This thread is the reason I came on to SD tonight. Every year I look for it. Once again, thanks Coldie.
So many vets I have known gone…the CBC reports that only 10 Great War veterans are believed to survive in Canada; the last Canadian veteran to serve in the Siberian Expedition died a few days ago at age 106.
The visit I made in June to the battlefields and cemeteries in France and Belgium was profoundly moving. The three unknown Canadians found near Passchendaele were buried with full military honours, with about 100 Canadian military and government officials in attendance, but about 300 Belgian civilians (as well as the local Mayor, dignitaries, and veterans, of course) of all ages, young and old, came out and filled the graveyard to pay their respects. It brought tears to my eyes to know that, although we had no way to identify those three young men, the local town thought enough of them to treat them like family.
A Canadian soldier, known unto God, is carried to his final resting place, after 85 years.
The poppies were in full bloom everywhere by the roadsides; these were in France, about a mile from the Somme battlefield of Beaumont-Hamel.
At St. Julian in Belgium, the stark monument to the Canadians can be seen for miles.
I was unprepared for the impressive scale of Vimy Ridge Monument, with the central female figure of Canada mourning her dead, carved from a single 30-tonne block of stone. Another view. Rear of the Monument, from a distance.
Over 11,000 names are engraved on the Vimy monument; each one a Canadian soldier killed in France who has no known grave.
I stumbled over this in my local paper. A local man wrote a sequel to the famous poem.
In Flanders Fields, again they grow
Between the crosses row on row
The brilliant hue of poppies red,
Mark new-filled graves of brave men, dead!
The larks still bravely singing, fly,
'Tho death rides master of the sky,
And in the fading evening light,
Stand crosses new, unweathered, white!
And added are the thousands more,
The crosses on some distant shore;
In jungles dense, in northern lands,
On mountain heights, on desert sand
Each points its finger to the sky,
Accusing men, both you and I;
Accusing that we soon forgot
The freedoms they so dearly bought!
What will ye then,
Ye foolish men,
Forget so soon the lesson taught?
Shall tears and sorrow go for naught?
Nay, gird thy loin for greater work,
That greater task no man may shirk;
Pick up the torch and dedicate—
Thy will to peace not born in hate!
-Carl Lundgren
margin, I don’t usually go for sequels to the classics, but that poem was fine. I began to read it, and totally unexpectedly I had tears running down my cheeks. If you know the author, or have ANY way of passing a message on to him, let Mr. Lundgren know he is a true artist.
I’m sorry to say that I believe Mr. Lundgren has passed away. I believe that he too was a veteran.
I’ve got a living uncle who’s a veteran and for me he’s the perfect example of the breed. In his mid seventies now, he must walk with a walker. Most of the time, he’s so stubborn he won’t use his wheelchair. Only a few things will get him into the contraption. (When I signed up, he got tears in his eyes he was so proud. )In the past year, he’s suffered from a diabetic coma, pancreatic cancer, and a back injury. Nevertheless, his willpower is so much a part of his character that his doctor was once able to identify him from a story his wife told one day upon arriving home:
Doctor’s wife: “I saw a man shovelling snow today.”
Doctor: “So what?”
Doctor’s wife: “From a wheelchair?”
Doctor: “I know exactly who that is.”
My uncle. Only time he uses the wheelchair is when there’s snow to shovel or a garden to tend.
I just don’t think that’s unusual for the people of his generation. I just don’t. I once sat on a bus next to an older gentlemen, and in the course of conversation discovered he had been on Omaha Beach.
I’m watching the news, and there’s a guy who modestly brushed aside talk of being part of the Greatest Generation. Asked if he felt appreciated, he responded, “I very much appreciate that I had the opportunity to have served my country.” I don’t think that’s a simple misunderstanding. I’ve seen that kind of humility in my own veteran relatives. It’s just amazing to me that this guy was grateful for that opportunity. Unbelieveable.
The nice thing is they’re pre-empting the regular TV shows to show to memorial service. About damned time, too.
Lest we forget, my friends.
My goodness, I can’t believe it’s been four years since I wrote the OP to this thread. So much has happened since then, both on these boards and in my life. I’m married now, and my wife and I will soon be starting our life together, here in Amsterdam. She’s kinda like a liberator too, on a more personal level. I mean, she’s American, and she’s coming over to make me happy, right? 
I sent my wife the link to an Internet broadcast of the commemoration tonight, and we watched it together on our respective computers. Separated by an ocean, joined by a historical bond.
Since it’s past midnight here, it means the fifth of May has come around once again. I wish everybody a happy Liberation Day, from wherever you hail. Peace!
Coldfire, I’ll be reading your letter to my classes tomorrow. It seems a fitting conclusion to a study of Anne Frank. Thank you.
And thanks also to my Dad, 84 years old, who flew thirty-five missions over Germany between 1942 and 1945.
Thanks for opening this thread again Coldfire. I think it is very important to pause and remember the sacrifices made so that we can live in freedom. Memories tend to fade over time so we need to be reminded every so often.
Also, belated congratulations on your marriage.
Coldfire
I wil tell my dad.
My brother, and my sisters and I are taking him to the WWII memorial, this summer. And we will stop at the Korean War Memorial, and The Vietnam War Memorial, as well.
He served in combat theaters in all three.
Truely a generation of heroes.
Tris
We will not, and the readers of the Kingsport Times-News will be finding out about it soon enough; I’m not sure it’ll make the May 5 edition, but it might make the May 6 or 7. I’d meant to send it in earlier, as I’d written it a month or so ago when pondering my next Letter to the Editor, but … well, I remembered yesterday. I’ll link y’all when it comes out (I hope they have not edited it).
Thank you Coldfire. Indeed; Lest we forget…
[Happy Liberation Day to you, too]
Thanks again Coldy for the thread. It’s funny, since I live in Southern California, that I think of Cinco de Mayo as Liberation Day.
My father and his Academy roommate both served for the duration. Though my father has passed it’s always this time of year that I remember to pass a note along to his “first wife”, slang for an Annapolis roommate, and thank him for his friendship to my father and his life-long duty.
It astounds me to think of the degree of duty that so many people at that time could communally feel. Duty is a spark of God in all of us. I’m not much of a religious man, but there is a divinity that shapes our ends if we will but let it.
Thanks again, Coldy, for this thread. I re-posted my photos mentioned in my posting of last November, so the links work again.
Just five days ago, one of our old Master Gunners died. Peter joined the Canadian Army here at Fort Rodd Hill, in 1937. He and his good friend Jack volunteered for overseas service in 1939, but because the guns here had to be manned (and they were needed to train new recruits), Peter and Jack didn’t get send to Britain until May of 1941.
Their troopship, the SS Nerissa, was sunk by a U-boat in the Atlantic, about 100 miles off Ireland. Peter and Jack wound up, remarkably, in the same half-swamped lifeboat. For 14 hours they shivered, half-in, half-out of the icy water. They were lucky; they were picked up by a British destroyer. Both spent many weeks in hospital (and Jack came close to losing a leg), but survived.
Both went on to serve in action, Peter in Sicily and Italy with the Royal Canadian Artillery, while Jack became an officer, joined a tank regiment, and fought through Normandy, Holland and into Germany. Jack was decorated for pulling his wounded crew out of one of his wrecked tanks (he had four Shermans destroyed under him in total), but lost a good chunk of his right calf muscle on the white-hot metal in doing so.
Both returned to Canada; both stayed in the military: Jack became an Inspector of Ordnance (an extremely highly qualified ammunition inspector); Peter became a Warrant Officer Class One, Master Gunner, and served in action once again, this time in Korea. There is no higher calling for an artilleryman than to become “Master Gunner.” There are only a handful at any one time in the Canadian Army, and the rank denotes someone of long service and much wisdom, who knows his artillery and ammunition (and his men) inside-out and backwards. Master Gunner is “only” a senior NCO, but it is a very foolish Officer indeed who doesn’t rely implicitly on his Master Gunner in all matters artillery.
Both Jack and Peter left the military in the mid-1960s, after 30 years distinguished service. Their contribution to Canada’s heritage wasn’t over yet, though. The old Fort where they had both joined up as teenagers was now a National Historic Site. Both Jack and Peter joined Parks Canada; they had come full circle back to where they began their lifelong friendship. Peter retired in 1982 as the Finance Officer here, two years after I had my first summer job at the Fort. He was a kind, polite, quiet man who took great pains that all the “kids” got paid properly, sorted out administrative problems, and generally was a granddad to us all. He will be missed.
Rodd Hill You might find this interesting. Thank you.
Thanks, gum, that is interesting. I went to school in one of the small towns mentioned in the article (Maple Ridge) in the 1970s. About a quarter of the students in my school were of Dutch descent; my class was full of “Van Der so-and-so”! Most were families who had emigrated to Canada following WW2. Many of their parents had harrowing stories to tell about the Occupation.
I was waiting for this thread to re-emerge, as I never tire of reading it.
I was poking around the (relatively) new Australian War Memorial at Hyde Park Corner earlier this week, and pondering the general stupidity of war. Rather than list the names of the fallen, the memorial lists the names of the battlefields superimposed over the names of the towns from which the soldiers came, a recognition that their sacrifices also affected the communities in which they lived.
Coldfire, thank you for writing this 4(!) years ago. Even though so much seems to have changed in those years, we still need to remember. I sent your piece to a co-worker who has lost a son in Iraq. She really loved what you had written. I also included this message:
“This piece is really wonderful. And it reminded me that my grandmother’s birthday was May 5. By May 5, 1945, my family had been able to make it to Switzerland after being bombed out of almost every German city they stayed in (seriously, it seemed that throughout 1944 and 1945 my family had targets painted on their backs). May 5 was a day of celebration yet they didn’t know they had lost a half dozen family members back in Hungary from Russian atrocities. If it wasn’t for my grandmother, who I lost last year, I probably would have ended up being ‘Commie Annie’ in reality. I know I rant against American policies but, I will never forget that I owe America my life.”
Again, thank you.
I’ve read this thread every year since it was posted, and I should have added my thanks to Coldfire long before today. That generation deserves to be remembered.
We’re just not the same today. It’s amazing what people went through, without complaint, without even thinking that they were doing anything extraordinary. A great uncle was a flight engineer on bombers in Europe. Like many, he doesn’t like to talk about his experiences. But I recently came across a website about his unit. It describes missions and, for some of these, lists the planes and crews.
Here’s one that includes him: http://www.b24.net/missions/LL031844.htm
The target was an aircraft factory.
28 planes, each with 10 or 11 guys. Four planes aborted the mission because of mechanical difficulties. Of the 24 remaining, only 9 came back, all damaged by fighters or flak.
AmericanMaid, my maternal grandmother’s birthday was May 5, too! She was born in 1908, and died in 1985.
Thanks for all the responses, guys. And thanks to all of you who decided to share it with friends, students, people in your community. Not because it’s my message - but because this is a message that should be heard by all.
I just found out two days ago that a friend of mine, who is 50 and has been in the Guard for 31 years, has been activated for a year. He is of rather high NCO rank, in logistics and supply. He has a business, a house, a son. Dave has had short activations before, no more than a few weeks at a time. But he is perfectly willing to put his life on hold to do this thing.
We hadn’t seen or socialized in quite a long time, but I wrote him a note on Monday and Tuesday he gave me a call. We caught up, and I told him if there is anything I can do while he is gone, to help, to let me know. I’ll write(and send goodies!) while he is overseas.
Patriotism and honor are not dead, as long as there are guys like Dave willing to serve.
I also think I’ll copy this thread, and send it to him later. I always look for it in May, and in November.