Lest We forget.

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

So there I was just stopping by McD’s for a little bite to eat. I took my meal and since they have a tendency to screw you whether you use the drive through or not I checked my bag. Sure enough, they forgot my pies. This is not a rant against people who work in fast food establishments because what do you expect from people who get minimum wage anyways?

When I returned to the counter to get my pies one of the girls was asking some of the other staff why they got extra pay for working on November the 11th. The best answer any of them came up with was someting about remembering dead soldiers. I just stood there with a look of stunned amazement on my face. I could not believe what I was hearing from these people.

When I was a kid everything was closed on Remembrance Day. We always followed the procession to the centre of town to participate in the laying of the wreaths and the ceremonies to remember those who gave up their lives for us. It didn’t matter how cold it was because there was simply no excuse for not going.

My Great Grandfather was a member of the Black Watch regiment and fought the Germans in World War One. He and his fellow Scots went against the might of the Germans and though they were often outnumbered and outgunned they prevailed. He came home while many of his friends did not.

I saw a documentary where a German soldier was speaking of his experiences in the war and he spoke of the Black Watch regiment. They had enjoyed success in all their missions and overrun many allied units. They felt that they were unstoppable. Then they met the soldiers who wore kilts and fought like no others had. It got to the point where they would give up well defended positions if they heard the sound of bagpipes knowing that they would be slaughtered if they stayed. This old Hun said he had never faced braver men who just refused to give any quarter and had no regard for their own lives. A man fighting for his home and family is indeed a dangerous adversary.

My uncle was there in World War two fighting against the evil that was the Third Reich. He was an Alberta farm boy who had never been anywhere before war was declared. I cannot imagine his horror as he helped liberate the victims of the concentration camps. I do know this horror stayed with him through his whole life. He would not attend any ceremonies and forbade anyone from talking about the war because he did not want to revisit that time in his life. I understood that. It was only at his funeral that his medals were taken out and buried with him. He was content to live his life as an anonymous hero.

So I set my things on the counter and took a little time to enlighten these young ladies still not believing that they had not been taught any of this in school.

I am afraid that at some point we will forget and the deaths of so many will have been in vain.

We must never forget.

Ever.

2

Of course we will forget. We don’t spend much time mourning those who died defending Rome and civilization (in Europe) from the Visigoths.

That said, WWI is probably borderline but for everything from WWII on it is definitely too soon.

3

If we forget then the events that led to those wars will be repeated. The problem is that people have no sense of their history. People my age (I’m 29) have no concept of what WWII was fought for or why it’s important to remember.

Some of us will always remember. Others will remain blissfully ignorant. All we can do is honor the memory of those who served and know for ourselves what their sacrifices were for.

4

My mother survived the Grrman occupation of Denmark. To this day her mother lights a candle once a year for the Aunt that none of us will know. Hannah died during an epidemic that occurred while the occupation was in full swing and medication could not get through.

One of my mother’s uncles was riding his bicycle back into town and was shot dead for no reason except that a Nazi officer had been killed that day and this was retaliation.

Another relative of my mother’s owned a fishing boat. By all “normal” appearances, he seemed to be a Nazi collaborator. This was so that he could obtain information from the occupier’s and use it when he ferried jews and other people to Sweden. At any time some young buck in the resistance could have tried to earn his stripes by killing this man as a collaborator. No one could be told that this man was not truly assisting the Nazis, that’s how valuable he was. Try to imagine the risks he took on a dialy basis.

I can still remember how, when I was a child, my mother could do a credible imitation of Hitler. She was forced to listen to his speeches on the radio and had them memorized. She took us to see “Night and Fog” and “To Die In Madrid” when we were children to etch into our minds what had happened during that time and earlier.

To this day, one look at a neo-nazi is enough to make my bile flow. Those who would rather forget should beware that one day they do not wake up in a concentration camp. We must all have an indelible memory of this horror so that it may never, ever be repeated.

5

Great thread, Feynn. And you’re absolutely right in setting those girls straight. This is not about minimum wage, low levels of education, or any such thing. We ALL should be aware of what happened. This is recent history. Our grandfathers were the ones that made the difference. How can anyone NOT know this?

And of course, I’ll put in a little plug for this thread, which some new people may not have seen yet. It’s the only self-promotion I will allow myself on these boards, because it’s so damn IMPORTANT.

Thanks for your efforts, Feynn. I’m sure these girls learned something, and that’s what matters.

6

Wonderful thread, Feynn, I hope all of us reading this will realize how important it is that we pass these lessons down to the next generation. Next year, if TinyTot can handle it, I plan to take him to the concentration camp at Dachau and telling him about the part his Great-Grandfather played in that terrible war.

7

Horray for you Feynn!!

Remembrance Day has always been an important day in my family. My grandfather served in WW I. My dad survived severe injuries in WW II and spent the rest of his life walking in pain, but was so very proud to have served.

Dad was with the Governor General’s Horse Guard. I have his medals and a picture of him in uniform hanging on my wall.

Every year I went with him to the Cenotaph for the ceremonies, stood sometimes in icy cold winds to honour those who fought to make life better for others, and when they moved some ceremonies inside, he wouldnt be part of it because he felt that those who had fought and died in the outside air should be honoured in the outside air, as do many of the veterans, so we continued to go to the outside ceremonies.

Afterwards we would head to the Legion to hear the tales of other veterans. I still go every year, to honour my dad and the others.

There is one man I pray is still here this year. For about the last 15 years this man has regailed us with his stories, his life and his losses. He was 92 last year and the only time I ever see him is after the services and I look forward to it every year. I hope he is still here.

The people I work with were upset because the 11th falls on a Saturday so we don’t get the day off as an extra “holiday”. This always baffles me that people so quickly forget our history. When I suggested we team up with another school for a small ceremony on the 10th, they were all for it, because it was less work for them.

Take a few minutes on the 11th to remember the brave people who made a difference in so many lives. Its a very small thing to ask.

8

Another remembrance…

I once knew this firey but loveable old timer named Bill, he was a WW2 veteran and his health was not very good. We would get together and play cards and he would tell me sometimes of his experiences during the war. He was on the beaches on D-day and fought all the way to Berlin. He kept all his war mementos in a large trunk and on more than one occasion showed them to me. His medal case was one of his proudest possessions and I saw that he had been awarded the VC for valorious conduct.

I met him at the mall for coffee one morning and I saw he was looking really distressed, he assured me that he was going to be okay. When I asked him what happened he said that while he was waiting a group of skinheads came and sat close to him and were making a commotion, directing more than a few slurs towards passers by. If I recall correctly it was just after Remembrance day and the sight of these teens wearing swastikas put him over the edge.

He had gotten so incensed he had gone over and confronted all of them and I quote him as saying to them: “I fought and killed you sons of bitches fifty years ago and even though I am an old man I’ll fight and kill all of you here right now”. They called him crazy and had told him to shut up and sit down. So he went after them.

Visualize an overweight, wheezing 70 year old with a pacemaker going toe to toe with a gang of thugs and picture the thugs running like hell.

I would have put my money on Bill.

As we sat there afterwards drinking coffee quite a few people who had witnessed this came by and said thank you to Bill, a few gave him a pat on the back, and there were some there who just looked at him with looks of amazement on their faces.

I will be thinking of Bill on November 11th.

9

Lest We Forget

My respect to all those served in the Armed Forces…
To some of you who are unfamiliar with the poem, please goto this site: http://www.astro.yorku.ca/~lee/rem_day.html
In Flanders Fields

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, saw dawn, felt sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up your quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
he 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.
Lt.-Col. Dr. John McCrae,
1st Field Artillery Brigade

10

Feynn…wow.

It’s sad that kids these days seem to romanticize Nazis.

My school had a Rememberence Day ceremony last year, and they’re doing it this year, too. The chorus sings the old army songs, the band plays, people come and talk to the students about the importance of remembering the veterans and those who died. The veterans in the district come, too.

Though I don’t think my church makes a huge deal out of this day, we do celebrate Memorial Day in the same way. When their song is sung (army, navy, air force, you know), they walk up to the front of the congregation and the applause and love is felt is so beautiful.

Both events make me teary-eyed.

11

My father was a veteran. He always taught me to be proud to be an American, and I know the same is true for any of the other Allied countries. We should all be proud of what our countrymen did. If it wasn’t for these brave men and women, who knows what the world would be like today.

Dad was very active in the American Legion. I always got choked up at the annual ceremonies for Memorial Day, and Veterans Day. Seeing all those old soldiers standing proud once again, knowing the horrors they endured to make this world a better place for me, and everyone else. It saddened me to see their ranks dwindle over the years.

When I was a kid, I remember all the flags flying up and down the street on these holidays. Both my parents always stressed the importance of this to me. Lately, the flags are fewer everywhere I go. Memorial Day is no longer a rememberance, it’s the “Official Start of Summer”, just a 3 day weekend. Veteran’s Day is nothing more than a day off. There’s something very wrong with this.

Sadly, my Dad died this year, the day before Memorial Day. Fitting for a veteran. He had a stroke back in February, and by May we all knew the end was near. I had made my peace before that, and all through the wake and and most of the funeral I was ok. Until the end of the funeral, when I sat and watched my Dad’s remaining American Legion comrades line up once again to honor one of their fallen. There were only nine of them left, all suffering the ravages of time, yet there they stood, tall and proud again. Taps was played, a speech read, the flag was presented to my Mom, and I couldn’t contain myself anymore.

I can’t understand people who have no regard for our Allied Veterans. After all, we need only go back a few years to see conflict. Most of us are old enough to be able to appreciate their contributions. Many of these people sacrificed years of their lives for our freedoms. The least we can do is spend a few moments on these holidays. We should not ever forget them, not now, not in our lifetimes.

12

Feynn: Amen!

My father served in the U. S. Navy during WW II. In the Pacific theater for four years.
He only talked about it once, in my entire life.
He was on one of those little boats that bombarded the shore with rockets prior to a landing. That’s all he ever said.

I know it affected him profoundly.
He, and his generation, made sacrifices we can’t even imagine. They deserve all the respect we can give them.
As do all who served, in all the wars, declared or otherwise.

(And yes, I’m a veteran, too (66-70) but it’s not for myself that I say this.)

13

It’s from the National Guard, but appropriate on a lot of levels.

Civilian in Peace, Soldier in War . . . of security and honor, for three centuries I have been the custodian, I am the Guard.

I was with Washington in the dim forests, fought the wily warrior, and watched the dark night bow to the morning. At Concord’s bridge, I fired the fateful shot heard 'round the world.

I bled on Bunker Hill. My footprints marked the snows at Valley Forge. I pulled a muffled oar on the barge that bridged the icy Delaware.

I stood with Washington on the sun-drenched heights of Yorktown. I saw the sword surrendered . . . I am the Guard.

I pulled the trigger that loosed the long rifle’s havoc at New Orleans. These things I know – I was there!

I saw sides of the War between the States – I was there!
The hill at San Juan felt the fury of my charge. The far plains and mountains of the Philippines echoed to my shout . . . On the Mexican border I stood . . . I am the Guard.

The dark forest of the Argonne blazed with my barrage. Chateau Thierry crumbled to my cannonade. Under the arches of victory I marched in legion – I was there! I am the Guard.

I bowed briefly on the grim Corregidor, then saw the light of liberation shine on the faces of my comrades. Through the jungle and on the beaches, I fought the enemy, beat, battered, and broke him. I raised our banner to the serene air on Okinawa – I scrambled over Normandy’s beaches – I was there! . . . I am the Guard.

Across the 38th Parallel I made my stand. I flew MIG Alley – I was there! . . . I am the Guard.
Soldier in war, civilian in peace . . . I am the Guard.

I was at Lucasville when the prison riots worsened. I was the deterrent. I was the insurance to our communities and families that law and order would be protected.

I was the diver with my Hummvee transporting patients to hospitals during the blizzard of 1996 – these things I know – I was there! . . . I am the Guard. I was called to provide safe passage for truckers and their loads during the Teamsters strike. Over 700 of my comrads enabled safe delivery of food and other goods on local highways.
And yes, I was in Atlanta for the Centennial Olympic games protecting both athletes and spectators. My presence served notice to the world that we are prepared to protect and to serve in any capacity that my country, my state, and my communities ask of me. . . I am the Guard.

I am proud. I have served well. I am bound by tradition and honor to uphold my duty as a citizen-soldier.

Whereever a child cries, or a woman weeps in time of disaster, there I stand . . . I am the Guard.

For three centuries a soldier in war, a civilian in peace – of security and honor, I am the custodian, now and forever . . . I am the Guard.

14

It’s terrible that my generation and the next is forgetting. Personally I do not, I have celebrated (if celebrated could be applied to this… perhaps observed would be better) Remembrance Day for awhile. I’ve been to ceremonies with my school and with Guides and my Grandparents. We even went to a ceremony just after Christmas for one of the major fights in Italy I think it was last year. (I can’t recall the exact name of the town) I will always observe this day.

Sassy that was very profound btw

15

Both Veteran’s Day and Memorial Day deserve to be more fittingly honored. When I taught at a Catholic high school, I used to ask my students to just take a minute befoe they went to the mall or the beach to say a prayer for those men and women who served our country, and those who died in its service. I was never so proud of my ability to teach as on those few times when a student told me that they had indeed remembered the reason behind their holiday.

Right now I’m helping to negotiate a contract for employees at a library. One of our proposals was a holiday on Veteran’s Day–not because the employee’s wanted another paid holiday, but because they didn’t feel it was right to be open on that day. They even said that we could trade one of their existing holidays away in order to have Veteran’s Day–a big concession, you never agree to give something up! And this is a pretty young group of employees by and large. So it is an issue they can care about, even if they’re only making a bit over minimum wage.

16

I got a call a few months ago from an old friend. He told me that another old freind had died. Frank was 52 and took his own life. We were together in Viet Nam. I hadn’t seen him since. He had moved to Az. after getting out. I came home to Mi and stayed here. The above quote reminded me of the grave side service. Seeing the old men in their brown hats and the “salute” to one who took his life. Many of those old boys knew the horrors of war and knew that Frank had dealt with his own private battle in his own way. I say he was another KIA. It just took him a little longer to die. I will be remembering him and a few others come the 11th.