the first time in her tidy sitting room in Hove, East Sussex, I'm struck by how much like the rest of my family she is in appearance and manner. And yet how unlike the rest of us, hurling herself into life-threatening environments from which most would recoil in horror. She was dubbed the Angel of Mostar when she first came to prominence during the Balkans conflict in the early 1990s. The story of this plucky British woman driving an ambulance across the frontline in Bosnia to evacuate sick and injured children captured the public imagination. It captured mine too, not least because she's my father's first cousin, and my first cousin once removed. For years I had heard of her exploits and wondered how she did it. Marvelled at the genetic shake-down that meant she fearlessly entered war zones, while I very much did not. Had she always been so intrepid, so undaunted by danger? 'I was a bit worried,' she says, recalling the days before she set off on her very first mission, a typically understated and down-to-earth response. A bit worried is how I feel before a mild-thrill theme park ride. Sally, now in her 60s, is discussing how she felt when she ignored the warning of her father (my great-uncle Jack) and hitched a ride to war-torn Bosnia with a humanitarian aid convoy. 'You can't get insurance for dismemberment!' her dad called to her from the hallway before she left. He thought she'd lost her mind. My cousin was undeterred. After what she calls a 'fairly normal' childhood in Brighton, the second of four children, Sally had spent her 20s travelling and working as an artist. She was living on the Costa del Sol in Spain by the time the break-up of Yugoslavia at the start of the 1990s led to violent struggle between Serbs, Muslims and Croats. As opposing ethnic groups fought for territory, families that had lived alongside each other as neighbours found themselves on opposite sides of a brutal civil war. 'I didn't even know where Bosnia was,' Sally admits. But one April afternoon in 1993, a news broadcast stopped her in her tracks. The moment her life changed direction forever came when a civilian in war-torn Sarajevo – a woman accompanied by a little boy – looked straight into the camera and asked, 'Why is no-one helping us?' Sally took it personally. 'It resonated with me,' she says. 'I felt like she was speaking to me directly, and I thought, 'Well yeah, why aren't I doing something?' So I decided I would.' In her new memoir, Where Angels Fear to Tread, she tells the incredible story of what happened next. It's the story of a life spent going where the need was greatest, however perilous this was. Of taking huge personal risks to help as many people as possible. Of doing what she could to 'make a difference', as it's now known. 'People didn't really use that term then,' she reflects, 'but perhaps that's what I'd always wanted to do but hadn't found a way.' Becoming the 'angel' She had thought of becoming a doctor when she was younger. But when she asked her GP if she could borrow his books, he just laughed. Lacking both medical experience and engineering skills, she was turned away by various humanitarian organisations. Only when she approached a Croatian one called Suncokret was she finally accepted as a volunteer. Suncokret arranged for her to join a convoy of trucks setting off from Godstone in Surrey in May 1993 and travelling overland to the Balkans. 'I thought I'd be there for two or three weeks,' she says. 'Instead, here we are, 30-odd years later.' Delivering aid to a hospital under the control of Croat forces on the west side of the historic Bosnian city of Mostar, Sally saw wards 'filled with scarred and bandaged victims of the war raging less than a mile away,' she writes, in prose that capture the hell of armed conflict and its impact on civilians, as seen from the closest quarters. Lodging in a hotel in Čitluk, 14 miles from Mostar, she was kept awake at night by the sound of missiles. It didn't scare her away, and she spent those first weeks in Bosnia ferrying aid to the hospital and helping a community living close to the frontline. By June, divided Mostar was under siege from the Croatian Defence Council (HVO). They controlled access to the city and international aid organisations couldn't get in. Sally was determined. At the hospital she met the head of the Croatian Military Health Authorities, Dr Ivan Bagarić. She told him she and her colleagues had hired a car, a white Renault 4, but needed permission to pass through the checkpoints in Croat-controlled areas. Dr Bagarić obliged, meaning Sally was able to drive back and forth from Čitluk to Mostar delivering aid – seemingly the only foreign aid worker at that time who could. One day, a member of the UN Civil Police told her of the plight of a three-year-old Muslim boy living in East Mostar. He was suffering a serious heart problem and desperately needed surgery. Could Sally use her apparent influence with the Croats to obtain permission to evacuate him, asked the officer. Dr Bagarić gave her permission to do so, 'Not for one child but for all the sick and wounded children and their mothers,' he said. It marked a turning point in Sally's war work. 'I would have risked my life to save just one child,' she writes. 'Ivan was giving me a chance to save them all.' A ceasefire was arranged and Sally set off in an ambulance, steering around the spikes of deadly mines that protruded from the road. Crossing a disused airfield, she came under sniper fire and terror truly struck her for the first time. She was convinced she would be killed. 'Actually being in control of a vehicle which was being targeted by snipers was awful,' she says. 'I had a ceasefire arranged so I didn't expect to be shot at, it was totally unexpected. I just acted on instinct and decided to carry on driving while ducking beneath the steering wheel and putting my foot down.' She remembered from films how cars swerved to and fro to avoid being hit by gunfire. She did the same and somehow escaped injury. The mission was ultimately a success, resulting in the evacuation of five injured and sick children, who were taken to Italy and then the US for medical care. It made headlines around the world. The 'angel' moniker was coined, and it stuck. I was at primary school at the time and knew nothing of the Balkans and only a little about that side of my father's family. We lived in Leeds, far from the Beckers in Brighton, who my dad used to visit as a child. I heard about the Angel of Mostar and felt proud to be related to her, even if I didn't actually know where Mostar was. We learnt of Sally's exploits from the media, and no doubt also from my grandmother (her aunt). It all seemed exciting, if remote. I had no grasp of the danger she was in. Then, in July 2012, I was watching the opening ceremony of the London Olympics and suddenly there she was. Dressed in white, my cousin was one of eight notable figures carrying the Olympic flag into the stadium while the world watched. She walked alongside Ban Ki-Moon, then secretary-general of the UN , Shami Chakrabarti, then head of civil rights group Liberty and others. 'Oh my gosh,' I said, 'it's Sally Becker! Did we know she was going to be there?' It came as a surprise to me, but perhaps it shouldn't have. She had ended up evacuating about 300 children from Bosnia during the conflict, and had spent the years since then engaged in similar activities in other war zones. The numbers she saved had climbed into the hundreds. It was, she explains, that initial breakthrough in Bosnia that spurred her on. 'Suddenly finding that I was able to save a life changed everything for me,' she says. 'I felt like I was finally doing something worthwhile.' 'I didn't give death much thought' The publicity her work in Bosnia received helped draw attention to the plight of civilians but didn't come without criticism. The UN, she says, made out she was some kind of maverick. 'They said, 'We can't have every granny in a bus turning up.'' (She was in her early 30s at the time.) She describes the negativity she encountered from some as 'frustrating', more because it was unhelpful to what she was trying to achieve than because it was hurtful. Doing what she has done must require immense reserves of mental fortitude. But on the sunny spring day when I visit her, I learn she is far from immune to the inevitable physical hardships of working in war zones. Her friends called her 'the wimp of Mostar', she smiles. 'It's not that I get scared easily, it's that I don't like walking, I don't like being cold, I'm not into camping or sitting on uncomfortable chairs. I'm really a bit of a pain. But out there I had to face all those things and a lot more.' The distaste for uncomfortable chairs is understandable, given an episode in Kosovo, another part of the former Yugoslavia where ethnic tension had been escalating since 1993. It erupted into open conflict in March 1998 between Serb police and the separatist Kosovo Liberation Army (KLA). In December 1997, Sally started a campaign to raise money for aid and medical supplies to help civilians in the province. She appealed for British volunteers to join her on the mission, and set off with them in a convoy of ambulances and trucks from Brighton to deliver several tonnes of aid. In June 1998, after fighting had intensified, the borders to Kosovo were closed so she decided to bring the aid to some of the thousands of refugees who had fled to Albania. With 26 volunteers aged 30 to 65, she drove to the port of Bari in Italy, then boarded a ferry to the country. When the aid had been delivered and the rest of the convoy was returning home, Sally crossed the mountains on foot with a guide, to deliver paediatric medical supplies to a hospital in Junik, a town in western Kosovo surrounded by Serb forces. Here she was asked to evacuate sick and injured children and their families back across the border to Albania. It would be a hazardous journey, but she agreed and set out on foot with two guides and a group of 24 women and children. Those who weren't well enough to walk were carried on mules. Resting in woods at the border, they heard machine gun fire tear through the air. A helicopter gunship appeared overhead. While the rest of the group made it safely back to Junik, Sally stayed to help a woman and two children. After they were pinned down by gunfire for an hour, she surrendered and was arrested and taken to a police station in Gjakova in Kosovo. The Serb paramilitary police interrogated her while forcing her to sit for three days and three nights on a broken chair that could only be prevented from toppling if she balanced using her feet (an ordeal she blames for back problems she suffers today). Brought before a local judge, she was sentenced to 30 days in Lipljan Prison for crossing the border without a visa. She must have known she might not survive some of these situations. Must have reckoned with the prospect of death but somehow either accepted it or pushed it aside? 'I was always an optimist,' she shrugs. 'So I probably didn't give it much thought.' 'I'll do it as long as I can' After Kosovo, Sally became a single mother to a daughter, Billie, now 25. I was informed of this development, oddly, by my GCSE history teacher who had read about my cousin in the news. Looking back now, I realise that while I was sitting through history lessons, she was making history and not just headlines. Billie's father was Bill Foxton, a decorated former soldier who worked in conflict zones around the world and who Sally had met in Kosovo, but the relationship didn't last. If Sally had to go away, she left Billie with her mother back home. But motherhood raised the stakes. 'It became much more frightening because there was so much more to lose,' she says. 'Apart from my mum, Billie only had me.' Still, in 2017, she travelled to Mosul in Iraq, again to help evacuate women and children caught in the crossfire as Iraqi forces fought to take the city back from Isis. 'I didn't tell [Billie] I was going to Mosul until I got back,' she says. 'The possibility that [if I was captured] she might see me being held by Isis dressed in an orange jumpsuit doesn't bear thinking about.' Does her daughter ever try to talk her out of going into conflict zones? 'No, she doesn't, she knows it's pointless,' she laughs. Fortunately she can now help save lives remotely as well as in the field, having set up an app called Save A Child, which connects doctors in conflict zones with an international network of specialist paediatric consultants. It enables doctors in remote places, such as parts of Afghanistan, to upload paediatric case histories and receive expert advice on how to treat a child. The app hasn't kept her at home though. In the last few years she has been to Ukraine and helped evacuate 240 children and mothers, and briefly to Egypt to help evacuate nine injured Palestinian children and their families from Gaza. Sitting in her comfortable home on a quiet and leafy residential street near the southern English coast, I wonder how she adjusts each time she returns. She's done it for so long, she says, that it doesn't feel jarring, not really. 'It's more that when I get back I think, 'Oh my goodness, I can have whatever I want to eat,' because obviously it's always difficult to get nice food in a war zone.' Can she imagine a time when she decides not to go any more? 'It's becoming physically difficult as I get older. But I'll do it as long as I can.' After that, she won't quit altogether; she'll continue her work remotely. My cousin isn't someone who stops, I realise. Wars are still raging across the world and she's still got so much to do.
Scottish Sun
11 hours ago
- Scottish Sun
Tower of London mystery as archaeologists unearth 50 human bodies from ‘rushed' burials in ‘biggest dig' in 4 decades
Click to share on X/Twitter (Opens in new window) Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) ARCHAEOLOGISTS have uncovered the remains of up to 50 people in the Tower of London. Historians believe that many of bodies were likely to be those of victims of the Black Death. Sign up for Scottish Sun newsletter Sign up 3 The remains of 50 people have been uncovered as part of an excavation dig at the Tower of London (stock image) Credit: Getty Built in the 11th century, the Tower of London is widely regarded as one of Britain's most iconic landmarks. Originally the formidable fortress of William the Conqueror, the location has a nearly thousand-year history. Over the centuries, it has served as a royal palace, a prison, an armoury, a treasury, and even a zoo. A major excavation project is currently underway near the Chapel Royal of St. Peter and Vincula, a corner of the grounds near the White Tower. The dig is part of preparatory works to install a lift to improve accessibility to the chapel. However, during the dig on the oldest part of the complex, a major discovery was made behind an unsuspecting plywood door. The project, which is the biggest excavation done at the castle in 40 years, uncovered dozens of bodies within the foundations laid down over many centuries. Up to 50 bodies uncovered Historians believe the bones belong to ordinary people who lived and worked at the Tower, rather than the Lords and Ladies who once inhabited it. Alfred Hawkins, curator of historic buildings at Historic Royal Palaces, described the project as "hugely important". 'At the palace we have evidence for what Henry VIII did and what Edward I did — but what we don't know about is people who were living, working, worshipping, and dying at the Tower," he told The Times. 'Once in a century' Pompeii discovery as ancient luxury SPA is saved from ashes with thermal baths & stunning mosaic The site is also the final resting place of famous figures throughout British history, including Thomas More, Anne Boleyn, and Catherine Howard, all of whom were executed on Henry VIII's orders. Recent excavation works have explored some three and a half metres underground, revealing parts of the castle that date to the 12th century and the Tower's beginnings. 'It is literally a generational opportunity. Historic Royal Palaces (HRP) have never done an excavation like this and we won't do it again,' Hawkins added. He clarified that the HRP was running the dig with Pre-Construct Archaeology, an independent firm, with advice from Historic England. A test dig was carried out six years ago, uncovering two bodies but now there are said to be at least 25 burials in the area running the width of the chapel. Now, the remains of as many as 50 people are believed to have been uncovered. Despite the Tower's infamous history with brutal deaths, including the beheadings of Anne Boleyn, Catherine Howard, and Lady Jane Grey, it appears these bodies did not have a violent end. 3 Historians have suggested that the bodies may be those of early victims of the Black Death Credit: HISTORIC ROYAL PALACES/PRE CONSTRUCT ARCHAEOLOGY Victims of the Black Plague Historians believe that some of the bodies may have been early victims of the plague. They cited how the burials appear to have been 'rushed' and estimate they date from the 14th century. This would mean the burials occurred before Edward III implemented strict rules regarding the handling of the plague dead. DNA testing will show if they died from the Black Death, which reached London in 1348. Caused by the bubonic plague, the was spread by fleas carried by rats and had a devastating impact on the city. Within months, the Black Death killed up to half of London's population. Graveyards were overwhelmed and basic city services collapsed as a result. 3 Assistant Curator Alfred Hawkins described the discovery as a 'generational opportunity' Credit: Historic Royal Palaces Other bodies unearthed in the dig appear to have been treated more carefully, with one of the discoveries including grave goods in the form of jars akin to incense burners. These were filled with charcoal, which was a custom derived from Norman Europe. According to experts, this may indicate a member of the ruling class or a foreign traveller. Two Tudor bodies were uncovered in the vicinity in 2019, including a woman, aged between 35 and 50, whose burial in a coffin suggested high status. This theory has been backed by isotopic analysis that suggests she had a good diet. Her remains were found alongside those of a boy of about 13, who appears to have been born outside London and was unwell. Archaeologists have also discovered stained and painted glass, sewing needles, a pendant, a ring, and four cannon balls at the site. More on archaeology The remains of a lost Roman city have been uncovered on a popular holiday island. And the lost tomb of a 1,700-year-old king was uncovered in Mayan temple. Plus, the eerie "hybrid" skull that belonged to a "half human, half neanderthal girl". An ancient lost city from 3,500-years-ago that played home to the oldest civilization in the Americas' was uncovered in Peru. And AI has deciphered a hymn on a 4,000-year-old clay tablet, which is said unlock the mystery of the ancient city of Babylon.
