The Sound of Remembrance: A Weekend with the Massed Band of the Pegasus Memorial

An Unforgettable Experience Honouring the Veterans and the Fallen in Normandy and Ypres

I’ve been a bander for over 22 years. During that time, I’ve been lucky enough to have taken part in, what I would have called, ‘bucket list’ performances. As grand as they were, they pale in comparison to the weekend I had the utmost privilege to spend in Normandy and Ypres with The Massed Band of the Pegasus Memorial. 

I always knew it would be a bucket list moment, but the significance of our presence and performances out there far outweighed any personal milestone. It was humbling and deeply moving. Away from the marches and services, my time spent with the band members themselves demonstrated everything that made me fall in love with banding in the first place. In short, it was a weekend that highlighted everything that brass banding should be: community, camaraderie and music.

What is the Massed Band of the Pegasus Memorial?

The Massed Band of the Pegasus Memorial is made up of musicians who are current or former members of the police or volunteer their time to represent the UK police bands at D-Day remembrance events in Normandy. This incredible initiative is made possible by the dedicated efforts of Keith Williams with support from Kym Daley - two of the best banders I’ve ever met and cannot thank them enough for their efforts and for letting me be a part of the band. 

“I got involved when I'd gone out to France in 2007, my stepfather was 13th (Lancashire) Parachute Battalion. (They liberated the village of Ranville and the short ceremony we did at Ranville Crossroads is in honour of the Battalion). When I visited the museum, I was a bit shocked to find a British Band only ever attended on significant anniversaries! So, as a proud Lancashire lad, I took the West Yorkshire Police Band out there on the 64th anniversary. I loved the irony of a Yorkshire band honouring Lancastrians. I carried on with that Band until the 70th, they didn't want to go any more! I put an advert out on the Police musicians Facebook page, and met Kym! The rest, as they say is history. Together, we've managed to get a band together from the 71st anniversary onwards - missed the Covid year, mind! The Parachute Regiment Association have adopted us as their go-to band for Normandy, with the demise of the Parachute Regiment Band, likewise for Pégasus Memorial and Bénouville Town Hall! I carry on raising a band to honour those that fought and died there and those, like my stepfather who came back. I've been doing Tyne Cot and Menin Gate since 2004. I have a great uncle commemorated at Tyne Cot, Northumberland Fusilier and 2 more buried on The Somme.” 

Keith Williams

"11 years ago, I met a gentleman called Keith. It was one of those life‑changing moments - for the better!! Since then I’ve been to Normandy every year (minus covid), honouring my grandad who fought and my great uncle who landed on Gold Beach — and the wonderful Veterans I’ve met along the way — that make me want to keep these commemorations alive. What began as playing has become supporting Keith to make sure we have a band every year - and we've got some of the best people with us, who happen to also be outstanding musicians! I've formed amazing friendships, some are more like family - they've seen me go through some personal trauma; beating breast cancer and dropping cheating husbands (Rob, Alex and I had a lot of SAS to celebrate that one, the 5th June 2025 was a hangover day I will always remember! ). And for those, it's always, if you're up in Durham, save a hotel - there is a nice bed and warm welcome (in winter....toasty fire!!) Life‑changing is the only way to describe Normandy for me!

Kym Daley

Band Camp and a Lesson in Pronunciation

After an overnight trip on the ferry, we docked in Caen, Normandy, on the morning of Thursday 4th June. The port was just a short drive from the village of Bénouville, where we would be staying and performing. By we, I mean myself; my husband, Rob and our two friends from Wingates Band, Laura and Alex (who was weekend’s Principal Cornet and Last Post extraordinaire). Rob and Alex are no stranger to the Massed Band of the Pegasus Memorial, with Alex having taken part in numerous memorial weekends with the band and Rob joining them last year. However, for myself and Laura, this was a brand new experience. We had no idea what to expect. 

Our accommodation for the Normandy portion of the trip was a school gym. I tell you what: nothing builds camaraderie quicker than sharing a sleeping area with twenty-odd other banders!  Needless to say, we soon found out who snored and who sang (I’m not kidding) in their sleep! 

One thing I love about banding is how quickly a fellow musician can become a friend. Through late-night giggles that led to bleary eyes and in-jokes between yawns in the morning, friendships were forged in the (metaphorical) fires of our little makeshift bandcamp. 

After setting up our billets, praying that our air beds hadn’t developed a puncture during the trip over and having a little wander round the local shops, we did what all banders do and headed to the local pub, Les 3 Planeurs (The Three Gliders), to sample the local beer. The pub in question is named after the three of the six gliders from the 6th British Airborne Division that landed in Bénouville  on 6th June 1944 and secured the Caen Canal Bridge (now known as Pegasus Bridge, after the emblem of the 6th British Airborne Division).

The beer of choice (by that, I mean the beer I was advised to get by the more experienced members of the band) was called SAS. Given the history of the location, I just assumed it was pronounced in the same way one would pronounce the acronym for the Special Air Service. So, you can imagine my surprise and utter embarrassment when the lovely lady at the bar took my order of “A pint of S.A.S, please” before turning to her colleague and asking him to pour a pint of ‘sass’. As my card touched the reader, I wanted the ground to swallow me up. I was only grateful I’d decided against testing how much GCSE French I could remember and ordered in English. This way I only looked stupid in one language - even if it was my own native tongue. 

Pint in hand, the talk turned to music. The topic of Highland Cathedral being one of my favourite pieces arose in the conversation and was met with the response of, “it won’t be by the end of the weekend” from the players who weren’t newbies. Turns out, it’s a piece that the band plays frequently across their D-Day performances. Although, I admit my feelings for the piece completely transformed over the weekend, it wasn’t in the way they implied. 

Pegasus Memorial Ceremony

This lass is a night owl. Staying up chatting and laughing till late - not a problem. However, when the alarm went off the following morning, trying to put my contact lenses in the correct eyes and buttoning up my uniform wasn’t quite so easy. I’d like to say this lesson was learned on the first day. Alas, dear reader it was not. The band members were just too much fun. I didn’t half feel smart in the uniform though - hat, white gloves and all. Coffee supped, uniform on - the  tiredness quickly faded into pride and determination to do the best job I could.

First job of the weekend: marching through the village of Bénouville to perform in a ceremony at the Pegasus Memorial.

The weekend was a huge event and people were lining the streets. After two decades, I’ve done a lot of marching (you’d think I wouldn’t still have to keep saying ‘left’ in my head whilst I march, but there you go). Flipping the pages of a laminated march book with gloves on was a new skill I had to acquire quickly! However, knowing who we were representing, how much our music meant to the people there and what we were marching for - it was a level of pride I’d never experienced before…and the most nervous I’ve ever been on a march. 

Ahead of us were the North West Royal Marines Association Corps of Drums. I love a drum corps -they’re one of my fave bits of the Edinburgh Tattoo, so this was incredibly cool and they were brilliant! I’d be absolutely rubbish, but I really want to have a go on a drum and attempt the synchronised drumstick-to-the-nose thing they do (not a technical term, but you know what I mean, don’t you?), even though, knowing me, it’ll probably end with an unrhythmical nose bleed situation!

That afternoon we performed at the Pegasus Memorial’s Ceremony for the 82nd anniversary of the D-Day Landings. This event was attended by British Veterans, transported by the Taxi Charity for Military Veterans,  who do incredible work to support veterans with entertainment, outings and specialised equipment. Also in attendance were American Veterans supported by the Best Defense Foundation whose work enables veterans to return to the battlefields where they served.  

As these courageous heroes made their entrance, we played our first rendition of Highland Cathedral alongside the Pegasus Pipes and Drums. The arrangement starts with the melody line performed by the bagpipes, before the band rises to join. Seeing those brave men and women, thinking what they must have endured and those they lost before playing such a rousing rendition of an already emotive piece - the reality of just how humbling and moving this weekend was going to be started to sink in. Needless to say, Highland Cathedral is now even higher on my list of favourite pieces. 

During the ceremony, we heard the stories from British Veteran, Paul Terry and American Veteran, Joe Schott who both served in the war. Despite the harrowing history, they told their stories with sharp wit and the moment where Joe introduced us to a friend he made in 1944, Sophie de Givré, during his speech was beyond heartwarming. 

After the ceremony, before we played a short concert at the museum, we had the chance to explore the real Pegasus Bridge and one of the gliders used in the operation, as well as the Airborne Division’s mascot (or, as I called him, the ceremonial pony), Pegasus. Well, actually the real Pegasus lives in Britain, so for the last few years he has had a ‘dep’, called Newton, who’s from a local farm and gets the chance to dress up in the regalia (polished hooves and all) and attend the ceremony. He did an excellent job. I would fully recommend him as a mascot dep at any event. I considered asking for his availability for my 30th birthday.

In the evening, we performed a concert for the local residents and visitors. It was a great mix of lighthearted tunes and two fantastic solo spotlights - ‘Flowerdale’ performed by Rob on Soprano Cornet (very proud wife moment) and Make You Feel My Love performed by the band’s fabulous solo horn, Michelle. 

Ranville and Bénouville Ceremonies

Before we knew it, it was Saturday morning and we were up and out for a full day of marches and ceremonies. The first was at Ranville War Cemetery. 

It was my first experience of a war cemetery, and although it was immaculately maintained and visually beautiful, the atmosphere carried a quiet, but palpable emotion. Trying to keep it together as stories were told of the soldiers who went out to fight and never came home, was a struggle. Alex played his first of many outstanding Last Posts and Reveilles. Bugle calls are always such a poignant thing to play, as we banders know, but to play it so brilliantly in places of such historical and emotional significance is a hard task and one he handled incredibly throughout the weekend. 

It was a quick turnaround to get back to Bénouville for three shorter remembrance services across the village, finishing with a Sunset ceremony back at the Pegasus Memorial. 

Tyne Cot

On Sunday morning, it was time to pack up our little band camp and make our way up to Belgium. 

First on the list was Tyne Cot cemetery. According to my research, the cemetery was named Tyne Cot, as the Northumberland Fusiliers thought the shape of the captured concrete bunkers on the site resembled typical workers’ cottages in Tyneside. 

I had been taken aback by how big Ranville was, but nothing could prepare me for the sight of Tyne Cot.

Similar to Ranville, it was immaculate, but (if it’s even possible) more emotionally atmospheric. It was silent. Barely any bird song, which made our sound even more pronounced as it carried across the rows of headstones, cutting through the stillness in a way that felt almost amplified by the absence of any other sound. 

I studied the world wars at both GCSE and A Level. I’ve watched countless documentaries and read a number of books. I’ve seen the numbers killed across the conflicts. But, it took this weekend and physically seeing the rows of headstones and names for those numbers to really sink in. To see graves of teenagers or headstone after headstone above someone’s father, brother, son, husband, uncle or friend that didn’t bear a name. It’s so hard to try and articulate without going into the realms of the dramatic or sounding trite just how, despite Tyne Cot’s beauty, utterly despairing it is to see that level of loss. 

The Menin Gate

When I was about 22 I wrote a blog post of my ‘bucket list’ places I’ve always wanted to play. In that post I outlined above the Royal Albert Hall, Brass in Concert and other iconic events and venues, my number one place I really wanted the opportunity to play:

“I’ve always wanted to visit the war cemeteries in France and Belgium, not just because of the historical interest, but I feel it would be an incredibly humbling experience. I would give anything to play at the Menin Gate in Ypres during their daily service of remembrance. Trophies and contests are great but having the chance to pay my respects in the best way I know how, through music, to those who gave their lives would be the highest honour.”

I didn’t think this would be something I would actually have the opportunity to do. 

I wasn’t really sure how to articulate this in conversation when I was out there without sounding self-centred, like it was simply ticking off a bucket list and nothing more or sounding like a bit of a geek. As you can imagine though, this meant a hell of a lot. 

Arriving in Belgium and forming up at the top of the road facing the Menin Gate was surreal. Watching the bugle ceremony and then playing Nimrod inside the gate itself is something I’ll never, ever forget…for many reasons. More than that, sharing that experience with a group of people who were just so lovely and by that point I felt like I’d known them for ages made it more special than I could ever have imagined. 

That night, after a weekend that was quite physically and emotionally demanding, we hung our uniforms up for the last time and met up at the pub for one last social. Kym and Michelle pulled me to one side and said they had a gift for me, but they wanted to film my reaction. I was concerned to say the least. I needn’t have worried. When exploring Ypres, the lovely ladies had stumbled upon a drink with a very particular name - Flugel - which they kindly gifted to me.

This is what banding is

After the weekend, I retired the bucket list. Although those other opportunities would be great if they came to fruition, nothing will beat having the chance to play with the Massed Band of the Pegasus Memorial. There aren’t enough words to say how grateful I am that the initiative was set up in the first place, as it is so, so important and to have the opportunity to play a small part in it. My only ‘bucket list’ moment left is the chance to do it again. 

It was hard to believe that I’d only met most of the band four days prior. By Sunday we had in-jokes, we’d shared stories (both light and deep) about our lives, we took the mickey out of each other (mercilessly, in some cases!) like friends who have known each other for decades would do. By the Sunday night I’d signed up to another dep gig in the year, a brass flash mob and a flugel duel (yep duel,  not duet - flugel players shouldn’t sit at the same table - there’s a reason there’s only one flugel seat in a band; the egos take up too much space). It’s the only peril of brass band friendships - more gigs find their way into the calendar, but I don’t care. 

I could wax lyrical about so many people in the band, but I’ll be ribbed mercilessly for being too soppy and I’m not sure I could deal with that. What I will say is, Keith, if you ever decide to pivot into stand-up comedy, I’ll be the first to buy a ticket to the tour. I’ve met some funny people in my time, but as well as being the mastermind behind this important initiative, he is the most hilarious person I’ve ever met. 

Kym is everything a bander should be. So, passionate about the cause and banding in general and just a ray of sunshine to be around. 

Michelle, thank you for taking this clumsy clot under your wing - you had your work cut out.

Finally, our MD, Dave, for having the patience of a saint and leading us so astutely. 

As I looked around the table on that last night, thinking about the days that had gone before, I thought to myself - this is what banding is. We get so caught up in trophies and league tables, that sometimes I think we forget who we are and what banding is. The people who lined the streets, stood in the cemeteries or sat and watched our concerts didn’t know (or care) what section we played in, what silverware we did or didn’t have in the cabinet - they cared that we were there and we played. We were the soundtrack to their memories, their emotions, their celebrations. Music is a powerful thing. Yes it’s part of the banding make-up to compete and to judge, but that’s not its purpose. We are the music of communities. Other ensembles have their place. But when it comes to music with heart, with purpose, with pride - there is nothing that can beat a brass band and I’ve never been so proud to be a bander.