A bugle sounded in the Forbury Gardens, and I went to the window to see what was up. I saw about fifty people around a humble memorial to a military unit from Reading or Berkshire. A wreath was placed on it, the unit’s flag was unfurled, and a priest delivered a short speech. Then the bugle sounded again, and the group dispersed. Two things touched me. To begin with, there were few people below eighty in the group. And, to round it off, most of them were women. Yes, I could not suppress a tear for all those men. They must have fought in World War II, another jolly disaster only two generations ago.