The last of the many: Three surviving British WWI veterans remember the millions who fell

His legs were old and tired now and his eyes were filled with tears.

But Henry Allingham had made a silent promise to absent friends and he wasn't about to let them down, not even at the age of 112.

So yesterday, in the bitter chill of a London morning, the oldest survivor of the Great War summoned all his fading strength to lay a wreath to the fallen.



Time to reflect: Observing the two-minute silence at the Cenotaph were surviving veterans Henry Allingham, 112, Harry Patch, 110, and Bill Stone, 108, (left to right)

Bill, right, laughs with fellow veterans Henry, left, and Harry before the ceremony begins

Bill Stone, pictured whilst serving in HMS Chrysanthemum, and, right, Henry Allingham in 1916. He saw action in Flanders, the Somme and the Battle of Jutland



Tears for friends: Harry Patch, 110, reacts at the Armistice Day service at the Cenotaph

He did so in person, by his own hand... and with a final, farewell kiss upon the flower that speaks for his generation.

The First World War airman, swaddled in a wheelchair and surrounded by countless willing helpers, struggled in vain to get to his feet at the Cenotaph for yesterday's Armistice Day ceremony.



But he refused to let go of the large poppy wreath until he was certain he could place it himself.

Slowly - and with countless eyes watching on TV screens across Europe - he bent forward to lay it on the ground at the foot of the memorial, with just moments to spare before the buglers sounded the Last Post at his side.

One last mission accomplished for Henry Allingham and his mates.

One more reminder of the sacrifices others made for generations to come.

Prince William's personal message on his wreath made reference to people he has known who have lost their lives

The Duchess of Cornwall stands side-by-side with Carla Bruni, the wife of President Sarkozy of France, as Armistice Day is marked at the Military Cemetary in Verdun eastern France





Barack Obama meets paraplegic Iraq war veteran Tammy Duckworth during a wreath-laying ceremony in Chicago



The poignant scene perfectly reflected the spirit of determination which hallmarked the actions of so many young men so many years ago.

Mr Allingham, an aircraft mechanic who saw action at sea, at the Battle of Jutland and on the Western Front, was one of three veterans given pride of place at the ceremony.

Harry Patch, 110, is a veteran of Passchendaele and the last true 'Tommy' from the trenches.

Bill Stone, 108, fought in both world wars for the Royal Navy.

Prince Charles and France's President Nicolas Sarkozy review an honor guard in Douaumont, eastern France

Back then their combined teenage years totalled just over half a century. Today the sums adds up to 330.

Each man was brought in a wheelchair to the Cenotaph, heralded by a wave of spontaneous applause from onlookers and shepherded by valiant escorts from Britain's three military services.

Marine Mkhuseli Jones, whose actions in Afghanistan won him the Military Cross, accompanied Mr Stone and laid a Royal Navy wreath on his behalf.



Britain's oldest First World War war veteran Henry Allingham, 112, reflects during the Armistice Day service at the Cenotaph in London

Crowds gather at the Cenotaph in London to remember the fallen

The girls of The Red Maid's Junior School in Westbury on Trym, Bristol, mark the two minutes' silence

Lance Corporal Johnson Beharry, who was given a Victoria Cross after twice risking his life for comrades in Iraq, laid the Army wreath for Mr Patch.



Flight Lieutenant Michelle Goodman, awarded a Distinguished Flying Cross for her courageous endeavours under fire in Basra, would proudly have done the same for Mr Allingham and the RAF - except that he had other ideas.

In the end she helped his frail hands guide the RAF wreath to the ground and joined the salute at his side.

All three men had shared jokes and swapped old stories at the Ministry of Defence before joining the ceremony, turning the clock back nearly a century to when they first joined the war.

Henry Allingham, the oldest of the three British World War One survivors at 112

Together: The three survivors together at the Cenotaph service

But it was three solemn faces that the winter sun caught when the trio came into Whitehall.

Big Ben sounded in the distance to mark 11am. And thus, at the 11th hour on the 11th day of the 11th month, the moment the guns fell silent precisely 90 years ago was indelibly marked in modern history.

For two minutes, the loudest noise was birdsong and the flapping of Union Flags above government buildings.

As always, the silence spoke far louder than words. And all around the country, a similar stillness descended on memorials, in offices and military bases, and on individuals in the street.

Soldiers, sailors and airmen who had lined Whitehall now stood with heads bowed in respect - not just to the million dead of the First World War, one imagines, but for all those new recruits to the fallen.

Gordon Brown during the service and, right, Amanda Taylor, wearing the medals of her grandfather, sheds a tear as she marks Armistice Day

By the time the trumpeters sounded Reveille, someone with a white handkerchief had to brush a tear from Mr Allingham's cheek. Harry Patch's hands went to his face.

Bill Stone looked towards the sea of red poppies, and then to the sky. To borrow a phrase from another war, this might have been their finest hour. But everyone knew that some time soon, their voices would fall silent too.

Perhaps surprisingly, no senior member of the royal family attended the event, missing a rapidly disappearing opportunity to honour the veterans in person at this most significant hour, on this landmark anniversary day.

The Prince of Wales and Duchess of Cornwall joined French President Nicolas Sarkozy and First Lady Carla Bruni-Sarkozy in France for the international ceremony at Verdun, and Prince Philip was attending an event on the QE2 in Southampton, where the liner arrived after being showered with a million poppy petals at sea, one for each life lost in the four years of war.

The Queen, who led the nation in remembrance at the Cenotaph on Sunday, was conducting an investiture at Windsor.

Tony Blair lays a wreath at the British Military Cemetery in Jerusalem. The Middle East envoy met Israeli leaders to try to move the peace process forward

Railway staff observe the two minutes' silence at York Railway Station

Instead, the The Duchess of Gloucester attended as patron of the World War One Veterans Association, standing alongside Prime Minister Gordon Brown and Defence Secretary John Hutton.

When the ceremony ended, the wheelchair veterans were escorted as VIPs through a corridor composed of some of the highest ranking military men in the land, then given guest of honour status at reception Mr Brown threw for them in Downing Street.

The distance they travelled was less than 200 yards, along a specially closed roads.



Ninety years ago it might have taken several months and thousands of lives to gain the same distance on the cloying mud of the battlefield. Inevitably, their thoughts tayed with those they had to leave behind.

No-one summarised it better than Harry Patch.

Reflecting on the horror and carnage he had said: 'We weren’t heroes. We didn’t want to be there. You saw lots of people crying for help but you couldn't stop. We fought for a few yards of soil - and that cost the lives of most of my comrades, including my three best friends. There was no excuse for such slaughter for so little gain. It was a terrible waste.'

Carla Bruni casts a sideways glance as she stands with her husband President Sarkozy at an Armistice Day service

After the ceremony he added: 'I am very happy to be here today. It is not just an honour for me, but for an entire generation.'

Mr Stone, speaking in Downing Street, said he was 'deeply proud' to be representing others at the Cenotaph.



'I have wonderful memories and I still think about my comrades often,' he said.

Mr Allingham also recalled memories of those who died, and described how he feared every day would be his last.

The Prince of Wales stands next to President Sarkozy as they inspect the Guard of Honour, at the Military Cemetery in Verdun, eastern France

But the legacy the three men represented today will hopefully survive even longer.

Certainly some of the next generations were there to learn from it, among them three six-year-old schoolboys in short trousers and blazers.



Their teacher Alexandra Coode - reduced to tears when Mr Allingham kissed the poppy wreath - had selected Dominic Bramley-Carr, Luca Guerrini-Maraldi and Kaymar Kawash, from Eaton House School in London, to attend.

They already knew about Poppy Day, and a little about the horror and death that war always brings.



Everyone hoped it would simply be a history lesson for them.

A million poppies are dropped over the QE2 in Southampton. The liner was refloated this morning after it had run aground on a sandbank on its way into the port

