Nehmt Abschied, Brüder

My father died on February 7th, the day of the new moon. His body was too weak, he couldn't eat nor drink any more, only gasp for breath. The last time he was awake and able to look around, he recognized me, and kissed me good bye.
I had come from Berlin just in time.
The funeral was a ceremony with neighbours and friends, wreaths and flowers filling the small chapel, last greetings. Representatives from the organizations he had been a member of had come and brought their flags. They stood to the side of the coffin, the flags held up.
Many of these groups my father had founded and led in the 50s and 60s, and opened to international meetings in the 70s. A soldier in WW II, and war prisoner in France, he was especially engaged in building up french-german friendship. His assistant of many years in Lierenfeld shooting club reminded us of the work he had done, organizing, setting up new traditions. He bowed to the coffin: "Alfons, danke!"
Anna and I broke down in tears trying to join in the song my father had wished for, "Nehmt Abschied, Brüder", the german version of "Auld lang syne".
The flags were lowered in a last salute, and led the coffin and the mourners to the new part of Eller cemetery. Soldiers from german military and even from France (enemies during the war who had become friends since many years) saluted whilst the coffin was lowered into the grave. A trumpet played "Ich hatt einen Kameraden" as is the tradition with shooting and military comradeships.
After the funeral, family and friends met in my sister's house, his old home, for coffee and cake, talking about him, exchanging stories from his long, rich life.
Father and mother gone, I'm the oldest of our family now. Time to write down the family memories before they're gone forever.