Early this afternoon Irene and Roger rang. Would I be interested in joining them at the Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park to witness the 'Shrouds of the Somme'? I guess they knew I was disappointed at the Tower of London yesterday. I had heard about the Shrouds and had hoped to be able to go one day next week, but I jumped at the chance of going with Irene and Roger.

We journeyed by car, parking in the nether regions of a vaste indoor car park at Stratford Westfield. Making our way through Waitrose, we climbed an enormous flight of steps - at the top of which I had to sit down to rest, for my legs are not getting any younger. Onward we strode, Irene insisting that we walk at my pace, which varied from slow to slower, slowest and dead stop! The saving grace was a courtesy eight seater open vehicle into which old people were invited to sit for the journey. Irene had gone ahead to ask the driver to wait for me. I was ushered on board - and the realisation struck me that I am now one of the elderly who are grateful for courtesy vehicles!

Entrance to the 'Shrouds' was via a large tent and exit the same way. The photographs speak for themselves. Each of the 72,396 shrouds represents a man who died at the Somme. Their names were read over a loudspeaker system and displayed on the walls in the tent.

The overall effect was such that words completely fail me a couple of hours later. To say that I was overwhelmed would be the under statement of the decade. The number 72,396 had little meaning until I saw 72,396 shrouds laid on the moist green grass as the sun moved slowly to set, leaving long lines of light across the seemingly endless row upon row.

Broadcaster Dan Snow writes in the booklet available on the site: "Rob Heard's Shrouds of the Somme is the most remarkable First World War commemoration you will ever see. Step back and see the sheer scale of human sacrifice during the bloodiest battle in British military history. Step forward and see each of the 72,396 shrouded figures lay testimony to the individual sacrifices of the men whose bodies were never recovered. Each one, a human life cut short."

Four years ago the poppies at the Tower of London was a moving tribute to those who gave their lives. 'Shrouds of the Somme' brought the tragedy vividly to mind. I remain speechless . . .

Irene and I sat at a nearby bus stop for the 20 minutes it took Roger to find the car and bring it to pick us up, thus saving the long walk back. My thanks to Roger and Irene for an afternoon that moved me more than I can say or speak.