To our vets: Thank You
At 11:11 in the morning 90 years ago tomorrow, my grandfather climbed out of a trench, stared at the sky, and realized he had survived the Great War, the War to End All Wars.
His brother had not, killed days after his 18th birthday. They were supposed to go on leave and meet in Paris to celebrate. They never got the chance.
A generation later, my grandfather waved goodbye to two other young men: his son and his future son-in-law. They were off to yet another world war - how piteous sounded the well-meaning slogan of his own War, it did not turn out to be the War to End All Wars, merely the preview for the next generation's war. The last thing he did was to gave his pocket watch to his son, instructing him to "bring it back".
He never did get that watch back. Some rotter purloined it off my uncle's effects while he was waiting life-saving emergency surgery on June 9, 1944. He survived the wound, but spent the rest of the war in convalescence in northern England. My uncle was embarrassed when he wrote to say that he'd lost the precious, expensive watch, but Grandfather sternly advised him he'd rather lose a hundred (expletives deleted) watches than one son, even if they were made of gold and smothered in jewels.
All of these gallant gentlemen I've mentioned are gone now, along with another great-uncle who fought in the first War and manned a desk in the Second.
Canada's remaining World War II veterans are dying off at the rate of 500 a week. We have about 135,000 left. We only have one WWI vet left, aged 108, and he had served in a "boys' battalion" in England. To all of those veterans of Canada's armed services and those of her allies, living and dead, serving today or long retired, I thank you all.
His brother had not, killed days after his 18th birthday. They were supposed to go on leave and meet in Paris to celebrate. They never got the chance.
A generation later, my grandfather waved goodbye to two other young men: his son and his future son-in-law. They were off to yet another world war - how piteous sounded the well-meaning slogan of his own War, it did not turn out to be the War to End All Wars, merely the preview for the next generation's war. The last thing he did was to gave his pocket watch to his son, instructing him to "bring it back".
He never did get that watch back. Some rotter purloined it off my uncle's effects while he was waiting life-saving emergency surgery on June 9, 1944. He survived the wound, but spent the rest of the war in convalescence in northern England. My uncle was embarrassed when he wrote to say that he'd lost the precious, expensive watch, but Grandfather sternly advised him he'd rather lose a hundred (expletives deleted) watches than one son, even if they were made of gold and smothered in jewels.
All of these gallant gentlemen I've mentioned are gone now, along with another great-uncle who fought in the first War and manned a desk in the Second.
Canada's remaining World War II veterans are dying off at the rate of 500 a week. We have about 135,000 left. We only have one WWI vet left, aged 108, and he had served in a "boys' battalion" in England. To all of those veterans of Canada's armed services and those of her allies, living and dead, serving today or long retired, I thank you all.