A few months ago, The Greenwich Phantom made me aware of the fact that early bollards used on pavements came from cannons captured during the Napoleonic war. The cannons were apparently stuck in the ground with a cannon ball on the top – and the design has remained ever since.

If you look at modern bollards, many are indeed not that dissimilar to a cannon with a cannon ball on the top.

The problem with this is that metal is a precious commodity, and I found it difficult to believe that such a valuable lump of metal would be so casually dumped as street furniture. I wondered if it was an urban myth based on a somewhat more mundane truth.

A bit of research later, and these valuable captured cannons were indeed scrapped by the British government following the Napoleonic Wars – as a result of political lobbying by the arms industry. It seems that the armaments manufacturers were worried that the government would reuse the captured cannons for its own military forces, and hence the firms wouldn’t be able to sell more cannons to the government. After representations to the government, it was agreed that the loss of business would close several companies and as a healthy arms industry was (and still is) considered to be vital to national security, Parliament agreed to scrap the French cannons.

In actuality, they ended up being buried muzzle down to act as road bollards. Later they were buried muzzle upwards with the classic cannon ball stuck on top.

So, in order to save the British arms industry, hundreds of valuable cannons were unceremoniously taken over by local authorities for street furniture. However, there is a side-effect of this, as street bollards were largely unknown in England at the time, and the use of the captured cannons as “new” bollards would have reminded the populace of the recent military victory in France and probably been something of some pride for the populace.

Anyhow, the reason for this ramble, is that I have often noticed a rather old looking bollard in Wapping and the other day I finally remembered to have a decent look at it and take a photo. If not an original Napoleonic cannon, it is at the very least not much later in age. I’d guess that if it is an original, it is probably quite valuable now. The bollard is on the corner of Wapping Rose Garden, in case you want to have a personal visit – or to dig it up and take it along to the Antiques Roadshow being held in Greenwich later this year.

Incidentally, the word bollard is thought to come from the French “bole”, which referred to a short stout stump of wood used for tying boats alongside piers and jetties.

Final point – someone has started a blog that comments on bollards found around London – strangely fascinating.

The Times newspaper is reporting that some 36,000 Gurkha soldiers and their families will be allowed to settle in the UK – after the government lost a legal fight over settlement rights.

Personally, I think this is a fantastic decision as people who are willing to serve in the British army have earned the right to settle in the UK. It’s not just a financial issue as the right of settlement is part of the “benefits package” for the soldiers, but also a moral issue.

If people are willing to die for British politics (and wars are always political), then they damn well should be allowed to live here as well.

This reminded me of the ongoing, and in my opinion, disgraceful treatment of Iraqi’s who helped the British army by serving as translators in that troubled country and now face a very real threat to their lives from insurgents as the British army withdraws from the country. I’ve written about the benefits to the UK of allowing them to settle here in the past.

Lets hope that there is a way found to challenge that decision in the courts and accord the Iraqi’s the same treatment as their Nepalese counter-parts.

Today, many hundreds of people will line Whitehall as part of the annual Remembrance Sunday ceremony, and while you watch people standing in solemn silence or marching past in military precision – have you ever wondered what they are thinking at the time?

As a teenager and a member of the St Johns’ Ambulance, I used to participate in the Remembrance ceremony in Windsor town centre by the main church and war memorial. As a senior cadet, I had the task of representing the brigade and carried the flag along with other flag bearers from military groups etc.

While the people standing around would doubtless be thinking somber thoughts of remembrance – I can assure you that the participants are rarely thinking such thoughts.

Imagine it – you are there in front of loads of people, instructed to follow a set pattern of actions and desperately trying not to screw it up.

As a flag bearer, I had to carry the huge flagpole and flag, and a solid wooden flagpole plus flag is incredibly heavy – especially for this weedy little teenager. Yes, we had a shoulder supported holster to pop the flagpole into to take the bulk of the weight, but we also had to wear white gloves and hold the pole in a ceremonial manner which is actually quite uncomfortable.

Your key worry throughout is that the cotton gloves will slip on the smooth flag pole and you will end up dropping it on the heads of the people in front of you – so you end up gripping that flagpole tighter and tighter as the morning progresses.

So, you spend most of the morning in a mild state of panic – while the people around think you are deep in somber reflection for the war dead.

The worst is to come though – at the Windsor ceremony, when the last post is sounded we would take the flagpole out of the holster and then hold it out in front of us horizontal as a mark of respect.

As everyone else bows their head in remembrance, we stand there with our arms shaking from the exertion of holding this incredibly heavy flagpole out in front and silently begging the bugaler to hurry up. At last, he finishes – and then with exhausted arm muscles, we have to somehow now lift that flag pole back up and pop it back into the holster and carry on with the ceremony.

The Windsor branch of the St Johns’ Ambulance was supposed to share the duty with the nurses alternating each year – but the girls never put anyone forward and as the senior cadet officer I spent four years carrying that flagpole at remembrance services.

On the Monday morning afterwards, I would go to school and would be barely able to lift a pen as my arms were in agony from the exertion the day before.

Still, my aching arms were just a tiny price compared to those who died on the battle fields of war.