"Late last year, and as part of my research into the practice of civil religion and its connection with the teaching of citizenship, I developed an interest in war memorials.

Coming from a family of pacifists and Quakers, or members of the Society of Friends, there had never been any influence in this direction at home. In fact, far from it; my late father had actually been a conscientious objector in the last war, and my late mother would tell me stories of how she and her fellow Friends would be spat upon when taking a wreath of white poppies to the war memorial in Walthamstow, north-east London on Remembrance Sundays in the 1930s.

Nevertheless, I did develop an interest, some might argue a rather morbid one, in commemoration at a relatively early age. An old boy of my grammar school, also in Walthamstow, visited one day and delivered a talk to the assembled students on his hobby, namely, Essex churches.

This, coupled with my love of cycling and the fact that an English project had been set, led me to exploring parts of the county adjacent to where I lived on the edge of Epping Forest.

I spent many happy days exploring districts of Essex such as the Rodings, occasionally thwarted by locked church doors, but usually able to obtain keys from the nearby vicarages after dire warnings about the perils of brass-rubbing. I learnt to keep records of my travels, initially to help me with my school project, but sadly these have all been lost over the years.

So the chance in later life to visit war memorials, many of which are located either in, or close to, village churches came as something of a personal renaissance. True, the bicycle has been replaced by the car, and the Internet allows exact directions and sometimes photographs to be obtained prior to the trips. However, there is still a thrill to be found in discovering these objects of remembrance.

By late July, I had planned a trip to Powys in order to view a dozen scheduled memorials all within a fifteen-mile radius of Llanfair Caereinion, a place that I had visited briefly when taking a journey on the Welshpool-Llanfair Light Railway during a holiday in 1999. The University of Huddersfield for whom I work allowed me study leave and I booked in at the Goat Hotel for four nights practically opposite the war memorial in the town.

I scheduled visits to three war memorials to the north and east of Llanfair Caereinion on my way over but, as I was to quickly discover, unscheduled stops along the way were always possible and added to the sense of discovery.

One of the prettiest locations I encountered that day was in Middletown, a village just in Powys, and midway between Shrewsbury and Welshpool.

A bright war memorial in the forefront of the All Saints churchyard contrasted with the beautiful trees and hills in the background on what turned out to be a warm and sunny day. Particularly moving for me was the fact that whilst the First World War fallen were identified by initial and surname only, the sole woman who perished was recognised by use of her forename.

Also the inscription 'erected by public subscription' showed how ordinary local people had had a real stake in the unveiling of the war memorial in their village, albeit within the confines of the churchyard.

The first full day saw me travelling south and west of my base in Llanfair Caereinion. Climbing Town Hill above Montgomery was on of the highlights of the entire trip and, once again, to read of its erection by public subscription, this time in 1923 for all of the fallen from Montgomeryshire, was deeply moving.

The rededication of the monument in 2002, following repairs made necessary by an earth tremor in the 1990s, proved people's continuing devotion to the cause of remembrance.

True, Heritage lottery money was made available, but donations for the continued upkeep of this fifty feet high memorial to the fallen of two world wars can still be made at Montgomery Post Office in the town.

The magnificence of this Portland stone monument erected on a hill standing at 1,050 feet was in direct contrast to a memorial I had found by chance earlier that day in the centre of the parish church grave yard in Castle Caereinion.

For those observers who feel that memorials represent an anachronism, the simple inscription on the left hand side of the plinth to a corporal who fell in Iraq in 2003 is a sad reminder of the topicality of war and commemoration.

One of the reasons for choosing Llanfair Caereinion as a place in which to stay was the fascinating war memorial situated there, partly in the spiritual grounds of St. Mary's Church, and partly on the secular pavement alongside the High Street. I was also drawn there by the fact that a local man, Leon Mills-Evans, had published a book in late 2007 about both the memorial and the fallen who it commemorates.

By turning simple inscriptions on a war memorial into characters, he had for me established an even greater poignancy and, on meeting Leon at the church on Sunday morning, it was noticeable during our conversation just how much dedication he had put into the production of his book. Three artefacts within St. Mary's Church reinforce the spirit of remembrance in the town, including an inscription carved on the right hand end of the altar and dedicated by a couple to their serviceman son lost in France during the D. Day Landings.

A visit to the local library proved fruitful, and Maureen Jones, the branch librarian, was kind enough to lend me a copy of a book written and compiled in 1991 by Pryce which acted as a useful archive of Llanfair Caereinion.

Unlike the memorials that I had visited in England where they tended to be either in a churchyard or on a street corner, the siting of the monument in the town, partly on church and partly on public land, had intrigued me, and I developed my own theory as to the reason for this. The photographic archive confirmed this. When planning the memorial before it was unveiled in late 1922, worshippers at St. Mary's had wanted it to be situated entirely within the confines of the churchyard. However, chapel goers, such as the Methodists and Baptists, dominated the town council and had other ideas. So, as Pryce pointed out: 'a compromise was to site the memorial so that it straddles the churchyard wall'.

Llanfair Caereinion was not alone in facing this dilemma. Llanerfyl, a village that I had visited earlier in my trip, found itself in a same situation and solved this conflict between religious traditions in a similar fashion. Whilst both Middletown and Llanfair Caereinion war memorials were amongst my dozen scheduled visits, the war memorial in the centre of the village of Dolanog ( see picture at the top of the page), to the north west of where I was based, and across the lane from St John. the Evangelist Parish Church of Pontdolanog, was found purely by chance.

Not unique to this monument in Powys, but nevertheless inspiring, was the way in which although details of the First World War fallen feature rightfully on the front of the monument, those who served and returned are also acknowledged on both the left and right hand sides. This, coupled with the Welsh flag flying in a field immediately behind the railings at the back of the memorial, seemed to encapsulate the positive and topical nature of these village monuments.

As villages lose their post offices, shops close down and public houses are changed to alternative uses, war memorials appear to take on a greater sense of focus for rural and small communities.

As Walter suggested, in a book written in 1990, and when referring to the particular London suburb in which he grew up:' having no natural focus like a village green or old parish church ... the memorial to those who died in the First World War became the focal point'.

So, whilst I may continue to have serious misgivings about the morality of armed conflict as a means to solving disputes between nations, this no longer precludes me from taking a serious and keen interest, both academically and emotionally, in the subject of war memorials.

In a sense, I wish that they did not exist, but I have an enormous and growing respect for the men and women who made their construction necessary.

As Maimonides the twelfth century Jewish philosopher stated: ''Make learning a regular habit. Do not say: 'I'll learn if I have time'. You may never have time''.

Article written by Colin Walker