My first memory of a Remembrance Day Ceremony is when I was 5 years old. I didn't entirely understand who it was we were remembering, but the somber atmosphere made a lasting impression. This was important.
I was twelve when I became fully aware the Grampa Hare had fought in World War II as well as his two brothers. And that one of them didn't come back. I remember finding out that my Great Grandfather had fought at Vimy and lived.
I was fifteen when I joined Air Cadets. In Orillia, and I think every where in Canada, it is tradition to hold vigil at the local Cenotaph. We stood vigil in 15 minute shifts over the night regardless of the weather. It poured rain that year. I remember being angry at some of the younger cadets for whining. I remember my parents arriving later in the evening (10pm or so) with freshly baked muffins and cookies to help warm us up. We hardly faced anything as trying as what those who we were honouring..
It was after I joined Air Cadets that my grandfather began to talk about what he went through during the war to us. We heard about the antics and jokes they played on each other to keep the fear at bay. The agonizing fear as they sat for four days in their torpedoed ship waiting for rescue. Only a handful of men died on their ship, one of them was my grandfather's friend. He told us about how he lied to get into the navy by using his brother's birth certificate. These were things he had never mentioned or discussed openly. He has since recorded his memories and until this year gone to schools to talk about his experiences. This year he is recuperating from heart surgery and only just went home from the hospital on Wednesday..
The next year I stood vigil despite being told not because of my knee injury. The Warrant Officer accidentally left us out around midnight for almost 45 minutes. I was in agony, but I refused to collapse while standing vigil. I waited to collapse till we had officially passed our duty over to the next shift. I was not allowed back on shift for the rest of the night because my knee had swollen up to the size of a grapefruit and they made me go get looked at by a doctor (the Orillia Cenotaph is in front of the hospital). I remember sitting with those of my age grouping though higher in rank because of how late I started age wise. I remember discussing where and how our grandfathers had fought. I was supposed to be part of the group that stood vigil through the actual Remembrance Day ceremony, but because the doctor had said I was to stay off my knee as much as possible they gave me the honour of laying the wreath for our squadron instead.
Seventeen. I had quit Air Cadets because between school and working a part time job I couldn't give the commitment it required and I wasn't going to do it half way. My friend Vicki was directing the Remembrance Day presentation for our high school that year. She had written a play using some of the students who had gone to war in WW I and WW II. She had talked with some of their relatives.
I was the assistant stage manager. I ended up being in the cast because 9 days before the performance one of the girls quit. Now I am not an actor. At that time I could barely get up in front of my class to speak. But Vicki convinced me that I could do this and that I could do this to honour our grandfathers and the students of our school. I was the only one who of the girls who could be heard the entire presentation.
When I was eighteen I took it upon myself as my OAC Drama Directing Project to both write and direct the Remembrance Day presentation that year. It wasn't perfect, but it made a lasting impression on some of the people involved.
I remember giving the play to my grandparents and my Gramma Hare crying and thanking me for making sure they were not forgotten.
I went back to get my missing OAC when I was nineteen. Again I wrote and directed the presentation. This play was written around the poem In Flanders Field by Lt. Col. John McCrae. Even though the teacher's went on strike we still continued with rehersals and it was by fluke we still got to present because the teachers who we were supposed to report to happened to come in as a group to dinner at the restaurant I worked at.
The presentation was well received. I was thanked by almost all of the teachers and the principal.
I then quit school because I had gained enough hours at work to be almost full time and I didn't need the last OAC to go to College.
After that I just made sure to go to the local Remembrance Day ceremonies or watch them on tv when I could. It was hard when I was working at the center because neither center even acknowledged the day and we were not allowed to talk about it at all.
Having tried to explain to William what Remembrance Day is this year, I can understand a bit where they were coming from. He really doesn't get what it is about. What war is.. he sorta understands that it means fighting, but he wants to see the fighting because he needs a context. He has no context beyond what little fighting he has seen in movies (thanks Cars 2). He at least understands that war is not a game and that it is not something fun.
Working from home I have talked with the older children about Remembrance Day. What it means and why we do it. They all responded well and gave great insight at times into the day's importance.
William is wild this morning. We opted to stay home instead of going to the local Ceremony where I think he wouldn't have been able to cope. Especially since it snowed for the 25 minutes during the Ceremony time here. He did however stop and observe the two minutes of silence unprompted by me. The fact that everyone on tv had stopped talking had caught his attention and he just stopped, watched and waited.
It bothers me a bit that Andrew doesn't understand why it is so important. He disdains the armed forces yet his own grandfather flew in the War.
No I don't condone war, but those men and women didn't die for nothing. They fought for our freedom. Was it the most ideal way to gain our freedom? No, but then it seems ingrained in our society to dissolve into beating each other up to stop the other. It has gotten better, but we still live in a world where violence and war are present.
Being disdainful or disgusted with those who chose to fight is a disservice to those who died fighting, those who fought and those who choose to fight now. They did or are doing something a lot of us couldn't imagine doing. They are doing the dirty work that we would like to pretend doesn't exist.
And that is why it is important to Remember.
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