WHY WE REMEMBER ON NOVEMBER 11

In the eleventh month, on the eleventh day and at the eleventh hour we recall the service of men who went to war for Canada. 

They were often young and untested, but proved their mettle under inhuman conditions and in hostile environments which we can only imagine. 

Self sacrifice is no longer viewed with the deep respect it once was. Since war is not fashionable, and conflict is everywhere, war is played out in distant principalities that we simply don’t know much about.

The two world conflicts were a different matter. War was waged by the peoples of the earth. Entire populations were decimated, and countries like ours entered the conflict for one reason. To fight for what was right and true, and to draw a line in the sand for aggressors and martinettes.

Our fathers, grandfathers, uncles and now our children, nephews and the young loved ones of our friends are part of a noble group of men who have committed to protecting the rights of others.

With few exceptions, the selfless, brave and powerful hearts of those who fight for our rights are bound to philosophical and patriotic arguments for and against war.

All we know is that they fight and die.  On Remembrance Day say a silent prayer or mantra that the peace which is beyond knowing, and the love which sustains us all is no longer a concept, but a reality.  Bow your head and wish for a place where there is a barrenness for war, and a fertile and bountiful place for peace. Peace and its by-product, generosity of spirit.

War is not a naturally occurring phenomenon. It is an epidemic disease of the spirit that spreads through avarice, cynicism and envy. It can only be cured by love.
Sir Ian McKellen

THIS WAS MY BROTHER AT DIEPPE

This was my brother
At Dieppe,
Quietly a hero
Who gave his life
Like a gift,
Withholding nothing.
His Youth..his love..
His enjoyment of being alive..
His future, like a book
With half the pages still uncut.
This was my brother
At Dieppe.
The one who built me a doll house
When I was seven.
Complete to the last small picture frame.
Nothing forgotten.
He was awfully good at fixing things,
At stepping into the breach when he was needed.
That's what he did at Dieppe;
He was needed.
And even death must have been a little shamed
At his eagerness

Mona Gould