Saturday 11 November 2006

Remembrance Day

When I was younger, I thought I had all the answers. I had no understanding of why someone would go to war. I had devoured Wilfred Owen's war poem "Dulce et Decorum Est" in highschool. I thought its message needed to be shouted from the rooftops. War was wrong, not glorious and wonderful. I was so angry that soldiers were allowed to believe the old lie. How could it possibly be noble to die for one's country? How could they have it so wrong?

I was sad that veterans had died, but I was also angry that they insisted on glorifying war and violence.

How could I have had it so wrong?

In 1998, Steven Spielberg created "Saving Private Ryan". The movie generated a lot of buzz. I wasn't interested in yet another "war is cool" movie so I wasn't going to watch it.

Just before the movie opened, I came across a television show interviewing veterans of the Second World War. These men had just finished watching a screening of "Saving Private Ryan" and were being asked how they felt about the movie and its portrayal of war.

These men, decorated soldiers all, strong men who had lived through a World War and come back to the rest of their lives, were moved. Many to tears.

They explained that the opening scene of the movie was the first time anyone had ever shown on film what it was actually like to step onto the beach at Normandy and face the pure horror that awaited them. The veterans talked about the movie showing war as it actually was; a terrifying, horrible, gory, deafening, overwhelming hell on earth. A time when you were luckiest if you died quickly. They talked about their teenage selves confronted with seeing their best buddy die in their arms or in front of their eyes as the bullets exploded around them. Their stories were riveting. Their reactions to the movie even more so.

So I went. I watched, I learned, I felt, I was horrified, I cried, and finally, I understood.

That movie showed me what those men had had to live through. It helped me understand what they had to endure. It showed me that the sacrifices those young men and women made during the first and second World Wars was beyond my imagining. It showed me that I was wrong.

I was wrong to have felt so self-righteously that I did not give respect to the men and women who fought for freedom so many years ago. Never had I been so wrong.

I do not believe in war. I do not believe in violence.

But, I do believe that the veterans who were part of the first and second World Wars deserve my thanks, my respect, and my honouring them and their memory.

I am sorry. I am sorry I thought I knew it all. I am sorry I did not respect their choices. I am sorry I didn't know what they went through. I am sorry they had to see what they did. I am sorry they had to go to war. And I want to thank them, today, on Remembrance Day.

To the veterans of World Wars I and II, thank you.

Thank you for your sense of duty and your sacrifice. Thank you for my freedoms and rights.

I will carry your torch. I will remember you.

11/11/2006













"In Flander's Fields"

By John McCrae

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
In Flanders fields.

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 grow
In Flanders fields.

Lest we forget.