My grandfather was in the Royal Canadian Army during WWI while he was in his mid to late twenties.  Because of a medical condition, he was not sent overseas but he never-the-less served in Canada in a support role.  For years, I had his old army sleeping bag across the end of my bed and cherished it.  Near the end of WWII, my father lied about his age just a little and joined the Royal Canadian Navy serving as a radioman aboard the Prince Robert.  The Prince Robert, according to my father, went in and out of Tokyo harbour and others picking up Allied POWs and probably laying mines, although he wasn’t as clear about that.  His sister, my favourite auntie, joined the Women’s RCN Service aka WRCNS OR WRENS, as an occupational therapist.  My stepfather enlisted in the Royal Canadian Army and became a paratrooper dropping into Belgium, Holland and northern France during the liberation.  Like so many, none of my relatives talked much about their wartime experiences.  There was no glory!  There was duty! When I enquired during high school about joining the military, I was told at the time that I could not because I was a woman.  But one thing I could do was to show up at the Cenotaph and give thanks for the dedication of those who served and those who died during the First and Second World Wars and the Korean Conflict.  For me, it was a very personal journey, a sacred journey, because I reasoned, even as a young teen, that someone else had fought or died rather than a member of my family.  For their sacrifice, I owed them a debt of gratitude.  You can see some of my previous Remembrance Day posts at https://www.7thstep.org/blog/2017/11/11/in-remembrance-in-flanders-fields/ and https://www.7thstep.org/blog/2012/11/11/lest-we-forget/ with additional pictures.

Because of COVID-19, 2020 is very different but but no less poignant.  As noted by the Vancouver Sun,

Many city officials, as well as B.C.’s premier, asked folks to stay home given the severity of COVID-19 situation in B.C., especially in the Fraser and Coastal health regions.

I should also note that front-line workers, doctors, nurses and other medical staff were remembered as well for their service to the community during 2020’s war, the Coronavirus pandemic.  This also involved Canadian Armed Forces medical personnel playing a big role in Québec and Ontario in nursing homes.

Well, I did just that, and as usual, tears flowed down my cheeks.  Here is a video of Vancouver’s Remembrance Service.

“We remember, and we are free. Simple words, heavy with significance because on this day we remember those who served and those who gave their lives,”

There are many iconic photographs from wars passed. 

“Wait for me, Daddy!”

WWII Canadian Troops marching down 8th Ave in New Westminster, BC in preparation for deployment to Europe in 1940 and little Warren “Whitey” Bernard breaking free of his mother’s hand to go to his father.

WWI Canadian troops in a bombed out German trench at Vimy Ridge 1917.

WWI Canadian troops returning from a nasty but successful (as if war is truly successful) campaign at Vimy Ridge in 1917.

And who can forget the poem “In Flanders Fields” written by Lt Colonel Dr 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.

– John McCrae

But McCrae’s experiences at Ypres had altered him irreparably. John F. Prescott, the author of his 1985 biography, wrote: “He was never again the optimistic man with the infectious smile. His friends spoke of his change in temperament in subdued voices, feeling, as one said, that an icon had been broken.” His inseparable companions were his horse, Bonfire, who had accompanied him to the front, and his dog, Bonneau, an adopted war orphan.

On January 24, 1918, McCrae received word that he had been appointed consulting physician to the British armies in France—the first Canadian to achieve that rank. But by then his health was failing. He had suffered from asthma most of his life, but the condition had been exacerbated by the poison gas used by the Germans at Ypres. That night, he took to his bed with a headache and the next day diagnosed himself with pneumonia. He was transferred to a military hospital at Wimereux, just up the coast from Boulogne, France.

At 1:30 a.m. on January 28, McCrae died of double pneumonia and meningitis. The following day he was buried with full military honours in the Wimereux cemetery. Bonfire led the parade decked in white ribbon, with McCrae’s riding boots reversed in the stirrups. A hundred nursing sisters in cap and veil stood in line at the cemetery. One later wrote, “To the funeral all came as we did because we loved him so.”

Bonfire, McCrae’s horse who lead the funeral procession.

THANK YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE AND SACRIFICE!

LEST WE FORGET!!!