Fading Memory

Yeah I was on parade at the cenotaph yesterday, and maybe more so than in years past there was quite a turn out. I do enjoy the fact that I have been recognized for my efforts, however as my platoon warrant stated the week before: "We don't go out there for us. We go there for the Vets." One could argue that having served in a war zone I would be considered a veteran, but in all honesty I am very hesitant to think of myself that way. If anything I would rather have one of the older Veterans bestow that title upon me rather than usurp it forthwith. But anyhow....

Ideal weather conditions at the cenotaph made me wonder why there wasn't double the crowd there usually is. I could understand the reason for it in years past since November the 11th is usually penned in on the schedule as 'cold as hell', so standing around freezing ones ass off for a couple of hours might seem to be not so pleasant. However this year it was nice, and there seemed to be a few more people, however it seemed as well that there should have been more. But who wants to come out to see a bunch of old war-mongering has-beens, who were probably stationed at home during the second world war? And we might as well forget about Korea. No one remembers it anyways. Peacekeepers? Bah. Never saw a shot fired in anger once, so who cares about their stories? And Afghanistan is nothing but a war we got suckered into by George W., and we aren't winning it anyways right?

Wow. Just writing that last bit left an awful taste in my mouth. I'm angry just thinking about it. I honestly believe that many Canadians feel this way about their military members past and present. Something has crept into our culture that says that service to ones country is a sham, foolish, and borderline shameful. Everyone seems to be out for themselves, and their comfort is all that matters. "Why waste my time spending an hour outside on a brisk fall morning, listening to some old guy drone on about remembering? I've got a pheasant in the oven, and friends coming over to have some brunch. I can't be bothered...." One hour a year roughly. One hour a year doesn't even mount to a full week of time over the course of a persons life. Some of the older Veterans spent years away from home. Some fought in two wars. Some slept in trenches for weeks, some froze to death during the long winter nights. One hour a year....

I can barely write I'm so mad right now. If it wasn't anger driving me through this, I would be wallowing in despair at the thought that sacrifice and circumstantial heroism means nothing to today's generation. The thought that a legacy that I carry on this day is nothing but an irritation to those who now consider the military to be a shameful occupation, causes me no end of rage. I, and thousands of other before me, had joined for various reasons. But one thing is clear: we had never considered our service to be shameful, never considered it a waste of time. And not one of those nay-sayers would consider trading their comforts, their lattes, and SUV's, central heating, and complaining about their boss and the like, for the job that we have to do. Sure when it comes down to it they would pat us on the back and say 'Well done', only to have the memory fade again years down the road. Their memory is keen up until the point when war and conflict seem to be gone from our country forever. Then soldiers become nothing but state sponsored thugs, bent on creating conflict rather than helping to solve it. People only remember our forces now for their U.N. Peacekeeping efforts, choosing to take the high road socially, but even then choose not to attend a cenotaph to honour those who served there. Moreover the point of Peacekeeping, noble as it may be, still does not reflect what the military is designed to do: defend the nation from a perceivable threat at home or abroad. We carry out the will of the nation by order of the elected Prime Minister. We do the jobs that are unthinkable to all those who cannot be bothered, or are to afraid to face the fact that war; as long as humans still rule this world, is inevitable, and conflict always possible. They cry for an end to war telling us that we should lay down arms to promote world peace, not getting the fact that we are not the only ones in this world, and the moment we lay down arms, someone will take up those arms and turn against us. The safety and sovereignty of Canada lays squarely on the backs of the soldiers. If we fail, then Canada will cease to be a nation, and a new flag will fly atop the Peace Tower.

I only wish it that regular people understand what we, as soldiers, are willing to do on their behalf. I once asked a gentleman that I worked with what he would do if war broke out again. His response: "It's not my war." "Even if someone attacked Canada?" I asked. "There's no way I would join the military. No one should join the military. It's stupid. And besides who is going to attack us?" I've since left that job, and moved on to another one, which was the right thing considering everyone that worked there was more or less of the same mindset. After all he clearly didn't understand that by proxy my brothers and I were willing to preserve his selfish way of life by laying down our lives. Sometimes you have to take the good with the bad.

But I would have to wonder what would happen the one time if these people were threatened with war on their doorstep, and the military decided they'd had enough of the bad mouthing, mudslinging, and trampling of the proud traditions, and bravery of those who do serve. Instead of standing in front of the oncoming deluge, what if we quietly turned our back and let the selfish take the brunt of the onslaught? Again just writing that left a bad taste, as it goes against everything I believe in militarily. For we defend the masses for the terrors of war, and in the end we are remembered only by the ones we loved, for the memory of the nation is spotty at best, and chooses to forget our history which in many ways is shaped by deeds on the battlefield. Everyone has heard of places like Vimy Ridge, Normandy, and the like. Huge battles ingrained in the memory of the land, but in many cases this is all they know. They forgot about places like Ypres, Hill 70, The Battle For the Scheldt, Ortona, and many others too numerous to mention here. All later generations know is what the teacher told them, mixed with speculation and opinion over time, only to come to the conclusion that there would be no war if there were no warriors, and forgetting that it was those warriors they disregard that were the ones who were ready to stand up when no one else would.

So, bitterness aside, I am still proud to be on the parade ground every November 11th, even if only one kid shows up to lay a wreath for the fallen. Hopefully memory will return, keeping the poppies red that day. So long as I'm still alive though, those colours won't run.

The Freeman