VE Day 80: Britain Remembers the Heroes Who Saved the World

Although this is not our usual content, I felt—both as Editor-at-Large at Video Production News and as someone who had many members of his own family who flew for both the RAF and Coastal Command during the Second World War, including one who bravely piloted a Mosquito aircraft during the daring Operation Jericho raid on Amiens Prison to free Jewish members of the French Resistance from certain execution by the Gestapo—that it is only right and proper that we pause today, on the 80th anniversary of VE Day, to reflect, remember, and render due honour to those who served, fought, and gave their all in defence of our great nation and the values of liberty.

Today, across the towns and cities of this island nation, church bells toll and Union Flags flutter in solemn salute. Schoolchildren gather in assembly halls to hear the stories of the few remaining veterans, local mayors lay wreaths at war memorials worn by time but not by memory, and in Westminster Abbey, the King and Queen, alongside the Prime Minister and leading members of all political parties, stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the last of our wartime generation to give thanks.

Eighty years ago today, the guns in Europe fell silent. The Nazi regime, which had plunged the continent into darkness and death, was finally defeated. Streets across Britain erupted in joy, but even then, the celebrations were tinged with loss. Over 383,000 British military personnel had laid down their lives. Nearly 70,000 civilians perished in bombing raids. And while VE Day marked the end of fighting in Europe, the war in the Pacific raged on. So, on this 8th of May 2025, as we mark the 80th anniversary, we do so not with fireworks or fanfare, but with reverence.

As a news organisation that reports on modern-day crime, courts, and the faults and fissures in our society, we at Video Production News are ever mindful that the liberties we exercise daily as members of the press were paid for in blood.

The right to speak freely, to hold leaders to account, to live without fear of tyranny—these freedoms are not abstract. These were earned on the beaches of Normandy, in the skies over Kent and France in the freezing Atlantic aboard convoy escorts, and in the resistance movements across occupied Europe, where people risked—and often gave—their lives to resist fascism.

In my own family, as I mentioned, service in the RAF and Coastal Command was not just duty—it was destiny. One relative flew in a low-level Mosquito raid over Amiens to breach the walls of a Nazi prison where Jewish partisans and resistance fighters awaited execution. It was a mission of courage, precision, and moral clarity. The walls of that prison came down, and with them, many captives ran free. That is the Britain I believe in. That is the Britain we remember today.

Around the UK today, tributes have taken many forms. In Birmingham, a local fish and chip shop served cones of chips at 1945 prices, not as a gimmick but as a gesture—an echo of a simpler, united time. In Dorset, schoolchildren planted poppies in the village green, each one bearing a name of the fallen from that parish. In Edinburgh, a lone piper played “Flowers of the Forest” beneath the National War Memorial. And at 9:30 PM tonight, across the country, beacons will be lit—lights of peace to honour those who ensured that Britain and her allies stood not in defeat, but in triumph.

In London, I watched the service at Westminster Abbey this morning—a solemn and stirring moment, with veterans seated at the front. Some were centenarians. All bore medals not for show, but for sacrifice. As the organ swelled and hymns filled the vaulted chamber, I found myself moved—not just as a reporter, but as a son of this country.

There was a line from the address at that I must quote:

“They gave us our tomorrow. We must now earn it anew, each day.”

It reminded me that remembrance is not just about honouring the past—"it is a call to action for the present. To defend our democracy, to uphold justice, to confront hatred wherever it festers, whether in uniform or online."

Let us not grow cynical in the comfort they bought us. Let us not become careless with the peace they won. Let us be, in the truest sense, the worthy inheritors of their courage.

So on this 8th of May 2025, I ask you—not as a journalist, but as a fellow citizen—to take a moment. Not for noise or nostalgia, but for remembrance. Tell your children what was done. Light a candle. Say a name. Read a passage. And when the sun sets and the beacons rise, let it be said that we did not forget.

Well, that’s all for now. But until our next article, please stay tuned, stay informed, but most of all stay safe, and I’ll see you then.