Friday, November 11, 2011


Today, I'll be placing a wreath at our local cenotaph on behalf of our seniors' association.  Our members include veterans of our Canadian Forces as well as those they left behind.  Wives, daughters, mothers, sisters, sweethearts. 

And, today, I'll be remembering this young man whose mother saw him off to war never knowing if he would come home again.  The young man I never knew  because like all the young men who were excited to see something other than their small towns, hoping to learn how to fly a plane  and eager to serve their country, he left his youth very far away.  I think Dad's might be somewhere over Africa, floating in the air forever. 

My Dad did come back.  So many didn't.  Those who did - and still do because war seems to be an eternal human state- are forever changed.   I know I'll never even come close to imagining what his memories were like.


Rudee said...

They were, and are, selfless heroes. It may be a good day to reread, Flags of Our Fathers.

Sue H said...

The saddest thing of all, considering the two World Wars especially, is how young some of these men were - not old enough to vote but old enough to sacrifice their lives.

And for some, yes, it was an adventure - sadly for many of them the reality of what they were facing did not take long to present itself.

I'm thankful my Father and my Grandfather both did their bit and survived (more or less intact) and lived to tell at least some of their stories, but I think both men went to their graves with unknown terrors still locked in their hearts.


Ginny said...

This is your dad and his mom? A super picture. I guess he was changed forever when he returned, so sad. But great that he DID return!


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