Beyond The Poppy: Why Erskine’s Work is a Daily Act of Remembrance

By Ian Cumming MBE, Chief Executive, Erskine Veterans Charity

I still remember the first Remembrance after I left the military. The silence that didn’t feel long enough, still never does. For those of us who’ve worn the uniform, November isn’t about pageantry and posturing. It’s about honouring those that no longer stand beside us.

I’ve lost colleagues and seen others harmed or still suffering the effects decades on, so the need for remembering is never lost on me. November arrives every year with the same questions: did we do enough for them then, and are we doing enough for those now?

I find Remembrance both personally poignant and professionally complex. Like many who have served and known losses, Remembrance is not an abstract concept to me. It is woven into my own memories and into the daily work I now do at Erskine Veterans Charity. Yet each year, as Armistice Day nears, I am troubled by how Remembrance, and particularly The Poppy, have become divisively politicised. In all honesty – I think twice about wearing The Poppy in certain circumstances – lest people misinterpret it.

What jars most is watching people with no experience of service use The Poppy as a test of loyalty or reject it to make a political point. For those of us who have faced the harsh realities of war, Remembrance is not a performance – it’s a promise.

Those who served, and why they served, are too often stereotyped. Charities like Erskine, and the Veterans we support, are sometimes mischaracterised or caught in the crossfire of competing political narratives. These distortions do more than offend truth and dignity; they risk undermining the donations that sustain vital charitable work and erode the collective respect that Remembrance should embody.

Military service represents a social contract. Men and women sign up to face adversity, to risk their health, and sometimes their lives, in defence of our way of life. In return, the nation owes them and their families gratitude, respect and enduring support. That’s the bargain I thought I was signing, and it’s the bargain I now try to keep for others. That’s also why it matters how we remember. If Remembrance becomes a prop for argument and point-scoring, the people it was meant to honour are pushed to the fringes of the conversation, relegated to a footnote in someone’s narrative.

Ever since 1916, Erskine has stood alongside those who served in the Armed Forces, helping them overcome the challenges of post-Service life. We are the only Scottish military charity providing the full spectrum of practical, hands-on care, accommodation and community support for Veterans of every age and life stage. Erskine is not funded by The Poppy Appeal, but we believe that we raise and spend more on Veterans in Scotland than the next eight UK military charities combined.

Our promise is lived out daily. During the First World War, Erskine cared for those returning from the trenches and high seas, with its surgical and rehabilitation services. Today, it continues in our nursing homes, our support to younger Veterans transitioning to civilian life, and in the homes and apartments we build to offer them security, dignity and belonging. It is reflected in our activity centres, in the sense of community we foster, and in the visits our staff make to Veterans in their own homes. Erskine’s promise has been real and unwavering for more than a century. Having served, it is an honour now to work for an organisation that has stood beside Scotland’s Veterans for over 100 years, regardless of the politics of the moment.

We do this work with pride and compassion, but also with a very clear view that war is abhorrent. It should always be a nation’s last resort. Erskine sees, every day, the physical and psychological impacts of preparing for and deploying to war. These are impacts that must never be lionised, romanticised or politicised. No one joins the Armed Forces in pursuit of sanctioned violence, and very few through patriotic fervour for Monarch and Country, as some so vocally claim.

The truth is far more human. Some enlist because service runs in their family. Others merely seek their first real family and a sense of belonging. Many hope to make the world a better place or simply offer their loved ones more safety. Some crave adventure and challenge, while others want stability, skills and secure work. Behind every enlistment lies a personal story, a blend of altruism and pragmatism. Together, these stories form a Veteran community that is diverse, resilient and defined by humanity.

Their experiences of Service, and the impact it leaves, are as varied as the individuals themselves. That reality, not the tired tropes often recycled in public and political debate or media portrayal, shapes the work Erskine does every day.

This is also why we choose to remember differently. At Erskine, Remembrance is not confined to November. It lives in the work we do all year round. Every care home placement, every supported tenancy, every community outreach event is an act of Remembrance in practice.

Yet Remembrance week itself is complex. For some Veterans, traditional symbols evoke pride and bittersweet memory. For others, they bring pain, rejection or even anger. These emotions often intensify around Armistice Day. We recognise and respect them all, and the individual decisions about whether to wear The Poppy or not.

Many wear a poppy, but just as many do not. Many share my concern about what sometimes feels like the toxic hijacking of The Poppy to represent a particularly strident political or patriotic standpoint. A standpoint in which the actual needs of Veterans can appear secondary. That’s what worries me most about where debate often leads.

When The Poppy itself becomes a political football, we have seen first-hand that it does put many people off supporting our Veterans’ causes. This only serves as a detriment to those that require support the most. Unfortunately, the broader politicisation of the symbol risks alienating potential supporters and threatens work of the Earl Haig Fund and the wider act of National Remembrance itself.

Anyone who recognises what Erskine does can support us knowing that military charities are apolitical. We do not glorify war, nor do we take a constitutional stance. We exist to serve those who served, whatever their background, beliefs or motivations. We exist to provide compassion and care to those who need it, because they once served us all, but we still need more support. What we are trying to do now is take our century-old promise to more places, so that a Veteran’s ability to be looked after does not depend on their postcode.

However, when I stand in silence on 11 November, I don’t think about strategy documents or fundraising targets. I think about the people we lost, and the people we look after now. Remembrance, at its best, is about honouring them all.

The promise made to every Service person when they joined, for whatever reason and from whatever background, must be kept. They served. They deserve our respect, our gratitude and, if the time comes, Erskine’s help. That, to me, is the truest symbol of Remembrance, and I wear it every single day.