A sculpture to commemorate the end of WW1 at 11am on 11th November 1918.

A poem by the artist Ray Lonsdale

Eleven O one
Now adrift in the wake of this glorious slaughter,
He’d seen many a soul cleansed in filthy water,
Seen godless men reach out for the Bible,
As lead tore the flesh from both friend and rival.
Soon home to the joy and celebration of kin,
Drunken slaps on the back at a favourite inn.
But heavy in his pocket lies a small piece of card
And the note written on it will break a mother’s heart.