More remembrance.

I have to say that I am sad to hear through Aaron and Lisa that there seems to be a lack of poppies around the U of A. After all, it's not like this was some kind of surprise event, it's been going on for a long time. When you think that the end of World War II was in 1945...it was over 60 years ago that it all ended.

It's strange and kind of scary to think that I am only slightly older than the average age of a soldier in WWII, which was 26. I could not even begin to imagine what it would be like to be in a landing craft heading towards a beach on D-Day. To have to rush the beach and hope to make it to cover, just so that you could move further forward and take out the German positions...but what about the Germans? Would it be any better to be them? Stuck on the hill in a little bunker, seeing boat after boat of men coming to kill you. Hell, if that was me I would have shit myself just as bad as if I had been one of the guys in the boats.

I think that is one of the greatest losses in our interpretation or understanding of war, the loss of humanity. We always see ourselves as right and good, and the enemy is some kind of monster that is absolute evil. But is that really the case? Now don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that the Nazis were good, what was done by Nazi Germany was pure evil without question. Yet, the majority of those who were seen as the enemy, those who were on the front lines dieing, were just young men about my age. Yes they had been sold a lot of propaganda to get them to the point of being willing to fight what they were told was the good fight, but other than that they were no different from those they were fighting. Hell the only difference was the source of the propaganda.

When I think of it I have to acknowledge the fact that at one point in time my grandfather, who was a Major with the Vitoria Rifles of Canada, was doing all he could to kill the grandfather of a good friend, who just happened to be a German General. Fortunately for both of us they survived. And clearly, by how my friend turned out his grandfather probably wasn't some horrid monster, he was just a soldier, doing his duty. The same is likely for the relatives of any of the Germans that I have meet in my life. And I'm sure like my grandfather, they had all kinds of scars from what happened to them.

Only my father's father was involved in WWII, along with my father's uncle. Both have passed away, my great uncle died two years ago, I can't even remember how long ago it was that my grandfather died, it might be going on 20 years now. But they were both fortunate, they survived the war, they were both physically healthy as far as I could tell, and they had the chance to live full lives. But I do wonder what their lives truly were like, for I'm certain that thought they bore no physical scars, the emotional ones certainly were there.

I wish that I had had the chance to sit down with my grandfather, to learn what he went through, if for no other reason than to honour the sacrifice that he had made. But I was far too young to understand that concept. On top of that I have the feeling that he may not have wanted to discuss it, some things are best left buried. I know that I could have had the chance to talk to my great-uncle about his experiences, I was old enough to understand them then. But I also got the sense that he would not want to talk about it. I don't know if it was something my family may have mentioned to me. But seeing him at family gatherings it would seem to me that there was a sad quietness to him, not often, but every now and then I recall seeing something different about him. I don't really know what it was that he was dealing with, if there was anything at all . But after well over 50 years, I doubt that talking to some 20 something kid would have helped matters any.

I guess what saddens me most is that I never did properly thank them. To let them know that I will be eternally grateful for the sacrifices that they made. That the loss of friends, of youth, of innocence, will never be forgotten. That it made a difference in the world, and that I cry every time I think of how much they and all soldiers suffered through. I feel the same pity for all those who have to fight a war that others devise.

I guess that is what Remembrance Day really is supposed to be. So you will have to forgive me if I don't got to a ceremony or visit their graves. I will remember them in my own way, and it is something that I will do without ceremony, without realization of a specific date, for the rest of my life.