They stand so proud at the memorial ceremony, holding up a sharp salute to the side of their teary eyes as TAPS is played, flags slowly lower and we all acknowledge two minutes of silence, while they remember what I try so hard to imagine.
You can see the years of memories that flood their minds as they remember their friends and brothers who so valiantly fought at their side, shared stories of their loved ones in a muddy foxhole, conveyed their inner fears in those intimate moments most of us will never share yet try to understand.
To many of us the medals on their chests illustrate a story of battles won, of valiant charges and successful campaigns. To them they represent pained memories of a best friend crying out in as he was comforted in his final moments. Memories of being cold, wet, hungry and in fear yet still holding a brave face, wondering whether they would see a family member or loved one again.
I make it a goal to meet a new WWII veteran each remembrance day, to shake his/her hand and offer my heartfelt thanks for their selfless actions that have provided the freedoms that I enjoy so much today.
As we shake hands, I get shivers as I realize this hand that now holds mine was once in a foreign nation that was trying to take away my freedoms. Holding a gun, pulling an fallen soldier to his feet, holding a bandage on a wounded brother, digging a foxhole to protect himself while he tried fruitlessly to sleep off another exhausting day, wondering if he would even see another day.
All I can offer are my prayers and a few simple words of thanks, which seems so insignificant when faced with such a valiant and powerful man who I really may owe my life to.
Lest we forget our brave grandparents,parents, sons, daughters, friends and allies on this day of remembrance.
It’s hard to find just words to show the gratitude I feel for the sacrifices that these brave men and women have made, soldiers who gave so much to provide the freedoms which I am so blessed with today.
This simple poem will at least let them know I haven’t forgotten;
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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.
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May God bless all our soldiers who so bravely and selflessly put their lives forth to defend the great freedoms that we should be so honoured to have today.
I have walked and spoken freely all of my life and I have never known anything else, though I have tried hard to imagine what life would be like, if it were not for these service men and women. It is all but impossible to fathom as it is not a life I have had to live and for that I am forever grateful.
My thoughts and prayers go out to them all, may God bless you all and bring you home safely.