Lord’s to LoC: A Museum That Jogs Generational Memory of Cricket & Conflict

South Asians know all too well how cricket gets enmeshed in the politics of identity, pride and national narratives.

"Lord’s isn’t just a cricket ground. It’s also been a military camp, a fire station, and a symbol of survival."

(Photo: Altered by Vibhushita Singh/The Quint)

Just a few days ago, Indian cricket fans were glued to their screens, watching the gripping Test match unfold at the iconic Lord’s stadium in London, England. But beyond the epic contests and tactical masterclasses, there was another reminder lurking in the background.

Cricket has never been just about the game. It co-exists with history, politics, and sometimes even the grim realities of conflict, especially in South Asia, where the sport is deeply intertwined with national identity and politics.

The crucial test at Lord’s was played exactly two months after the Indian Premier League (IPL) saw a sudden suspension this year, amid escalating border tensions between India and Pakistan.

It wasn’t just the players who went silent, fans and stadiums did too. A chilling echo of how sport is often hostage to forces far beyond the boundary ropes.

Cricket and Conflict

As I walked into Lord’s Cricket Ground to cover the India-England Test, I couldn’t help but think about this tricky relationship between cricket and conflict. Curiosity led me a few steps away from the main action, through the historic Pavilion, to a quieter space - the MCC Museum. I had always heard about it as the home of the original Ashes urn and the Prudential World Cup that India won in 1983, but soon realised it is something far more profound. Here, cricket’s resilience is on display, especially its ability to endure during the harshest chapters of history, including World War II.

When I spoke to Neil Robinson, the head of Heritage and Collections, MCC, he mentioned something that struck me. 

“Lord’s isn’t just a cricket ground. It’s also been a military camp, a fire station, and a symbol of survival.”

Indeed, during World War II, Lord’s was no ordinary sports venue. It was transformed into a ground for military training, air-raid drills, even an emergency fire station. During the Blitz, the ground bore witness to London’s darkest hours. One particularly haunting image in the museum shows players lying flat on the turf, taking cover from air raids, embodying the spirit of defiance and endurance that cricket represented even as bombs fell nearby.

Buildings on the Nursery Ground housed RAF Balloon Barrages and the Lord’s Pavilion served as an Aircrew Reception area where many recruits got their first taste of service life. The museum walls are full of rare photographs, cricketers in army fatigues, letters from the frontlines, and even makeshift cricket matches in prisoner-of-war camps. These quiet exhibits speak volumes about how cricket became a source of morale, memory, and meaning in times of fear and loss.

I couldn’t help but notice the parallels. Our region knows all too well how cricket gets entangled in the politics of identity, pride, and national narratives. From countless cancelled India-Pakistan tours to the recent IPL suspension, the sport remains a mirror to our social and political anxieties.

The Lord’s Museum isn’t just a vault of English cricketing history , it speaks to every cricket lover, especially from South Asia. As Indian fans, we tend to see the game through the lens of big rivalries and glittering IPL moments. But a walk through the museum corridors compels you to remember that cricket is also a story of endurance.

Humanising Sport and Generational Memory

We often celebrate centuries and five-wicket hauls, but the museum tells us of cricketers who swapped their bats for rifles, turned from sportsmen into soldiers. Some never returned. Like Hedley Verity, an England spinner with remarkable skill, who died fighting in Italy in 1943. His story is a haunting reminder of the human costs of war.

And there’s Keith Miller, the Australian all-rounder, who flew bombing raids for the Royal Air Force and famously summed up his perspective,“Pressure is a Messerschmitt up your arse , not playing cricket at Lord’s.”

The museum keeps alive these human stories. It reminds us that cricketers were not just celebrities but citizens who served, suffered, and sacrificed. Their stories give the game emotional weight and historic gravitas.

For Indian cricket fans, there’s a more personal relevance. Our own cricket history, shaped through colonialism, partition, and now cross-border hostilities, is also a story of resilience. Cricket survived 1947, survived wars, and it continues to survive modern-day crises.

In my chat with Neil, we discussed how even during the worst phase of the world war, cricket didn’t vanish. Exhibition matches were held for morale, POW camps organized impromptu games, and Lord’s reopened to full houses when peace returned. It reminded me just how fragile the game was, and yet how it persisted, giving solace to those in exile and hope to those in uniform.

There’s comfort in that story. When cricket stadiums fell silent this IPL season, or when fans worry about postponed tours, the Lord’s Museum quietly provides an invaluable perspective; cricket pauses, but it doesn’t end. It comes back, often stronger, and more meaningful.

For Indian fans the Lord’s Museum offers context that is rare. The memorabilia from World Cup wins and cricketers’ autographed bats is there, yes, but so are stories of soldiers, stories of resistance, and stories of how a sport stitched together shattered communities. It is a living archive of how cricket intersects with history and transformation.

A House of Hope

Revisiting these inspiring stories offers hope, showing how cricket endured and even grew after the war as it became more diverse and resilient. As India and Pakistan regularly teeter on the edge of serious conflict, and cricket often takes a backseat, this wartime history preserved at Lord’s provides invaluable guidance. Cricket has been here before.  

In a country like India, where cricket is sometimes our only common language, these lessons matter. They remind us that the game is more than just the latest controversy or the biggest endorsement deal. It’s a survivor, a connector, and at times, a healer.

As India looks ahead to the fourth Test of the series in Manchester, the quiet exhibits at the Lord’s Museum whisper a simple truth - cricket endures! Sometimes, amid the noise of cricketing headlines, a silent walk through a museum like Lord’s can remind us why we fell in love with the game in the first place.

(Siddhaarth Mahan is a writer on sports who also works as an actor and filmmaker in the Hindi film industry. He tweets at @siddhaarthmahan. This is an opinion piece and the views expressed are the author's own. The Quint neither endorses nor is responsible for them.)