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I've often been told that it's unusual for someone my age to observe Remembrance Day the way I do. People assume that I must have close family ties to someone who served, and my grandfather did serve with the merchant marines, but that's not why. The best answer that I can think of is that I know and once you know you cannot unknow. I've read letters from the front, seen photos, heard stories. I've studied the maps, military strategies and politics. I've seen the tears of those that served as they remember the ones that aren't here with them. Every November 11 I step away from my life to stand outside in the cold, with a poppy on my coat, because I know.
I suppose I could date it back to my brief stint with the Girl Guides. It was my first and only year of Brownies when I was chosen to be one of the flag bearers in my community's Remembrance Day ceremony. I honestly couldn't tell you which flag it was that we carried (possibly the Canadian one) but I remember there was solemnity to the ceremony. Since I was standing at the front of the ceremony facing the entire audience I had to pay attention. I really had to listen. That was the day it started to sink in. It was the beginning of my knowing.
For our thanks, in giving, if oft delayed,
Though our freedom was bought - and thousands paid!
And so, when we see a poppy worn,
Let us reflect on the burden borne
By those who gave their very all
When asked to answer their country's call
That we at home in peace might live.
Then wear a poppy! Remember - and Give!
- Why Wear a Poppy, Don Crawford
The next Remembrance Day that I recall having significance was my first one in university. You see, where I grew up Remembrance Day was not a school day. I was literally stunned when I got to university to find out that not only were there classes on Remembrance Day but there was no formal recognition of the day on campus. STUNNED. This was a school where there were memorials to those students who served spattered about the campus. It was at this campus where I studied history and I'd find the name of the school pop up in history books connected with Canada's involvement in the two World Wars. I took an entire course in Canadian military history there, and there men in that class that whose careers would be in the military. It was largely because of this school that I can say "I know." It was also here that I studied anthropology and the importance of rite and ritual - of ceremonies. And yet there was no recognition of the men and women who called it their alma mater when they were on the front lines.
It wasn't until after university that I'd attend another Remembrance Day ceremony. The year after I graduated they started holding a ceremony, between classes, at my school. What stands out for me that year wasn't the ceremony, but the moment when I asked my boss if he had any objections to me leaving work briefly to attend. Once he recovered from his surprise it was no problem (and I've never had a problem with an employer when I've asked to take time off to attend). The following year several more people at that company joined me for the service.
When I moved to Toronto I started attending the ceremony at Old City Hall. While I was surprised by how few people attended the ceremony (relative to the amount of people in the downtown core at least), my heart was happy with the emotions there. I remember one man in particular. He was in military uniform, wearing the blue beret of Canadian peacekeepers. His pin with P.P.C.L.I identified him as part of the Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry. He was a long way from home. And I remember how a parent with her two children went up to him and asked him questions - about the beret, about his uniform - and how they thanked him. It was also there that I really started to see the first of the modern day veterans and started seeing families lay wreaths for the Canadians that have died in Afghanistan.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies
