I think I might practice saluting again

 
As Remembrance Day approaches it gives us time to reflect on ourselves as Canadians.  I think back to my childhood.

Gertie and Ira were a wonderful old couple who lived not far from us in the little town where I grew up. Gertie was my favourite babysitter; she was so much fun. They had no children of their own. Ira talked funny, in a strained whispery voice. My dad said he got "gassed" in the war and that's why he talked that way.

Being a child I had no clear understanding of what that meant.  I didn't ask many questions. I just remember it was something mysterious. I later found out that Ira enlisted in the 229 Canadian Infantry Battalion in 1916 and served in the Canadian Engineers, in France. He was one of the many Canadians soldiers who were gassed by the Germans at Ypres.

Ellen and Alex lived down the street from us. I didn't know too much about them.  Ellen was the "Avon Lady".  Alex sat in a dark living room in a wheel chair and chain smoked.. My mom told me that he lost his legs in the War. I don't ever remember seeing him in the light of day. Reflecting back, knowing what I know, he was probably suffering from depression related to his war time experiences.  Even now, thinking about the interior of that house makes me feel bad for him.

As a child my impressions of war were formed by my neighbours down the street and by what my parents told me. My mom talked about ration books, lack of nylon stockings and sending letters to her brother Lloyd who was in the Air Force "overseas". My dad tried to enlist and he did not pass the physical for one reason or another; he never talked about it. His brother John was in the army, serving most of his time as a prisoner of war.

Every November we had Remembrance Day services in our school. All the Veterans from the area went from school to school in those days, doing their duty. I remember looking at their medals and staring into their solemn faces. I was impressed with how they stood so tall and still, not moving while the "Last Post" was being played. I used to practice saluting in front of the mirror when I got home.

To this day I cannot recall one single word they said to us. I have only a picture in my mind of the uniforms, the medals, the rigid posture, the serious looks, the shaking hands and the tears in their eyes. Nobody ever smiled. Those impressions have stayed with me to this day. I now know why they never smiled on that day. I can now appreciate their solemn faces, their tears and their sacrifice.  I can only guess what they endured while defending our country, for me and for all of my little friends sitting so quiet and still in our little wooden desks in a crowded stuffy classroom.

As a child, it was hard to imagine having my friends by my side one minute and then dead on the ground the next. It was not in my realm of understanding, and I am sure my mind did not want to go there even if I had been told the true horrors.

As I got older I was a real rebel, even marched in a peace rally once. I was so sure that I was right, war was wrong. I never gave it much thought as to why I even had the right to march in a public place  in the first place.

Freedom, we sometimes take it for granted. We have the freedom to read and write and speak our minds, the freedom to roam about without fear. All of those rights were secured for us by my neighbours and relatives. They fought those wars and suffered great indignities only to suffer again as they remembered in November. 

As I grew and matured I became more sensitive to the circumstances that led to why I live in such a great country. I finally acknowledged that without the sacrifices of a great many people who fought to protect us from tyrants, dictators and injustices, I would be living a much different life.

As a Canadian I have never felt prouder than when we traveled coast to coast one summer.  My pride was on my sleeve as we showed off our country to the non-Canadians who were with us. We have a wonderful nation, with the freedom to express ourselves and the freedom to move about anywhere we want to go as long as we follow the rules.

As a Canadian I am proud to display my passport when I travel to other countries; secure in the knowledge that we are welcomed there because of our citizenship.  As a Canadian I am proud to wear a poppy to remember and to fly the Canadian flag year round.

Thank you Ira and Alex, thank you Uncle John and Uncle Lloyd. Thank you to everyone for your sacrifice.

I think I might practice saluting once again.